In Which Ramona Maintains a Positive Vocabulary in a Negative Situation and Griffin Lends a Helping Hand.

The kids have been amazing with helping out this week while I have been under the weather. Sam and Isaac were upstairs cleaning up Legos while I laid down to take a nap with Ramona. Because Hailey was at work, and Zeke was stinky, Griffin realized he was indeed going to have to change a poopy diaper.

Ever so quietly at first I was pulled from my slumber.

"Mom?" I heard.

Then again, a little louder than before.

"Mom? I hate to wake you but there is poop everywhere and I need your help."

Napping with Ramona is like sleeping in a spider's web. To untangle yourself without waking her is virtually possible.

Ramona followed me to the living room to answer Griffin's plea. In no time at all we had the bulk of the emergency taken care of and were returning to the bedroom to finish our nap.

Cuddled up behind me with her pudgy fingers playing with my hair she commented "That was NOT awesome. That was NOT beautiful."

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A Good Mommy

Scenario:

I'm feeding Zeke in the rocking chair in the bedroom. Ramona rolls up with her empty doll stroller.

Conversation:

Ramona: We're two mommies.

Me: Are you a mommy too?

Ramona: Yes

Me: Where is your baby?

Ramona (looking into her empty stroller): I don't know. I better go find her.

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I Am Progressive #OnlyWhenIWannaBe.

I can't sleep. #SometimesThatHappens.

Between nursing a 5 month old and responding to the 2 year old's "momma? MOMMA!" through the night, I'm not even sure what time it is. Saturday, Sunday? #DaylightSavingsTime.  

I reach for my phone. My constant data retriever. #MyLoyalFriend.

I check Facebook. Not much new between midnight and now. (2am-3am?) #DidIChangeMyClock.

What boring friends I have. #TheLifeOfTheParty #NOT.

I stock my Tiny Tower. I finish a few gold crown levels on Siege Hero. I check Twitter, there's always news there.

I open my YouVersion Bible app to do a little study prompted by a tweet that looks intriguing. @doorposts

Still not working right. Can't seem to access my favorite translation: NIV84. #Delete.# Reinstall.

It's gone. NIV84 has disappeared. #Ermahgerd.

Back to Twitter to learn the version has been made unavailable by Biblica and Zondervan. @Youversion #NIV84.  #TheresAlwaysTheNewNIV.

Whoa. Back up. What?

You can't just change stuff. #MyRules.

I just got used to calling the NIV84 the NIV84.  They tried to pull the wool over my eyes and sneak in their new NIV translation by using the name NIV and changing the old version's name to NIV84. But I'm on to them.  I know.  See how I think?  #ItsPureTorture.

Just like how the Newsboys still call themselves the Newsboys even though there's only one guy left and they don't sound anything like they used to. I guess it was @Peter Furler all along for me. Even VanHalen/Hagar had the decency to change their name. #ButItMattersToMe.

I digress.

I suppose the switch from KJV to NIV was like this for some people way back then. I also, for the record, had a hard time with the new Hymnal when it came out in the early 90's. #LutheranLifer.

It was introduced when I had two very small children and couldn't wrangle them both and the hymnal to follow along for months. #NotAnOctopus.

I was the one still singing the old responses. #OneInEveryCrowd.

Again, digression. #OnARoll.

The Bible doesn't have to be so conversational does it? Isn't there some comfort in the words themselves?  What about memorization? #StuckInMyWays.

At the rate these new translations are flying about, I'm afraid that pretty soon the whole Bible will just be a paraphrase and Jesus will be all emo for going postal in the temple. #IsNothingSacred.

The B-I-B-L-E-N-I-V-8-4 Yes, that's the book for me. I stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E-N-I-V-8-4. #MaybeImJustTired.

If you want me today (tomorrow?) I'll be the one rocking in the corner clutching my guns, ammo, hardcover NIV84, along with my old Newsboys CD's.

#Peace out. 

Loaded Question

A few weeks after Ramona was born Matt and I decided to take the younger set to a gun show. Isaac was very excited while the other boys?   Not so much.

We are a family infatuated with weapons of all kinds but the idea of an afternoon of "don't touch", "slow down", "hands to yourselves" might have had an influence on their indifference.  But Isaac?  He was absolutely giddy!  He even dressed for the occasion:  Full mismatched camo, vest included.

We perused aisle after aisle of displays when, out of the blue, Isaac tugged on my sleeve and asked...

"When does the gun show start?"

Do Hard Things.

On the way to the soccer tournament this morning Hayden asked me, "What if I asked to play goalie today?".

"What?!?!?! No way!" was the first thing that escaped my mouth thinking he was kidding.

I made it through my entire educational career with only one formal speech under my belt.  I don't know how I weaseled out of them.  I think I feigned sickness and took the "F" once, probably didn't take classes that required them... 

That's pretty much how Hayden has avoided the goalie position for the last 13 years.

"Well, it all depends on who we play... it's my last day, and if we're really far ahead... Maybe I'll give it a shot."

He played his usual defensive position for all but the last 10 minutes of the game... they were down 3-0. 

From the sidelines I saw him donning the long sleeved green and black striped goalie shirt.  I fumbled for my video camera.  Ramona started crying.  I opted to watch instead of film.

So, with Ramona bawling on my hip and me pacing the sidelines the game commenced with him in the goal.

It wasn't pretty... In fact, their first drive on goal ended in Hayden picking up the ball out of the box and being called for handling.  Then shortly after, they scored on him.  He made a valiant dive to try to block it though.  The ball never made it in his vicinity again.

He was smiling when it was over.  He had given it a shot and had failed.  Twice. 

But he was still smiling.

I was proud. And inspired.

A Special Bond

While watching the 3 banded armadillo yesterday at the zoo, a mom stood by and listened as her two young sons, I'd guess ages 2 & 3, engaged in typical bathroom humor conversation.

As if she suddenly realized she wasn't alone, she looked my way, apologized and said "I'm sorry, I've got two boys... I don't even notice it sometimes."

"It's okay" I reassured her "I've got 4."

We shared a knowing smile and went our separate ways.

Ahhhhh......

Bittersweet

If I had to sum up my emotions for the day... I was cheering and feeling a little sad all at the same time.  

Cutting the Crap

Honesty.  With yourself.  With others.


That's my definition of personal responsibility.


A couple of years ago while talking with a friend about weight loss, we came to the conclusion that, in all honesty, we were overweight because we ate more calories than we burned. 


That's it.  Cut the crap.


Not because our thyroids were out of whack, not because we had too much to do and not enough time to exercise or cook healthy foods, not because... blah blah blah.


The excuses can be endless and overwhelming.  And in the end, that's all they are... excuses.


I've since taken that approach  to just about every issue I've encountered.  Sometimes with the help of that close circle of friends that reminds me to cut the crap and sometimes I can pare it away myself.


It's funny how we can try to excuse our way out of our own selfishness, laziness, greed or whatever happens to be your weakness.  Your real weakness, when you cut away the crap, is hard to hear. 


My kids, for example, don't always do a good job at the task they've been assigned.  Is it because they're bad kids? No, they're great kids.  But they are kids and kids will only do what is inspected not what is expected.  If I'm being too lazy (or selfish) to drop what I'm doing to inspect the job, I can almost always find myself disappointed with the results.


The kids, on the other hand, cannot use that as their excuse.  They all know how to correctly accomplish the task at hand.  Personal responsibility dictates that they cut the crap and fully do what is expected of them.  Period. 


In society today not many people can cut the crap and put the blame on their crumby circumstances on themselves.  


I was listening to the radio the other day and I heard Mark Gungor's Better Marriage Minute.  I can't find the exact quote but it went something like this:

100% of divorces happen because one or both spouses become selfish.

Talk about cutting the crap.  

I came across a book that was title something like Get Off Your Butt and Parent.  Needless to say, I didn't need to read it... I knew all to well what my problem was.

It's rather easy (if you're willing) to chisel away the excuses to get to the real issues when you're studying the 10 commandments (again?) with your children.  Go ahead, dust off your Catechism.  Give it a whirl.  We've clouded even the only 10 commands God has given us to obey with excuses.

Yikes!  I could list something under every commandment that I deal with regularly.  Murder?  Not me!  But always being patient, kind, and forgiving from our hearts towards everyone?   Once again, not me.  

Recently I've begun praying for awareness of my sins.  Yikes again!  Without awareness, how can I ever change?  If I can't cut the crap, see my sin for what it is, how can I truly repent?  I thank God every day for His grace. 

Although, I don't think all crap is sinful.   My personal convictions may not be yours.  BUT if you are lying to yourself... allowing yourself to be a victim of your circumstances... you may be missing out on a lot of opportunities.  Opportunities you never thought were available to you because of your thinking.


A single word can make a difference in your whole outlook.  Take, for instance, Want and Need.  If you can differentiate between the two your whole life could change.

scrape   scrape   scrape

The sound of my soapbox coming to the front.  There are only two things that I'm outspokenly passionate about in life, and this is one of them.

Moms That Say They Need To Work. 

Before you load your catapult with rotten tomatoes, hear me out.  


One little word could put you in control of your situation and give you peace or hope or whatever it is you think you might be missing.  One little word could change the way you think.


Moms, do you really need to work outside the home?   If you want to, that's your choice, just quit telling everyone (and yourself) that you have to work to make ends meet.


In all honesty, if you cut the crap, making ends meet can be defined as maintaining the standard of living that you are accustomed to. 


Are you standards too high?  If you really thought things through...

Is cable a necessity?  Do you really need 2 vehicles?  Is there a bus route close by?  Do you eat out more than in?  Do you need a cell phone?  Is your cell phone plan the cheapest out there?  Do you have internet on your phone and at home?

These are only a few (and the easiest) categories to  simplify.  I've got a ton of them up my sleeve. 


When it comes right down to the wire... Are you sacrificing your children's need for direct parental involvement to your own selfishness?


Ouch.  I know right?

If the answer indubitably is NO then you can rest assured that your choices are working for your family.  Kudos to you... most people can't successfully juggle it all and come out unscathed.

If NO doesn't come so easy... or if you can whisper yes... redefine your situation.  Assess your wants versus your needs.  You can make a change, you do not need to be a victim.  Take a stand, do it for your family, you'll never regret it.


If you're stuck, I'd like to help.


Let's talk.

There Is No One Else...

 I... take you, 

 

to be my husband,

 to have and to hold from this day forward,

 for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer,

 

in sickness and in health, 

  

to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part. 

 

 

There is no one else I could imagine spending every day of the last 21 years with.

Happy Anniversary 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

If you’re inspired to do the same,

leave a link to your ‘moment’ over at SouleMama for all to find and see.

Merry Christmas!

We interrupt this long-drawn out birth story to celebrate the birth of The One who came down from Heaven to save us.  Thank you Jesus... and Happy Birthday!

In a good year, I have difficulty decorating for Christmas.  It's not that I don't love Christmas, it's just that I don't always have space for... "Christmas".  This year with Ramona and all of Ramona's stuff added to the household (and me, not having the where-with-all to get it organized on time) it seems even tighter.  The acquisition of this idea has put an end to that problem... introducing the half-tree!  For the last few years I have been using this technique to save space (and my sanity).  An artificial tree with only half the branches put on, slid it up tight to the wall (or bookshelf).  We only brought up on box of "Christmas" too.  As you can see, the ornaments are sparse but our hearts are full.

I usually delight in composing my annual Christmas letter, picking a color scheme, and working on the layout.  This year was no different...  I happen to LOVE the black and white/simple paragraph style.  E-mail me if you would like the template... As you can see, the format is sparse, but our hearts are full.

Click to enlarge.

Merry Christmas to all! and to all... a good night!

Losing Focus

That was a disappointment.  This dose of Nubain wasn't working AT. ALL.

I was losing focus pretty quickly.  I felt like a flailing baby, alone... falling... out of control.  Matt could not help, Hailey could not help (really anyway, what could they do? How could they know what I needed if I couldn't tell them?) I turned to the nurse for support and asked her what to do next because I had used up all my tricks.

She sweetly suggested an epidural.

With modern monitors and medication do nurses even know how to take care of laboring women anymore?  Or are they just there to interpret the information the machine spits out and administer the medication that takes care of the pain so you don't have to?  Is that why they insisted I remain in bed... to be monitored?  Would this nurse have had any idea how to help and support me through a tough labor had it not been near the end?  Have they lost the art because no one requires it of them anymore?  It never dawned on my that I should have added "a intuitive/caring nurse" to the list of prayers I had been reciting for the last few weeks.  I know having more support wouldn't have changed the outcome, it's pretty black and white:  All pregnant women eventually end up delivering.  A healthy baby and mom are the main objectives but the avenues taken to get to that end... do they matter?  I still think so.  I believe I am in the minority.

UGH!

"Let's just check you and see where you're at."

"5"

Because I know how my body labors, I knew this was it....  Soon I'd have a baby!

I voiced "It can't be long now"  because I knew...

I knew it darn-it! 

This is why the drugs weren't working... This was transition for me...  I knew it...

Replaying each of my experiences with this phase I always dubbed as my "don't remember time",  I knew it was almost time for "call the doctor", "set the stage" and "BAM! 7-8-9-10 -Baby".


I will never forget the look on the nurse's face as she replied to my statement of "It can't be long now".

The words, not so much, but the look... annoyance, irritation, pretentiousness...

"Well, I don't know about that."

BOOM!

Gone was my focus.  Every thing I knew, I didn't know anymore.  I lost all confidence and felt completely overwhelmed... I cried.  She had somehow, with that one look, undone all I had in me...

Defeated, I gave in... I caved... I went against all I knew about myself and my stamina.  I requested an epidural.

She checked me again... 8.  Too late for an epidural.

I wish I could report that with that news I mustered my fortitude and pressed on.  But I didn't.  I went on because I had no choice. 

I told her I was going to turn over and push.  She checked me again... 10. 

 I knew it darn-it!

I opened my eyes expecting to see the doctor and more nurses or at least the spotlights on.  Nothing.  No one.

I remember asking "Where is everybody?"  I don't know if anyone answered.

Next time I opened my eyes the stage was set...  the doctor appeared... I was pretzel-ed and pushing.  No one was talking (or cheering) I had no idea if I was making any progress.  I remember asking how I was doing and calling for some encouragement...

If there is a next time... I'm bringing the pep-band.

Climbing the Mountain

Nubain can only be given once every two hours.  I had a half an hour to go.

The feeling of being split in two was hitting me like a jack-hammer again but as the nurse checked me and said I was at 4ish I began to focus on my breathing and what has gotten me through most of my other labors.

It's a little trick I learned before Griffin was born and has always been useful to me.

Picture, if you will, a contraction as a line on a graph.  As the line rises the pain increases, and each contraction is like a mountain.  While in the valley, you are pain free.  On the way up the mountain the pain increases, but is usually tolerable... up to a point... the peak.  Only as you reach the summit does the contraction feel all consuming.  The second you start the descent, the torturous feeling gives way to cramping, the cramping lessens to aching and then, when you reach the valley, you can once again relax.

The trick is to convince yourself that, during this whole "mountaineering" process, only the few seconds at the pinnacle hurt.  The rest can be labeled "increasingly uncomfortable" or "steadily decreasing on the pain scale".  So actually, even when your contractions are lasting 1.5 minutes and they are 3 minutes apart, only a fraction of that is excruciating, the rest is a piece of cake!

On the fetal monitoring machine there is also a number associated with where on the mountain you are currently.  Matt's job has always been to watch that number and tell me the instant it decreases.  I don't think he understood why that was important to me.  Either I never explained it to him, or he wasn't listening when I gave that particular instruction, (or maybe he didn't care one iota about me and was actually in cahoots with that evil nurse)  because he was saying things like

"Well, that was a biggie" and

"whoa, it keeps going up"

or holding out on telling me when the number went down because he was waiting to see if it would go back up,

instead of just saying "it's going down"  which was all I wanted to hear.

There was no time to explain it now.  If I could just make it to 9:30 pm, I could have another shot of Nubain and all would be well with the world.

As I watched the hands on the clock move in slow motion, I, in my most convincing tone, requested, ever so sweetly, that the nurse have the drugs ready to administer immediately as the second hand reached the appropriate location.  I saw her go through the motions, but I don't think she ever went through with it.  (and I think I saw her head spin around)

I waited for that euphoric sensation, the giggling... the relief never came...

Pain Management

... so yeah, I cried...

Every time (but the first time because I had no idea what was going to happen) the rupturing of the membranes caused me to rethink the whole idea of having a baby.  No matter how much I had hoped it would happen or no matter how much I had begged the doctor to "induce me today, I've cleared my calendar... I promise... I'll make it quick"

I've cried and I've told everyone I changed my mind and I'm going home.  Being pregnant isn't that bad... and this time was no exception.

By now things were quite intense and I was pretty sure that someone was methodically sawing me in half with a dull butcher knife while systematically trying to open a hydraulically powered automatic beach umbrella in my hooha.  Add to that the fact that I was only at 3ish cm, strapped to the bed by the automatic blood pressure cuff, the IV lines, the fetal monitors and the paralysis of back labor,  I'm not surprised that I, for the first time ever, considered an epidural for pain management.  The new shift nurse asked me if I wanted anything.  I told her no but to come back in 20 minutes for my final answer.

An hour later when she appeared I had lost all respect for her, and everyone else for that matter,  and asked for Nubain.  I had to clear it with Hailey first as she was all up in my face and reminding me that I had done it before without any medication... I saw her head spin around at that moment, I just know it.

(Or maybe it was mine)

Then, I'm pretty sure I told her to shove it because she backed off and the nurse administered the medication.

Immediately, I started to giggle. 

For about an hour I felt great, dreamily saying things like "Ooooooo...That one hurted" or "Heeeeyyyyy you guys... "  or so they tell me.





Then, it wore off...

Ramona Caroline is Here

3 Weeks already?  Oh my, how the time has flown.

We welcomed Ramona Caroline into the world Tuesday, October 5, 2010.  She was 8 pounds 5 ounces and 21 inches long.  Born at 22:22 with much pain and agony.

Seriously, I think this was the most painful of all my births... it could have had to do with the fact that I was tired and worn out from labor... or it could have had to do with the fact that because I was tired and worn out and had lost my focus, I demanded pain medication.  It wore off right about the time I hit transition.  My biggest fear realized... Really, that's why I opted out of pain medication for all my other deliveries.  Now I know. 

It all started on Monday night with a dose of Cervidil to ripen my cervix.  With my 38 week pregnant belly measuring 43 weeks gestation, I settled in for the night with my Ambien while Matt and Hailey tried to get comfortable on the crappy hospital furniture sans medication.  8 am Tuesday morning brought no results so the Pitocin was started.

I've been induced for 4 out of the 6 times I've delivered babies and even the ones whose labor started naturally a definite pattern has been detected.  It takes FOR.EV.ER. to get things started.  I could walk around for a few weeks dilated to 3 and then even after labor starts things are very slow moving until about 6 cm.  Then BAM! 7-8-9-10-BABY in less than an hour.  I know this about myself.  I told the nurses who were with me all day that this was my normal pattern, so I wasn't too worried at noon when I was only dilated about 1 cm, the same as I was the week before at the doctor's office.  I was having contractions and they were regular but they were not being overly productive.

We Skyped with the boys who were waiting at home, we watched a marathon of Billy the Exterminator on TV, and Matt and Hailey ate breakfast, lunch and dinner before things started to look promising.  The contractions were wrapping around into my back... oh, the wonderful back labor that I am so familiar with.

For some reason they would not allow me to roam.  Just getting them to allow me to be upright in a chair was a fight.  By 4pm  I was adamant that they let me get up and walk around.  They agreed as long as I promised to come back every 15 minutes to be monitored... The first 10 minutes I was out and about I had 7 contractions.  WaHooo!

My 2nd attempt didn't get me past the nurses station when my water started to break.  Funny way to word that I know... but it took about an hour for me to gush out all the fluid that was hanging out in there!  I soaked through towel after towel, chucks pad after chuck pad...  2 changes of bed sheets and a few mop ups of the floor before it slowed down enough to consider it done.  "Copious amounts" one nurse commented.  I had set some kind of record in her mind and 33 years experience in Labor and Delivery. 

Without all that extra pressure my uterus relaxed a bit and contractions slowed.  I knew this was where the rubber meets the road, the real fun stuff was going to happen... and like every other time I had gotten to this point... I started to cry...

To be continued

Married and Pregnant

I fished my wedding ring out of the drawer yesterday.  I parked it there a couple of months ago thinking it the smart thing to do in case my fingers started to swell.

Last week I was still under the weight from my first appointment so I decided it was safe to put back on.  It feels good to be married and pregnant again.

I've been gaining and losing the same 5 pounds since I first visited the doctor in February...  Mainly due to my pre-pregancy size being a bit more on the - ahem - solid side. My metabolism LOVES being pregnant, I have never gained more than 16 pounds with any of my pregnancies (even when I wasn't as solid as I am now) and as long as I don't have ketones in my urine, my doctor is fine with it.

ANYWAY, wouldn't ya know that over this past week, I gained 3 pounds. 

Oh well, the rest of the visit went well.

My blood pressure was down a bit from last week and my glucose levels, which had been high over the weekend, are now under control and there was no mention of insulin.  My NST went well once the baby woke up and "he" seems to have moved to a head down position!

Extra bonus... I had my complimentary massage this afternoon.  

We're still plugging along one week at a time and I am fine with it. 

Today anyway, we'll see what tomorrow brings...

Here's Baby 6 at 33 weeks/1day. 

Weighing in at 6 pounds, 6 ounces "he" has been very consistent with weight gain since my very first appointment... always 3 weeks ahead of schedule.

Throughout my pregnancy my blood pressure has been managed with medication and my glucose levels have been steady (also with the help of medication and a careful watch of my carbs).

At today's appointment we added some new words to my previous status as a advanced geriatric, grand multi-para,  gestational diabetic, pre-hypertensive  patient.  Packing on the terms as well as the pounds it seems.

This week's ultrasound revealed a transverse baby and a low lying placenta, while the blood pressure monitor displayed numbers creeping higher than the week before.  My glucose register remains consistently "good" but not ideal. 

Today we talked about taking it week by week and probably an early baby with possible C-section.  I guess it's time to get out the bassinet and wash up some baby clothes!

On the up side, I have no swelling and "very nice ankles", the nurse commented! (I've decided I love her.)

All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

On Farmer Sam's daily rounds of the neighborhood's gardens he found a mouse in one of their bird feeders. (And probably weeds that needed to be picked, vegetables that needed harvesting and fences that needed to be mended.)

Wish Me Well...

I'm taking off in the bus today!  Me, the kids and 2 of their friends... Matt has to work but he'll be joining us on Friday.

The big kids and I had a lesson of the inner workings of the electrical system of the bus, I took meticulous notes and then subsequently lost them.  It's okay though, because, since then, most of the things changed.

The main inverter blew and Matt replaced it with a smaller one we had laying around.  (That always makes me chuckle... the things we have as "extra" that most people don't even have one of!)

I laid awake last night not being able to remember... When the generator is powering the bus, which plug goes where?  When I'm driving, do I leave the main inverter switch on?  This is important because we are camping in a field with no power, a fridge full of food, and a pregnant woman who's going to need a fan.  The forecast is for high to mid 80's, thunderstorms and high humidity for most of the 5 day event.  I got my answers this morning before Matt left for work.

Ahhhhh.  Lifest. Again.

Once I get there and get settled, all will be well.

In other news, the pregnancy is going... well?  I'm tired, but not sick anymore, which is HUGE.  The baby is growing ... well?  According to my latest ultrasound Baby B is HUGE. (Doctor's exact wording)  I'm slow moving and sleep a lot... quite like a sloth.  I'm pretty sure I failed my glucose test yesterday because when I got home from the grocery store there was a message on my machine to call the office this morning. 


Wish me well!