Cabin Fever

I'm going stir crazy in my tiny house in the middle of nowhere. So I'm headed to my Mom's this weekend. I want to go to the movies, visit some long-time friends, go to the temple, do some shopping, all the things I can't do right here in Cokeville.

I've been in a weird place emotionally for the past few weeks. I've been thinking a lot about myself as a mother, how I'm living my life in the here and now, what kind of wife I've been lately, and other such hazardous introspective thoughts. I've been going through the vicious cycle of wanting some time alone, then getting annoyed with everyone for needing me all the time, followed by guilt for being a selfish crank bag.

One of the hard truths of motherhood is that it is NOT for the selfish. When you become a mother, you have to be willing to subordinate your desires below the needs of your children. Having the ultimate responsibility for shaping how your child feels about themselves and the world around them is a pressure that requires constant checking of self-indulgence. Mothers certainly need time to recharge their tanks in order to be able to give back to everyone else in the family. But I find myself bitter and irritated when I can't just hole up in my room and read a book or whatever else it is that I want to do, and that's just not acceptable.

When I get feeling like that I start to panic because I know I'm not being the kind of mother that my kids need. And if I can't meet the needs of the three that I have, why, WHY, would I want to have another one? In some ways it would be nice to be done because once the youngest is about 3 or 4 it would be a lot easier to do so many things. Go to other people's house without worrying the baby's going to fall down the stairs or destroy something, go on trips and know the kids can mostly entertain themselves in the car, etc. And yet, I'm not comfortable with the idea that my family is complete.

Something I've discovered pretty clearly about myself after reading The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman is that I really thrive on verbal praise and other words of affirmation. The other night when I told Dan I wanted to go to Utah for a couple of days, he was worried I might be mad at him or something. I told him that I just felt like I was sucking at all the important things with being a wife and mother and that I needed to go commune with my women friends and get some advice and a pep talk. He came back later that night and told me he thought I was doing a good job, that he hadn't noticed me being especially cranky or anything. He pointed out a couple of stressful things in our lives and said that he'd been feeling dissatisfied, too. He said I was doing a pretty good job of keeping up with the housework, etc. Hearing all those words, it's amazing how that soothed me. Words of praise and encouragement are like the balm of Gilead for me.

I have noticed the past couple of days since I first started writing this post that the Spirit has been whispering to me, helping me feel more positive. Making me believe that I'm doing a pretty good job. God works in so many ways and in addition to His personal comfort, He sends people to touch our lives in just the right way at just the right time. I've talked to a couple friends this week and that has helped so much.

So what started out as a self-indulgent whining session has morphed into a sigh-of-relief-I'm-doing-OK blog post. That's one thing I love about blogging. It lets me write and work things through in my mind. It's good therapy.

Santa Baby

This Santa suit was among the hand-me-downs that my SIL Lora gave me. I dressed Mack in it a couple of days ago and just wanted to gobble him up he was so cute!

And my personal favorite: (click to enlarge)

Mommy's Secret Weapon

'Tis the season for the sickies.

We had a rough few nights with Mack this week. For the first time he was totally inconsolable, thrashing around, just miserable, and not even the boobies would settle him down. He was snotty, pulling at his ears, and drooling up a storm. After a trip to the doctor and some antibiotics for an ear infection he is doing better. He is cutting a tooth, thus the drooling, and some kids get ear infections when they teeth. I had to google that because it seemed an odd connection, but I guess teething causes lots of extra saliva and mucus which can clog the eustachian tubes.

Since the sickies are a part of life in the winter, I thought I'd share my weapon of choice with you:

For older kids you can always dope them up with Zyrtec or Triaminic or Delsym, but for babies there's not much they can take medicine wise. My pediatrician recommends lots of saline nasal spray for infants and kids who don't know how to blow yet. I've found it to be much more effective than a booger sucker because it softens the snot and helps it flow out more easily.

I recommend just getting generic saline spray, not the kind specifically marketed for children, because the nozzle is wide and rounded so it doesn't poke their tender little nostrils. After squirting the magic juice up a little nose, all you have to do is wipe a few times and the kiddo will either sputter and blow the boogers out or the snot will be soft enough that they can snort it back in and clear their sinuses. Whenever Mack has a cold, I always squirt him up before he goes to sleep and he's able to breathe a lot better and stay asleep longer than if I use a booger sucker.

Sick, but oh so cute in his little santa suit! Next up on the blog: a collection of photos of Mack playing Santa Baby.

Feeling Sentimental

One of my favorite times of day lately is when I nurse Mack before his morning nap. I love closing the bedroom door and having some quiet time with my baby. I love sitting on my freshly made bed, light coming in through the window, and holding my sweet, warm boy in my arms. The end of his babyhood is rapidly approaching and I'm finding myself in a constant state of sentimentality and mild panic at the thought that this part of his life, and this tender time for us together, will soon come to a close.

Maybe that's why I nursed Amelia for so long. If I was nursing her, she was still my little baby and I could still hold her close to me and give her something no one else could. I'm definitely one of those women who really loves babies. Even with the sleep deprivation, I find so much satisfaction in feeling that little body next to mine. I love to feel Mack tug on my shirt or stroke my skin while he eats. I love to watch his beautiful face while he sleeps. I love to listen to him sigh and coo (although those days are mostly over.) I love the feeling of his limp body curling over my shoulder or resting in the crook of my elbow.

I've been indulging in some naps with Mack the past week or so. Instead of putting him in his crib or laying him beside me on the bed so I can sleep myself, I've layed him on my chest, tummy to tummy, and basked in the quiet feeling of his chest rising and falling against mine. As I listen to his breathing and feel his heart beat against mine, I am reminded that we once were one and I want to hold him forever.

I'm certain there is one more baby in our family, but even as I think of that, I get sad because I still want Mack to be the baby. I don't want his time to be over. And then I think about what this will be like when Baby #4 is about to become a toddler. I can't keep having babies just because I like babies. I have to continue being a good and attentive mother to my big kids, too. I've been in a pretty good place emotionally for the past couple of months, not too stressed out and coping with being a stay-at-home mom pretty well, but I've had times in the past and I'm sure I will continue to have times in the future where my depression gets the upper hand and I'll feel completely overwhelmed and wonder why in the world I had so many kids. But trying to imagine the feeling of knowing that I will never have another baby fills me with great anxiety and sadness.

It sounds like I'm baby hungry, but that's not it. I'm just hungry for my Mack to stay a baby awhile longer. And I'm hungry not to have this part of my life be over. How does a woman cope with saying goodbye to her childbearing self?

A Wyoming fairy tale

Here's what I ate for breakfast the morning after Halloween:

I'm drooling on my keyboard, how about you?

The Halloween sugar cookie project lasted about three days. It's a lot of work to roll out, cut and bake a double batch of sugar cookies, then mix, color, and bag multiple colors of homemade buttercream frosting (plus clean up the whole messy ordeal.) By the time I finally had the frosting ready to decorate the cookies, Lily had totally lost interest and Amelia only stuck around to decorate two or three cookies. I ended up doing most of them myself, but to be honest, it was nice to decorate in peace.

At one point, when my wrist was cramping up, I thought, "This is dumb. Why am I doing this if the girls don't even care?" But then I look at the above picture of sweet, sugary goodness and I have my answer. Amelia just looked at the picture of the cookie tray and said, "I want some of those cookies!" We may have some more pumpkin and leaf sugar cookies in our future!

Amelia is a complete fanatic for anything pink, so this was her favorite cookie.

Lily preferred to just decorate her fingers and lick off the pure sugar delight.

Mack was totally grubbin' on the plain sugar cookies and left a nice mess on the floor.

Now, on to the costumes. I was on the ball this year and ordered costumes from Amazon early in September. The only problem with that was trying to keep them in good shape for the next six weeks! Amelia wore her Cinderella dress almost daily, but she was restricted to wearing it only in the house and had to take it off whenever she ate.

Luckily she was still enamored with her "Cinda-yeh-yuh dess" by the time Halloween arrived. It was a great improvement over last year when she wouldn't even wear her costume. She was super excited to wear makeup and she even let me do her hair.

Lily chose out a Spanish dancer costume, but if you asked her what she was, she declared that she was a Spanish Princess.
She was in love with the makeup, too, and the ringlets in her hair. When I look at this picture, I'm afraid of what my future holds as the mother of a beautiful teenage girl!

Now, what princess tale is complete without a dragon? Becca loaned me this costume for Mack and when I stood him up in the wood pile I totally squealed with delight at how cute he was!

The two princesses declared that Mack was a "good" dragon who protected them and chased all the bad guys away.

He even had a forked tongue. The fairy tale was complete in the Wyoming wood shed castle.

The girls' favorite babysitter, Ana Cook, helped them carve their pumpkins the night before Halloween while Dan and I were out for our date. The small pumpkin and the chubby kitty pumpkin both came from Grammie's garden.

We got lucky again this year with no snow and warmer than freezing temperatures, so sweatshirts were sufficient for trick-or-treating. Dan and I took turns taking the girls out and enjoyed picking out all the nut and peanut butter candy bars from Lily's bucket and hogging them to ourselves.

Y'know, while you're in the moment of trying to make things festive and memorable for your kids, it seems like a big hassle. But in looking back, you realize it's worth it and there is more to mothering than just doing dishes and folding laundry. We really are the driving force behind how they will look back on their childhood.

Here's wishing you a happy holiday season. Forget the shopping and parties and Santa expectations and just make fun memories spending time with your family.

Wood Stove Perk #17

The perfect place to warm your tootsies on a cold morning.

Here comes Trouble!

Mack started crawling at 8 months, on September 11. Within about 4 or 5 days he was trying to pull himself up on the kitchen foot stool and other short things. He mastered that in about a week, then moved on to pulling himself up on taller things like the couch, the computer desk and the fire gate. He started cruising along the furniture this week. He is now 10 months old and has figured out how to open the kitchen cabinets.

Wait for it...wait for it...

"Mama, those pans attacked me!"

I guess it's time to install the safety latches before he discovers he can get into the cleaning supplies.

You know you're a Redneck when...

You have a picture of yourself posing with antlers and your friends call you Elmer Fudd.

You own an article of bright orange clothing and there's a chopping block outside your back door.

We've been in Wyoming for over a year now, so I think it's safe to say we've been initiated. But now Dan is officially a true Wyoming Man. He has been on many elk hunts with Brian in years past, but this year was the first time he had his own hunting license. He shot his first elk (a 5 point) on opening day, October 15th. I don't really get the whole hunting thing, I guess it's the thrill of the pursuit or whatever, but I do know it's male bonding at its finest. Processing your kill is expensive and we don't really have anywhere to store a bunch of elk meat, so Dan did what Brian does most years. They both gave their meat to a family in Afton whose children all have cystic fibrosis. Deer and elk meat is really high in protein, and a high calorie, high protein diet is really important for people with cystic fibrosis.

I sent Dan with the point and shoot camera to snap a few pictures of the hunt, but it was so cold that the battery wouldn't operate. I had to settle for a picture of Dan and his rack in our back yard. I think it's better that way- I didn't have to look at the glassed over eyes of a dead elk with his bloody tongue hanging out to the side.

I think we're gonna be on Jeff Foxworthy's Christmas card list this year.

I'll do anything for a picture

You ever notice how much less neurotic you become the more kids you have? I remember when Lily was a baby her Nana was visiting and we went out for breakfast. We were having pancakes and Nana let Lily taste some syrup and I was secretly freaking out, "She can't have sugar! She's too little!" Well, here we are at baby number 3 and I'm all about letting him not only have one lick, but several, of a sucker just so I can make a cute video.

Today, squeeze someone you love

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day in the United States. I'd like to take some time to reflect on loss and love.

As reluctant as I was to join Facebook last year, it has really turned out to be a wonderful tool for renewing and deepening friendships. In August I "friended" Amy Whitney, a bride whose wedding I photographed in Oakland, CA in 2007. The last time I saw Amy she and I were both pregnant (me with Mack) and due about the same time. Whenever I find a new friend on Facebook, I usually go straight to the photos first. Amy's small profile photo showed her and her baby girl and I was excited to see all the pictures of her daughter Alexis Lynne. I was confused when I saw the first image, thinking perhaps I had clicked on the wrong album. It was a picture of a cemetery plot. I clicked over to the next picture, and I knew right away that Alexis Lynne was stillborn.

Memories came rushing back of a summer night when Lily was 5 months old. My sister-in-law Lora had just given birth to her first child, Hope Lynn. Hope was perfect, with wispy brown hair, eyes like her sister Rachel, delicate fingers and rosy red lips. But instead of tears of joy, my eyes were filled with tears of anguish as I photographed my brother Don and his wife mourning the loss of their first child. Hope died from a cord injury, just one day before she was scheduled to be born. Here is an excerpt from my journal on Aug. 17, 2002:

Those were the hardest pictures I've ever taken... It was hard to keep
focusing and taking pictures through my tears, but I was so glad I could be
there to take those pictures for them. They are the most sad and beautiful and
sacred photographs... I am so honored that Don and Lora trusted me enough to be
there and record such a private moment. I didn't get to hold Hope that night, I
just kissed her head and stroked her hair. But in the morning I held her before
the man from the mortuary came to pick her up. Oh, how I love her! She is
perfect and she is an individual and I'm so glad I got the chance to hold her
and love her and grieve her loss... I think I will always remember the anguish and poignancy of Don carrying the beautiful tiny white casket with his baby daughter to the grave site.

Amy, amid her grief, has used her experience to become a voice for mothers suffering from infant loss. She and her husband Zach were fortunate to have the services of a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep at the hospital after Alexis was born. Amy is a digital scrapbooker and has designed a beautiful album of Alexis, detailing all the events of the pregnancy, birth, and memorial service. I think it has been tremendously healing for Amy to make Alexis's scrapbook. One of the amazing gifts that the people at Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep give to the parents is a memorial video of the photographs taken of their child. You can see Alexis Lynne's video on Amy's blog here. But be warned, you WILL cry.

The knowledge of Amy and Zach's loss came at time when I really needed to be reminded of my blessings. I was feeling numb from my responsibilities as a mother and struggling with my emotional attachment to my children. After reading Amy's blog, watching the video, and pondering the loss that I know nothing of, I crept into my childrens' rooms and wept as I watched each of them sleep. Amy was an instrument in God's hand in opening my eyes to the blessings before me.

When things get tough, I remember Amy, and so many others that I love (Becky, Lori, Becca, Samantha, Lora, Victoria, my Gram, my cousin Jen...) who would give anything to trade my trivial stress to have the privilege of holding their infant in their arms. Our children are our greatest blessings, and while God will restore all to those who are faithful, we must always remember to love the ones we have, while we have them.

Tonight, if you are so inclined, gather your loved ones around you at 7:00pm and light a candle in remembrance of all those who have lost a child during pregnancy or shortly after birth. Then go and squeeze someone you love.