enough is enough.

my name is h.mac and i am a junk-a-holic hoarder.

i am tired of living from treat to treat.

i am tired of my hind end giving me whip lash as i run up the stairs 54 times in a day.

i am tired of my thyroid being enlarged.

i am tired of being tired.

and no more sweet tooth fairy cupcakes for me. NO MORE. NO MORE. NO MORE.

i lost the baby weight and then the cupcakes got me and the candy, sugar cookies, and on and on. candy. me, really?!

i found myself making a cake yesterday and knew i was in trouble. in healthier days i was always sure that you were a real carbaholic if you were desperate enough to make a box cake for enjoyment. (why not go for brownies or ice cream if you're going crazy. a fluffy, need two pieces box cake?) my philosophy has always been to pour hours into making a dessert. this proves wise on many fronts. most especially not having dessert be an easy thing to get to. also, scott and i usually practice saving our treat for date night and we share. we made our agreement yesterday that we would breath new life into this and also, a sunday treat that would take a while to make and be taken to some kind of family gathering where there would be no leftovers.

10 pounds later with baby 4 it isn't melting off like it used to. which leads me to......

emily and i married cousins. they recently moved here from australia. we became fast friends and found we both suffer an immense love of food which has us traipsing across the valley on date nights (with our husbands tagging along) talking, oohhing and ahhhing over food. i don't think there has been a date night without 200 fat grams consumed.

my mother raised us with awesome food habits that were very balanced. we never had abounding junk around the house. never had processed foods or sweets casually tempting us. it was one of the best gifts she gave us. she taught us to appreciate food in moderate and healthy amounts. my gluttony is a disgrace to the wise ways she schooled us in.

so emily did this wonderful post today that had me at costco by nights end wanting to start over fresh. i want to feel better. i don't care so much about the exercising part as much as the feeling better. exercise and i do not get along. i would rather run into a brick wall repeatedly. so. again, go here to read her inspiring post about how americans are carb chasers and her thorough research about how to be better. she gave me lots of costco tip offs on products like the aguave nectar, quinoa, wheat sandwich rounds, frozen pitted cherries and on and on. i found salmon burgers, almond butter (only roasted ground almonds), and other delightful things to get me started on feeling better and snapping less.

hopefully my slightly older post partum body will return to its normal weight and forgive me for my shameful ways. i take pretty seriously being a good steward over my physical body. it's a privilege.

that or i may need to purchase some super glue to get all the rolls to meld into one. (that may or may not be a real threat i am giving myself with swimsuit season upon us)

due punishment

the first day of summer arrived and i was screaming triumph in any one's ear who would listen. 9:30 and we found ourselves dressed, jobs done, TV never turned on, teeth brushed, breakfast cleaned up. yes, a mother's summer triumph indeed. as i was finishing getting ready ella loomed in the doorway. rowan was perched at the doorway with toys abounding and pillows to catch his cranium when the sitting up trick got old. with the older kids home she hadn't had her proper fill of mauling him. feeling jipped she decided to engage me in a compelling conversation.

ella: mom, if you do not let me hold rowan this instant i will whip you with this belt. (she was holding a very fashionable purple leather belt ready for action)

mom: ella, we do not whip people. i will let you hold row when i am done with my hair and i can help you.

ella: okay mom, i will give you two choices. if you do not let me hold rowan right this instant your choices are i will whip you or i will whip rowan. which is your choice?

mom: ella, whipping is not a choice. firstly (her favorite invented word i have come to love), i am bigger than you. heavenly father made it so the person giving choices has to be larger than the small person. okay.

ella: mom, that is not right. i give the choices at this house. i am not small, i am a big woman. who is getting whipped here.

mom: ella, you will not whip me or rowan. these are not choices children give their parents. i give the choices.

ella: mom i want to hold him right now on the toilet, let me have a choice about holding him on the toilet this INSTANT!

blah, blah, blah. downward spiral of my internal laughing and wondering where she comes from. as i am wondering all of life's perils, i feel something at my feet. only to look down and see a purple leather belt brushing up against my foot ever so sneakily. an indignant four year old smirking and walking away without a word. survival of the mentally fit here.....

refining fire

i was reading this article that our good friend todd posted on his FB account (FB means facebook mother ;)).

recently, i was talking with my dad about a profound parenting moment he had years ago. he was giving a talk in a religious setting about parenting. he was comparing the opportunity to parent to the experience of a sculptor. molding, shaping, cutting that clay into exactly what you want it to be.

he was feeling pretty good about his talk. afterwards, a good friend, who also happened to be very wise professionally about family dynamics, told him that although his talk had a good concept, it was wrong. kids are more like folded paper. with every part of growth a new crease unfolds. as a parent you are the one to open each fold on their sheet of paper. sometimes the way we parent leaves some papers closed, unable to see what's inside.

this spoke such truth to me. grayce and easton are so similar in their responses to our correction, praise, love. i figured that it was our parenting accolade that our kids were obedient, generally well behaved, sweet, did tricks on cue and on and on. then, well, if you've ever read one post on here you know that child number three turned my entire world upside down. it still has me shocked. she is entirely, completely something i never knew could come from our combined DNA. i had no idea personality traits like that could be floating around the family. this analogy of the folded paper has helped me see the truth of it.

i believe our spirits have lived far longer than these physical bodies. we were intelligences long before the marriage of our spirits and physical bodies. i think that might somehow explain why ella naturally likes using bigger, more correct phrases than my other kids. she thinks so much differently. it's a television to her, and calling the "children" in suites her more than calling "kids" in for dinner. like when she was two and asked me to play princesses with her. she handed me prince charming and asked me to play kingdom. what? king.....dum.....mom!

you be king dumb. oh my. yep, paper i tell you.

in general conference a few months ago, my inbox for texting was hot when this talk was being given. at first i balked at his chipper, life's good with a child that has "unique characteristics" attitude. i had to let it sink into daily thought. guess what? he's right. surely, these "special kids" ARE making us more godlike. they are the refining fire of my soul. they make the rough edges smooth with humility.

so, i will let ella give the parting thought here:

peace momma, peace.

just can't get enough

because i want 42 more chubby babies....

to make up for 5 weeks of absence here....

i should let you know that the beloved kitchen has returned to function. can you spot the sous chef?

what winter has brought....

because the food quality doesn't override the obsessive compulsive need to germ x the entire establishment, we don't participate in playgrounds at the golden arches usually. usually. but, i have been known in deep despair to let my kids scale the petri dish of community cast off germs, but you know, i kind of think those sorts of things are better left at home with a good vat of bleach.


that leads me to exhibit our winter finds that have made this season in the mountains bearable.


first up. ella's enchantment. we are not channel TV watchers. netflix and DVD's give us a good fill. these have topped her (and the older kids, they just might not want to admit to these) favorites as of late.

ponyo. a disney film with american stars released in asia? meets the general annoyance and overplayed at our house requirement. an instant favorite.

ella can't get enough of babies. as in, it is watched everyday. it is quite extraordinary in its content, i agree. she might have crossed the line when she asked if i would dress up like the tribal african mothers for halloween. as you can imagine, i gave a line about public nudity being illegal and such and how we don't belong to tribes. and no, mormonism doesn't count as tribal honey.

and this one still has me gobsmacked. mostly because it's french but yet somehow my kids know exactly what is going on and the conversing that takes place. they laugh hysterically at it. i can't wrap my mind around it.

and finally. if you are looking for a good, guilty indulgence, DOWNTON ABBEY is perfect. i just finished my second go around of the brittish series. 7 episodes was not enough for me. it does seem they are releasing the second season in the fall of this year. i predict that i will watch the series a few more times before then. i am addicted to beautiful architecture and interiors, not to mention that the dress for this series is unmatched. throw in a little drama and light hearted tributes to class and change, my heart was won. netflix has it and you can read more about it here.

and one last sign that spring has got to be on its way is the discussion of utter disgust the redhead and i had last night about how we wasted our hour before bed. his was spent on angry birds and i may or may not be suffering tetris thumb......

for anyone who's ever envied my kitchen....

get your "un" envy fix here.... sniff, sniff.

it's called a faulty water line that has been on slow drip for a while.

it means mold contamination barriers all about your house and such. as you can see, missy is getting a kick out of the fiasco.

me, not so much. because those wooden things behind the couch, my cabinets torn in pieces. my wood floor is up, soggy, and beat to heck from a fridge being moved by gruff men. and now the mold is remedied, they left my kitchen looking a mess and said, fix it yourself ma'am. and the translation for that is prolly another 2-3 weeks of tears and discomfort.

could be worse.

getting there

the decor has been sluggish around these parts so i was thrilled when i found this item and couldn't get it out of my mind. like wake up and it is the first thing i think about love. and say it buffet instead of buffay, k. just cause i think it's funny my kids will be ruined because of my slaughtering the english language and all. buffet, buffet, jimmy buffet. hardyharhar.

and this here, evidence that the valentine's chicken does exist and visits the mac house every gal dern year.

this picture boasts my valentine's day blossoms that my "cinnamon lips" got me. (oh that was funny, cinnamon lips, whew, i can't contain myself sometimes) hehehehe.

32 reasons to celebrate 32 years of YOU

happy birthday to my red headed tramp;) and photo credit to my fantastic sister in law ashley!

32. my red head is nice.

31. like so nice, it could well take up numbers 1-32. i don't know what i did to deserve it.

30. he is happy.

29. like so happy, it could take up numbers 1-32.

28. despite that this looks like a joke, nice and happy are who he is. being around him makes you realize that nice and happy are a good way to go through life.

27. he is a partner that, without prodding, makes me want to be better. he has never instructed me on "how to" anything.

26. my redhead boasts a mean saturday morning waffle. this year his quest for a perfect waffle maker came to an end. his waffle skills have turned mad with some tips from my uncle david, who is waffle king.

25. scott is very laid back. no matter how flat a pancake can be, he always takes both sides in. rarely is a judgment ever made on his part of anyone, and if it is, well it's because i tell him to do it (make the judgement that is :))

24. scott is not a salesman. he enjoys truth.

23. scott hates money. it makes him sweat if i turn any money over to him. he knows where i keep the budget and i don't know that he has ever voluntarily got it out. thank goodness we have a testimony of dave ramsey.

22. despite scott hating on the green, he is passionately adamant that the house will be paid off for our 40th birthdays. (that's a lot of beans and rice and rice and beans)

21. scott loves suturing people up. skulls, backs. he takes pride in his stitches. the kids take pride in broken clothing as their dad can sew up anything.

20. scott loves to be in the operating room. 4 days a week isn't enough. he loathes clinic days and drug seekers.

19. scott has never done homework on a sunday. thru 4 years of a zoology degree and a chemistry minor at weber state, 2 years of a PA degree at yale, not one minute of the lord's time went to books. i think that could qualify him as stalwart.

18. scott does not fight with me. he does not degrade or make negative comments to me. sometimes i ask him to, to keep things lively, but deep down i think he might be afraid of me.

17. scott likes to putter in the yard, this drives me crazy because we have no yard.

16. i gave scott a fancy yale alumni license plate tag for christmas for his car. i found it on my car. when i questioned him about this he said his car was missing a hubcap and because of number #22 he will not be purchasing a new one. there are no airs about him.

15. scott loves people. he loved to say hi to people when we went on a vacation once and it mildly bugged me because i was 7 months pregnant. but once the fetus came out, i have thought about how nice this attribute makes him.

14. once when a dog bit his nose and i laughed, he forgave me and still wanted to be married to me.

13. there's a good chance he hasn't spent $20 since we got married. wait no, once he went to smith and edwards. he might have come out with a receipt.

12. he is the ultimate romantic. flowers, planned dates. fancy things and such.

11. my having his children makes him weep.

10. he is straighter than an arrow. in 10 years of marriage, i have never seen him just get out of bed. eyes open arms folded. it's my fondest thought of him.

9. the concern of another is ever present in his mind. he never gives way to any needs of his own.

8. he loves sushi. loves sushi. loves sushi.

7. tonight at his birthday dinner, (sushi) he beamed with pride as ella downed a tuna-salmon roll, grayce consumed udon with squeals, and easton devoured a very spicy curry rice. he said it was a proud moment to be the father of such diverse palettes.

6. he loved living in england for two years.

5. he has become a reader this year. after 6 years of forced reading, he couldn't be bothered. his nights are now consumed with books.

4. he's never questioned a decision i have made. good or bad. that makes me feel loved.

3. he will vomit on a roller coaster.

2. he thinks alternative medicine is hokey pokey.

1. he loves me. makes me want to be better. makes me wonder everyday what good deed heaven is rewarding to be his.

antics

(ella's discovery of the 12-18 month pile of boy clothes. apparently i made a mistake, she tells me. these are her summer oberalls mom. yes dear)

ella says to me: mom, we shouldn't pee on new couches, right?

me: that's why mom and dad got the 7 year protection plan honey, go potty ella.

wailing and gnashing of teeth insert here.

i will never, ever in this lifetime figure ella out. the older two, i know exactly how to talk with them, convince them, bribe them, whatever. ella, not a chance. which is why i have had white knuckles for 4 years and 4 months.

yesterday in church, well, back up here. before we get to church it took world war 3 to get her out of the house. she finally left with a summer dress that was too short and a sweater to cover her sleeveless arms, hence the winter season upon us. it took the jaws of life to pry her from scott's leg and get her to go to primary.

once she found me in sacrament meeting it was like being on a spit over a fire, slowly roasting. she was hot, hot, hot, hot. sweater comes off revealing the winner of WW3. then, the cough starts. oh her poor cough. she STILL has severe reflux. as in the doctor has said it is rare to see a case as severe as hers reflux. bless my soul. this is also rowans case. anyway, it causes a most annoying cough. more like a gag, ears stinging, who is making that noise cough. something akin to an animal attacking dinner. of course i quietly ask her to cover her mouth, this only spurs on her need to defy and cough more. and a holler to my ward members, would you please start pinching your neighbors in sacrament meeting, it is way TOO QUIET! at one point i am holding her jaw from coughing as there was a real sweet moment over the pulpit that has everyone weeping and a pin drop would've interrupted it.

her boice (voice).

even her school teachers have commented on it. it's loud and sassy. it has just the right pitch that when the on switch is on, oh murder. i was shushing her all thru sacrament when she finally yells, stop shushing me mom!!!!!!

when she started taking her tights and undies off in the isle, i decided it was time to go out. i've never had to punish a 4 year old for indecent exposure, especially in a house of worship. did i mention the stake president was about 4 rows away. like this should matter, but somehow when you can see your child's bum cheek in the lord's house, it does tend to turn your cheeks to a right nice shade of crimson.

i so love her, fiercely. she needs me the most as we figure out how to go along in life. my prayers at night concerning her usually produce the most tears and earnestness. i don't want her to change, no. i want her to be the best she can be, in turn making me a little better. knocking off my rough edges. she's knocking something off of me, that's for sure. her personality holds so much of life and i feel happy to be apart of it, as long as no bum cheeks are involved inappropriately;)

blessing

today i pulled the beautiful ivory table cloth from my linen drawer. i spread it over our dining room table, the table that we purchased from scott's family. it served his mom's table thru her growing up.

a few years ago i dropped by my grandpa's house to say a quick hello. i liked to go by as often as possible as he was recovering from the sting of loosing his sweet companion, my beloved grandma. he was quite flustered. in an attempt to keep himself busy he had signed up to feed the missionaries. i was proud of him as he was buzzing about the kitchen, getting everything just perfect, or just as grandma would have had it. the tablecloths, he kept lamenting, where did she keep the tablecloths. he was earnest in his desire to keep up the appearances she created when she had people to her table.

after grandpa passed, we were scouring the house, taking with us treasures that would help us heal. the physical things left behind that could give us left behind, some kind of comfort. down in the deep basement, in a lone corner, i discovered a small cabinet. i opened it and found grandma's tablecloths. stacked neatly with a JCPenny label attached was what would become my tablecloth.

i thought about the scripture in our "mormon bible" in mosiah, the one that talks about the sting of death taken away thru the sacrifice of jesus christ. what a wonderful thing to ponder on the day we bless my baby. we gather as a family, take this babe into priesthood arms, and bestow upon him a name and a blessing.

i ponder those not with us on momentous days as these. there to give me comfort are the butter dish from scott's grandma, the dining table from grandpa scott's family, the table cloth that grandma stashed away. tears seem to roll down my cheeks as i feel their absence, but comfort is given in the sacrifice of an elder brother that takes the sting of death from my heart. because deep in my heart i know they await to be reunited with us. maybe their heart tugs also wanting to be with us. so, i celebrate the ones here, 2 sweet great grandmas, whose lives well lived make me better by being apart of them. all of these people rooting for me, for my family, for my sweet baby, gathering us together with their love.

begging you for mercy, yeah, yeah...

this picture perfectly represents rowan's perfect mercy;)

that was a fun one hit wonder, no?

mercy has pricked my thoughts lately. it seems as though snippy has become my middle name. and not wanting to hide behind excuses, BUT. winter with a newborn does tend to lead to large amounts of time spent in a house with other short people who demand attention. lots of people inside all of the time usually means much more chaos and such. it's basically life. i don't think we have boasted health at our house since november. it's enough to put you in the nut house at times.

i have with sadness watched my pattern around here form with the long winter months of reflection. the other day grayce was testing out her sewing machine she received for christmas. her test run was rice bags, only we didn't have a large surplus of rice, so she used some hand me down wheat. she filled it up for quite some time only to get it 1/5 full and then proceeded to sew it shut. we were heading off to a birthday party which had me cooking supplies for the bulk of the afternoon. add sunday to the mix and it meant i had been solo for the day, plus a really cute attachment needing nourishment frequently. my nerves were frazzled. so, when my beauty came down with her beanbag, presenting the finished product that was less than finished, i snapped. the machine wasn't threaded properly leaving a huge build up of thread that never really closed the fabric around most of the bag. wheat had dripped along her trail from the upstairs to the downstairs to show me her creation. this was the present she wanted to give for the birthday party and i snippily let her know she couldn't give that and why didn't she call me when the machine started acting up. in her tween emotional response system, tears started falling at the criticism. i on the other hand was void of sympathy as i was pulling the dessert out from the top oven, the two pans full of rolls from the bottom oven, squelching cries from a cantankerous 4 year old about missing shoes, and directing my husband about the placement of the food in the car.

at the time i didn't view this as a horrible high stress situation. obviously it was as i write it out and have had her response haunt me for a week. i am still working with great skill to develop methods to divide my attention. it is a transition requisite for each change life brings.

as i have thought hard about what i am lacking that would have provided grayce with a nurturing response, the thought that fills my mind is mercy.

mercy is something in this life i will never ever comprehend. it is my weakness for whatever reason. i think being a perfectionist plays a large part of it. but understanding mercy would solve every crisis in my present struggle.

as i was talking about it with my mom, she gave me the thought that a loving father, abounding with mercy, wouldn't allow us back with him by the skin of our teeth. mercy allows to have abundant opportunity to feel endless eternal bounds. it quiets the voice of perfection and offers patience in its place. it offers a humble heart to replace one hardened by life's trivialities. my extension of mercy allows me divide my time sufficiently to the people i love the most.

understanding mercy is precisely the reason we are on this earth. it will take me a lifetime of trial and joy to understand sufficiently a loving father's sacrifice of an only begotten son. comprehending that miracle more thru daily hungering for understanding is what propels one forward and unlocks daily peril.

so here's to today, with a grateful heart grasping a little more of this beautiful thing called mercy.

rolling roland

ahh. sweet fetus looking soft and fancy...

we are still working on his name around here. some days, i forget how much i love his name. then, i have to say it over and over. i get real jane austin{ish} and fall in love all over with his name. but, just because i's be lovin it, don't mean nuthin.

the redhead was saying the family prayer and when he got to the above mentioned, it was something like this:

and please bless baby....... uh......please bless baby o, baby owen, (grayce whispering, rowan, dad, it's rowan)
and please bless baby rowan.

now it's a different name, i get that. multiple people make me spell it out for them and still mistake it.

one sweet neighbor has had me spell it twice and every time she hears mention of him she says with disdain, rowland, ROWLAND?

i politely interject - no, no, ROWAN.

ROGAN?

no, no, RRROOOWWWAAANNNN.

this name thing is getting so so silly.

and let's just add fuel to the roland fire, he has just taken up rolling like a fool........

roll on roland, roll on.....

bubbles..

abound when rowe is tired.....

easton

it is time for an update on big brother. 7 years have come and gone and it gets me teary to have a first grader.

he has amazed us this past year. my shy, quiet boy has come out of his shell. i have a real boy on my hands.

easton is an amazing reader. like truly amazing. he reads the books his fourth grade sister reads. they swap books and it amazes me. his fluency and pronunciation are unmatched. now, this doesn't mean that because of his classy reading skills he loves such classy material. captain underpants keeps him in stitches. what a great series for the ultimate little boy! all the naughty words you can imagine! improper times for bodily functions to occur and all. my little brother passed on all his books about captain underpants to him and he has been in heaven, reading and re-reading. i can only imagine what he and his friends talk about when they are alone....

on the other hand, where the red fern grows also stole his heart. and who wouldn't love big dan and little ann?

and all that complaining i do and have done about birthing the size of his cranium? well, i should be quiet. i think big skulls mean big brains. this kid has fallen in love with sports to the extreme. scott took him to a jazz game at the beginning of the season (it pays to work with surgeons that have season tickets and are also on call a lot). easton was subtracting 3 digit scores in 5 seconds or less, more amazed at the lead than his math skills. we just assumed he was learning that at school until we talked to his teacher at the quarter conference. she told us they were working with simple one digit math, not 3 digit. the other day he started at 40+40=80,80+80=160 and so on. he went all the way up to 8hundred and something, added those up and was off by a hundred. it kind of totally blows my math retarded mind. he loves numbers. he can tell you any score to any basketball game played. saturdays are for watching college ball and the mornings are for grabbing the newspaper and tearing it open to the sports. after one lesson on how to read the key in the newspaper and it has saved me from having every page of the paper all over until he finds the sports section. we don't have cable so scott found an online channel that broadcasts the games live. he is now diving into converting the different time zones! this kid. honestly. thank goodness he has still retained his mild mannered personality so that his boredom at school will not turn into naughtiness. he prides himself on being a great listener, thank heavens. we have also had a great teacher that is giving him work to do when he finishes early which i really appreciate.

he is also my cinema loving child. where did he come from?? math and movies? he can tell you the release date of any upcoming movie out there. i have noticed this decrease as we don't have access to channels with commercials lately. (hooray!) hulu and netflix on the DVD player satisfy my very smallish appetite for the tube. but, he always knows when some violent action packed movie is coming out, and what it is rated. he knows very well even some PG's we get to preview and i am amazed at his moral compass. we give him rules and he thrives on keeping them. now,

before i get all big headed about this kid, let me tell you some things that keep this kid normal.

peeing. seriously. i am wiping down urine from every part of the toilet. i have told him over and over that at this house, until the men step up and scrub the toilets, they WILL SIT DOWN. i don't care about your manhood. if you want to retain your standing status i have to make it out of those bathrooms without having to clean the poison off the baseboards and walls. those little squirt guns are incredibly wobbly and tend to let loose like a cannon. and oh murder, i can always tell when friends come over. repeat.the.whole.thing.over. boo! an invention must be brewing in some mothers head that somehow aims, flushes and washes their hands at once. boys will be boys!

so, there an update on the testosterone at this house. how lucky i am to have two little boys and not the naughty kind like my brothers were. i love you guys, but holiness to our mother, you guys were devils! i am quite inclined to think my two little boys are my reward for enduring the antics of my 4 brothers growing up!

photo....shoot

mom, another one? seriously....

me: ella, rowan probably got a good look at your dental hygiene the first 1,254,678 times you thrust it upon him, dear. let's keep our saliva in the proper place.

ella: i'm dust sowin him what tees look like mom.

this is the milk intoxication look. he is drunk after the "nursies" as ella says.

this perfectly renders my baby's life. ella's schedule includes the mauling of a smallish, slightly chubbed out baby.

one friday night i found myself alone with 4, FOUR, ahem, children. my husband found himself at work late in the operating room. so i found some styling spritz, and fancied my fella up.

alfalfa if you please. and for the record, he looks exactly like my brother vaughn in this one. and well, vaughn is the male version of myself.

beiber fever at our house, thought some tween motha would appreciate this one.

you ain't nothin but a hound dog....

rowe's honest opinion of the situation ;)

bath time. love my nekked baby after baths. being a winter baby i don't get near enough skin loving time with the bebe. soon enough.

mr nancy

ted l nancy was sent to me in the mail. well, not ted himself, but his book. my alaska brother kept telling me about this letter writing man. since his descriptions always left me in fits of slobbering laughter, he knew i would truly enjoy it.



it is a book that jerry seinfeld helped get published after coming upon some of the funny letters ted wrote to various businesses. i have thoroughly enjoyed this book. i also have never read a book that has me laughing out loud and slobbering to prove my enjoyment. you can read about it HERE.



some of my favorite letters include those correspondences to hotels. my favorite laugh out loud moment occurred when reading about ted's inquiry to be accommodated by this hotel with his level 4 bed wetting status. or maybe it was the one to a hotel to ask if they could accommodate his third leg with a ottoman next to the bed. no, no, it has to be the inquiry to nordstrom's asking for the mannequin resembling his neighbor who just passed away and ted's need to purchase it and give it to the family as a way to heal. or maybe it was the inquiry to a seafood restaurant requesting to be seated by the dumpsters because of the immense odor he suffers from. if you think michael scott's stupidity is slightly entertaining, then ted will keep you in stitches.



also things that are tickling my funny bone lately include my mum,dad+technology.



we were celebrating my little sis's 16th birthday back in november. we ventured out with one toddler, two new borns, two post partum mothers, one technologically challenged mum, and a freshly turned 16 year old for an outing to the city. translated, a packed SUV, some traveling and FOOD. of course. anytime my mother is involved with a cell phone of any kind you can be sure it will be funny. we heard her phone ring, which involves a couple of seconds for her to verify that it is indeed HER phone. then, you have to watch the frantic digging through her purse and her banter with all around who it might be. somehow she has her phone rigged to tell the caller she is in a meeting. now, bless her heart. my mother isn't a high faluting weekday meeting goer. religious worship serving meeting goer, you betcha. but business suit, a call on line one - no. so her revealing this to us, that she has let some callers know she is in a meeting, is hilarious. the other hilarious factor is that she doesn't know how she does it. by the time this whole thing takes place she has missed the call, or hit the magic button to tell someone she is in a meeting. usually you get a call back. she has also branched out this past year to texting....



while on the subject of texting, i warned my dad that humor of this next situation was blog worthy, he was warned. his place of business has him using a fancy pants iphone. fancy nancy indeed. after some questioning about how, if, and when, texting is slowly winning his heart. he decided one day in the christmas bustle, to text my mom a love note of sorts thru his new found communication skills. my parents are ogden high sweethearts. both grew up in the heart, and i mean downtown, of the great o town. 27th and adams and 23rd and orchard for locals. let that bear testimony to you of the gravity of the inner city in which they lived. we have a lovely tradition in O town displaying tons of little house things with cute christmas scenes that adore the local downtown park. we call it christmas village. while in high school bliss, my dad accompanied my mom without complaint. once the courtship was over and children came around, my dad's declaration to all was that it was no longer fun. my mom's christmas wish every year is for his accompaniment to the christmas village. so, in a text message he sent to her it was something to the effect of this:



i love you now more than ever,

will you go to christmas village with me?

love,

billy mac



after he sent the message, he realized he sent it to the stake president instead of my mom. he quickly had to try and undo this sticky situation. and look up there, no name to the recipient of this text. the thought of the stake president (a mormon term meaning someone high up) thinking that my dad (his executive secretary) was declaring christmas love to him had my poor motha laughing her way out of every shop she entered that day. she would enter a place of business with the intent to fetch holiday gifts, only having to exit because she couldn't control her giggles. she called me 5 hours after said incident barely able to get it out, in turn causing us to echo hysterics of laughing.

the stake president's reply to my dad was essentially asking if he could take credit for it and send it on to his own jingle bell sweetheart. . . . . . . . .

entertainer

since we have been couped up in large amounts as of late, i decided to liven things up. instead of a faux hawk, we opted for an enchanting lady liberty do after baths.........he didn't think it complimented his best features so well.

also, for entertainment, we've turned to food. and unfortunately these *&%$ truffles won my affections. but i refer to them as the *$%# truffles, and of course that counts as mind swearing. never uttered aloud....

ella apparently has also turned to food. but her problems lie with the parentals being in charge of her consumption. because i told her 4 times, no marshmallows before dinner. she took things into her own hands. plastic puts hair on your chest right?

and, just to liven things up, i'll leave you with another shot of our lady/man liberty and the new couch. it only took me remembering that we tested this baby out before i was pregnant and debated every time the price dropped $100. when it got down to $499, i caved...........too many years on a student budget i tell you.

could you just eat him up? grayce asked the other day if it was wrong that she wanted to dollup him in whipped cream and eat him up. no, no, my dear. totally normal.

humor unfolds and farewell chainsmoker laugh

today i laughed. real hard laugh. this is a fantastic thing if you are a post partum mother with 4 ankle biters, truly. upon laughing at a very funny thing, i found that my pregnancy laugh was gone. leaving behind no traces of the gut wrenching laugh i was tortured with for 9 months.

my little sister kept telling me, oh sister, i will be so sad when your pregnancy laugh goes away.

it was a deep, throaty, relaxed, life is within my grasp laugh. it was a loosey goosey thing that made me laugh hysterically when my husband was attacked by a dog, also when he fell down the hardwood stairs. now. you know i apologized for that. i did, i did. to him, to the world.

what is it with post partum that the entire house has to be cleaned, de-junked and sterile in 5.2 minutes or less? maybe it is the nine months you sit on the couch tortured with whatever ailment has you hanging. like a bad back and a provider that fixes bad backs all day living with you? nightmare city. every time i bent over and winced because of the nature of a bulging disc in your back, the redhead PA was on me like a cop filling up his monthly violation quota. he did dishes, cleaned floors, did laundry. he was such a beautiful house wife. i was on the sidelines watching, feeling guilt like a mountain drenched in snow. it kind of encompassed me that awful guilt. and now, it's gone more or less. the more i clean, de-junk, and scrub it lifts, bit at a time. even the children are not safe from dejunking. i keep telling them to watch out or that next load to the DI could be them. threats are such effective parenting (not):)

so, au revoir chain smoker pregnancy laugh. until we meet again. which, with a looker like this, my hopes are high that we will!!

somehow...

time is passing too fast and too slow.

the six week baby mark is upon us. my expectations for this mark were a lot higher than what has actually come from it but such is life.

at my hospital discharge, i was sure at the six week mark a jack hammer would not be requisite for me to get into pants. also, i thought carrying around 12 ounces of milk wouldn't still be so painful and uncomfortable, or for that matter look so chubby on my frame. and for sure i didn't think that i would be suffering high blood pressure from a lack of sleep. but.....

alas. all this has come and life marches on.

and, i am still old and tired, but the upside is this:

he has the same profile all my babies have had, and for that matter, most of my siblings. he belongs, favoring mostly miss grayce lou's looks. which being interpreted is his motha. but just as grayce has he will soon develop a look of his own. speaking of grayce, here is a picture of when she had gotten little bubba to sleep and she wanted to pose as though she was also asleep.

i didn't argue that this looks incredibly incriminating to neglectful parenting. a large child such as herself draped all over such a tiny life.

i remember telling someone once that parenting is the highest high you will ever achieve, also with it are the lowest lows. i think it has something to do with the explosion of love that accompanies this job.

there is nothing better than a newborn smile, goo, smell.

there is nothing more miserable that sleep deprivation and lots of small people depending on you.

4 kids is a lot.

a lot of:

work, poop,food preparation,christmas presents,car seats,fighting,diapers,nursing,patience,laundry,mind swearing,homework.

also a lot of:

laughing,joy,love,kisses,hugs,family dinner,jokes,snowmen,night time stories,holiday joy.

and although the latter list is smaller, it is also more rich and fulfilling which somehow makes the jackhammer routine getting into jeans worth it. also, i have yet to locate my belly button, this may or may not be a problem, depending on how you look at it. and, somewhere out there are my legs, you know the one that got cut out from under me? soon enough they will return and with it will be a mournful momma realizing that her baby is growing all too soon.....

look to the left there....

and you will see one of my favorite baby gifts.

my bestie brooke bestowed upon the fruit of my loins the most wonderful gift. a minky. and seriously, i worship the little silky. it goes thru the wash multiple times a week so that my manchild can bask in a little heaven. go visit the sit by nov. 9th and you too will enjoy free luxury.....

like my red head wants a large one from sandy claws, shhhh don't tell

what's in a name

well, apparently a joke at our house.

you see. i did this earth bending stupid thing once. when scott and i were dating, i said," i have a daughter waiting and her name is grayce." now, realize we both knew we were going to get married so this didn't come as a shock to him. but, i could feel my little grayce long before i was married and i knew she was a grayce, i just knew it. feeling the guilt of just telling scott the name, i stupidly gave up naming rights of any males that might enter our family right there on the spot. let me warn any unmarried readers right now, do not do this. one day, you will be pushing a watermelon thru a lemon and you can name that watermelon any dag gum thing you want. okay?

well, 10 years later, with our recent boy fetus emerging, the above mentioned comes into play. i knew this and told my red head this information, the fetus is a boy honey. i guess i am one of those lucky ones who just know what they are having. one time years ago, he told me that the next manchild should be named william bryant. two family names. great. for 4 years i have been able to feel this little boy hovering around, knowing he was coming forth eventually. once we were pregnant, i quickly reminded husband what the name was, after all, it was his idea. i had just happened to fall in love with it. my best friend snagged the william part and that put a damper on things for us. like my best friend since childhood that i still talk to regularly and we eat dinner together a lot. i asked her where she got the name from and she said they really liked pirates of the caribbean and apparently there is someone named william on that show. ( i know, i know. my cinema retardedness cripples me, i have never seen the show) well. there was no attachment with that right? surely i could steal the name. it is a 5 generation name in my family. so, we thought of naming him william and calling him liam. except once i heard the name liam when i was 18 or so and instantly thought the spelling would be lee-um. and it made me think of a green pea. just like the name gordon makes me think of a pickle. but say liam neeson to me and i get real romantic about the name liam, it sounds so.......brittish. the other bad news about liam is that it is on the top ten list right now and heavens knows there are enough grayce's and ella's for me to want originality.

so, the next step was to find another name. i fell head over heels in love with the name simon. uncrinkle your nose right now. simon cowell will not be around forever. i didn't give grayce the middle name of mae because macey grey was popular at the time and i didn't want to curse my child with a dyslexic future by naming her grayce mae. well, we all know macey grey chased her waterfall out of the spotlight and she became a one hit song wonder. simon, funky traditional. oh so original, but scott hated it.

then.

one day i put out feelers on facebook for a boy name. our friend shawn suggested koen. we both really liked it. for 3 or 4 hours we thought, okay, here it is. as we were parting ways for bed that night, the red head rubbed my belly and said, "goodnight little rowan." we both giggled uncontrollably. like, dry heaving giggling. i told him he had his naming rights revoked. if he couldn't remember what he liked, how could i trust him? we could end up with a boomer if we weren't careful.

it was such a dilemma.

so. one night, said red head was getting serious about the name. (like a week before the induction keep in mind. which is why it was an earth bending stupid thing to let him name the boys. the male clock does not tick like a females.) he looked up rowan and found it was a celtic name that meant little redhead. he also had a praise jesus moment in church one week where he fell in love with simon. so. we had two names, two routes to take. red head got the name rowan and simon for the back up. we were all holding out hope for a curly red head. so as this little one emerged and we saw the gobs of black hair, we thought oh, hello simon. but, this little boy was not a simon. he was rowan. within seconds we knew. and that was okay. the hour we left the hospital we had to give a middle name and i let scott do it. he chose william. he wanted each of our boys to have something from each family. easton got scott and rowan got the 5 generation name from my side. pretty good trade.

and boo to brooke shields for naming her girl rowan. it is a boy name. and it made me cringe when i heard all the girl rowans. no one wants a pat. really. and for all accounts, this poor baby gets called the craziest things. it is just so busy around here. he's been called rogan, owen, baby o, or just baby. sometimes we look at each other, kids included, and say - what's his name again? he's baby to us. either way, there is no shortage of love.

the fruit of my loins emerges into this world- the birth story

i had a secret this time. well, it was more like a "i don't know if i want to do this secret". i had a scheduled induction and kept it mum. the doctor really pushed for me to do this in a controlled environment because of a collection of things. head placement issues, abundant amniotic fluid, strep b positive.


the morning of the induction was just the most out of body experience. ella's birthday was the day before which was a great distraction, but she had an allergic flare up and was miserable the whole day. i kept debating if i really wanted to go through with it....really, i did. my mom planned a special halloween sleep over with the kids so we could keep it on the down low. i hate others expectations and wanted to do this with scotty and not a million people wondering when, how, if....you know. anyway. i also had a lot of fears. i just kept saying i forgot the good parts and could only remember the bad. after three crazy deliveries you get like that.


when we got to the hospital i had a prime induction rate of 7:00 am, which meant my doctor is grand and had it put on the schedule 2 weeks in advance. i carried baby until 39 weeks and 3 days, which is the longest i have ever done. when the doctor came in he checked baby and sure enough the head was not down but off to the right. we started the penicillin drip and he told me we needed to reevaluate at 10:00am about head placement. he told me to start tinkering with the head to see if i could get fetus to move down. the whole pregnancy i could press by my belly and get his head off from the right or left side.


i knew in his mind he was putting together a back up plan, which meant c-section. with so much fluid (again) he was worried the cord would slip out if the head was too high and other possibilities. i started preparing myself (for the millionth time this pregnancy) for a c-section or some grim scenario. the doctor came in at 10am with the ultra sound machine and we all cheered to find out baby had moved and the head was engaged, although still sunny side up. that was enough. off to the pitocin we went about 10:30am and then the show started.


i wish i could put words together about how different i have felt with this pregnancy. i could have gone two more months, i just didn't get crazy enough to want it out. i know it's odd. i had really forgotten the magic of babies and all of the good stuff. so every minute i was in labor i kept thinking, maybe i could back out and come back next week. then. the pitocin started to work. i am super sensitive to it and was commiserating thru contractions an hour into it. they were close together and long. after an hour i cried "uncle" and got the epidural. i was a four by then. there were a bunch of "new" things the labor and delivery unit wanted to try out on me. a new in utero monitor for baby, the kangaroo(the skin to skin when baby comes out) among other things. i think the hospital i delivered at has the best L&D unit around. the staff is amazing. it seems any nurse on the floor has been there 20 years, they are incredibly competent. anyway, with all of these new things came an onslaught of nurses, reps and others in the delivery room which was amazing for the delivery.



it went fast after the epidural (which worked this time, a dr. patel cocktail, yay!). i was closely monitored after the epidural for a past history of blood pressure dip suddenly. the staff was amazing with every concern that came up. i was a 4cm at twelve and with the help of tons of nurses giving advice on curling up in a ball, rotating every 30 minutes, by 2:00 i was 10 and working on the head coming down and turning baby. a couple of pushes and a vacuum to aid in the crazy head position, by 2:58pm baby emerged. with a room full of spectators knowing we were being surprised, it was like a home run hit with cheers when rocky (our doc) announced the gender.

for a minute, heaven and earth were in my hands. i have never had a moment like that with any delivery. the kangaroo requires immediate skin to skin with a nurse looking over baby to make sure all is normal. this little person laid on me, crying, while i had a good half hour to take it all in. this entire pregnancy i have worried something wouldn't be right, that we had been lucky to that point, that the delivery would be horrific. my miracle was realizing what an amazing experience bringing a baby into this world can be. i had no pain and emotionally i wasn't drained because of the quick pace and amazing support. i had 5 nurses that were there to observe the new utero monitoring machine who all had at least 10-15 years each of labor and delivery experience. they were cheering me on with every push and every great milestone. my doctor was so kind and so sweet. i know doctors are notorious for bedside manner either way. i feel so lucky to have one that offers up a kind and aware disposition. the best complement i can give him is to say that his experience made me feel like he was a pro but his understanding and tenderness with scott and i made us feel like we were his first delivery.



in that moment where i was feeling no pain and taking the relief of being done in with the perfect miracle on my chest, i thought about all my trepidation, nerves, and holding back about going thru the labor. it was like everyone disappeared and for a few sweet moments i thought of everything i would have gone thru to have those moments. the thought that came to my mind was crawling to the hospital thru any circumstance to have experienced that miracle. that's the part i had forgotten. the beauty of heaven extended just to you to offer you its very best. to show you the miracle of life, the miracle of creation, and the opportunity to have your heart opened to one more thing to adore and love. i feel so blessed to have been the receiver of that memory.

my recovery has been a recovery. not always easy and a little bumpy, but having a sweet little boy at my side cooing sure makes it easier. my recovery with ella was incredibly amazing so this has thrown me for a little loop. i guess when you feel everything during labor anything seems better than feeling that. that is all i can attribute the amazingly quick recovery with ella. but, to have those amazing moments while the epidural was still working with rowan was worth every ounce of pain i have had the past 11 days. i feel incredibly lucky to have had this memory and this amazing week with my superstar husband at the helm of all of the organization and sanity at our house.

and, i know 31 seems young. but i old. i tired. seriously. i have been bearing babies for 9 years and the red head and i are bone tired. like head aching all day bone tired. the busyness of 4 kids going 4 different directions makes me so sleepy. while my life feels like a dream of goodness, sometimes i wish i was in a dream, that would mean sleep. this too shall pass and my cup runneth over, that is what i keep telling myself.

many have bluntly asked, so i bet you are done right? 4 kids pretty much translates into you have populated the whole earth with today's trends. i am a firm believer that a family is not about numbers. what resonates for me is giving yourself time to find out what your family is supposed to be. i don't think welcoming a new baby is a time to make drastic decisions either way. we all have a purpose, a plan that is just for us. as unique as our individuality. why try to be like somebody else's family? i think finding out what is meant just for you is one of life's greatest sources of joy. amen :) at least for me.

so there you have. a birth story and a sermon. it's a twofer. two for one......

the fruit of my loins emerges into this world - the picture version

Rowan William Mac 10/19/10 2:58 p.m. 7 lbs. 15 ounces. 20 1/2 inches. perfection.


Ella is a pro at loving this little man. it is so sweet. the nurses at the hospital got a kick out of this onesie. it is set up like a eye chart and says: mom says if you can read this, change my diaper. unfortunately it is a 10 minute outfit, after it's been on 10 minutes, there are explosions with unfortunate consequences.......

ella was eating m&m's, telling rowan all about them.

nothing better than some cross eyed shots and a chubby toddler face filled with big sister pride.

i really don't know if he could be any more pretty, really i am so in love with this little man.

his head gets so cold. we have had to make him the roman catholic priest and cover him up.

just a few hours old meeting the other fruits of my loins.....

unfortunately ella had a horrible allergic flare up right before he was born. we made her wear the mask and go see dr. lloyd for clearance before she could meet row....

i am working on the birth story which might be a few days. i want to record these great things while they are fresh on my mind. we are doing well at this house.