Ezra's First Photo Op

Much thanks to doll of a friend Jessica Lawler for taking these beautiful photos of Ezra.

Ezra Oliver

Welcoming Ezra Oliver to our world. 

October 3, 2014

8:35am

7 lb. 12 oz.

21 inches

 

7.5 hours old

36 hours old

6 days old

10 days old

He is a bright-eyed joy. I'm so relieved he's healthy and here. It's miraculous to feel my heart expand so fast, welcoming in this new person. 

My third baby resolution is to worry less, cherish moments more and cuddle as much as possible. :)

Ezra, we love you! xoxo.

Our pretty gorgeous---but almost dated!---family photos

Not only did our friend Lisa from New York invite us to join them in the Outer Banks at a fantastic beach house this summer. She also suggested we do a beachy photo shoot while we were there. We kindly obliged her :). 

If you're near Rochester, New York or if you vacation at the Outer Banks in May, contact Lisa for amazing family photos.

I think these are my favorite family pictures we've ever taken. That pier at Avon, the boys, the playful authenticness, color scheme, and, vainly, my longer hair.

 With this new kiddo on the way, I had to post and appreciate these before they were outdated. (Three kids, what?!)

 Thankfully, this one will never be dated. I love this picture and this amazing guy!

A real person

During our first ultrasound we were told this little peanut has a two vessel umbilical cord instead of the typical three. That puts him at risk for certain heart and kidney problems, and potentially not growing at a normal rate. Thankfully, everything at the time looked normal.

Just in case, I had another ultrasound at about 28 weeks to make sure this little man is continuing to grow and develop well. Good news, he is! A "praise the Lord!" as my Grandma Bonnie put it. 

This photo was taken during that second ultrasound. Perhaps a bit hard to distinguish at first because the features are black from a little below the (potential) hairline and left side of his face. But that prominent button nose, puckery lips, and brow line say it loud and clear, "I am a real person in here!" And one that seems to resemble Noah a fair amount.

Of all the ultrasound photos we have--and our technician was generous in her printing--this is the one I hung on our frig. Seeing his face helps me realize this isn't theoretical: a real person with his own features, personality and gifts is joining us soon. Only 5 weeks to go!

Mommy Portrait

Love this picture of Noah and me by Lisa Ruth photography.

My Mothers

As I'm approaching having this baby (due in 17 days, but who's counting), I've had a few particular people on my mind: my mothers.

From left to right: my grandmother Linda, my great-grandmother Orpha, my mom Lori, and my great-great grandmother Mary. What wonderful women they were and are!

Without them there would be no me! Sounds like a Dr. Seuss take-away message, but it's a truth that's resounded in me lately more than ever. My profound thanks to them for their desire to mother and their ability to mother so well.

And happy birthday to my beautiful mother today!

Learning Time

About 3 months ago I started looking online for lists of subjects that parents could teach their two-year-old. I got lucky and came across an entire 26-week teaching curriculum! And it was free! 

Since finding this website, Seth and I have added a daily "Learning Time" to our morning routine. 

The gist of it:

Mondays--   theme introduced; corresponding book(s) read, song(s) sung; these revisited each day

Tuesdays--  shape or color

Wednesdays-- letter

Thursdays-- number

Fridays-- nursery rhyme and fine-motor activity to celebrate week's theme

She suggests keeping a poster of what you do each week. When the weeks done, we've been taping each part up in the stairwell to our basement. It's awesome to see the ground we've covered. It's also a great visual reminder of the fun we've had together.

I love the structure and her ideas. Her ideas also spark my creativity. It usually ends feeling liked structured play time together. 

Some of my favorite things we've done so far:

 -   made up a "Cow Dance" to Copland's Rodeo
 -   learning shapes with play-doh (also love her idea of using cookie dough and baking it, need to try it)
 -   keeping track of numbers in his sticker counting book
 -   watercoloring drawn eyes for theme celebration
-    scavenger hunts of letters, colors and numbers throughout the house
-    playing letter games on starfall.com
-    him loving songs on youtube that follow the theme: "lighthouse song" (Brazzle Dazzle Day), "rainbow song" ("Somewhere Over the Rainbow"), "cat song" ("The Cat Came Back" by Laurie Berkner)
-   "tape the eyes on the face" version of "pin tale on the donkey".
-    listening and dancing to "jungle songs": Saint Saens' "Carnival of the Animals"
-    building our own lighthouse with Duplo blocks
-    reading new books together I might not have checked out otherwise

(said lighthouse)

It's also rewarding to be driving down the freeway and he suddenly identifies "letter E!" on the side of the trailer truck. Or to be in the grocery store and have him point out that the box full of oranges is an octagon. And it's rewarding, not just because he's actually retaining something, but because it wasn't Caillou or Sesame Street that taught it to him: it's something he learned from me. 

So consensus: fun, educational. Recommended.

P.S. She has lesson plans for older kids and several other subjects on the same website that I haven't looked into myself, but I'd bet are good.

Prepping Myself

I have about 6 weeks until this baby boy is born. With this in mind, I'm scrambling to complete the projects I've been putting off until "sometime": typing new family cookbook, creating family blog book, cleaning gross window tracks, assembling photo albums, etc.

During my photo scavenge, I came to Seth as a newborn. I had to stop, remember, appreciate; seeing him so little also has me anticipating the new life and joys coming into our family so soon. 

Hurting, Helping, Trusting

Yesterday I took Seth to a friend's house so I could go to a doctor's appointment. He shrieked in delight when he saw his friend and was thrilled to be at her house. As I pulled away I could see him out my rearview mirror: he turned around and saw his car and mommy leaving. He looked stunned. I realized then I never told him I was leaving him there. I pulled away, needing to get to my appointment on time, a little sick at heart to think he felt abandoned.

Later, as I drove back from the appointment I still felt a small pit in my stomach remembering the look on his face when I left him. "I never want to leave him again. I never want to hurt him again. I never want him to get hurt again! How can a mom save her child from all hurts??"

I suddenly felt anxious imagining future scenarios that will inevitably hurt him. I felt more uneasy as I considered, on top of that, the possible evils that could lurk into his future life. I want to shield him from all of it!


That night, I was reading a parenting article called "Helping Without Hovering". Near the end it suggested:

"Good parenting sometimes means allowing our children to fail and to deal with some heartbreaking experiences. President Thomas S. Monson reminds us that, "Life was never intended to consist of a glut of luxury, be an easy course, or filled only with success. There are those games which we lose, those races in which we finish last, and those promotions that never come. Such experiences provide an opportunity for us to show our determination and rise above disappointment."

The article added: 

"All people will face disappointments and unpleasant experiences at some point in their lives. If children can learn how to handle less-than ideal situations when they are young, they will be more resilient and resourceful as adults. Help your children to see that they can develop creative solutions for their problems instead of ignoring or avoiding them."

This made me think. My motherly instinct says, "Protect him from all hurts". But perhaps that has it own 'hurts'. Certainly Eve, Sariah and Mary wanted to protect their children.  But these mothers trusted that God's plan--letting each of us decide if we will follow Him amidst all circumstances--was right and worth whatever hurts occurred; and they had faith that there was a balm to heal. 

First Prayer

Yesterday Seth saw Daddy's scriptures out and wanted to read them. He climbed up on the couch. He opened them up. I asked him what he was reading about:

"The sci-shures."
"Are you reading about Heavenly Father and Jesus?"
"Hevly Father, Jesus."
"Are you reading, 'love one another'?"
"Love one anuder."
"Are you reading, 'Pray always'?"
"Pray alwees," followed by an incessant, "Pray, pray."
"You want to pray?"
"Uh, yes."
"Okay."

"Heavly Father, thank-thank-thank.....Mommy. Thankee Daddy. Thankee Mommy.........Amen."

Pay day!

The Real Deal

The series of miscarriages I had before Seth has messed with my mind a little: I don't always associate pregnancy with having a baby. 

So seeing these images during my recent ultrasound reminded me this pregnancy means we have a living, breathing, moving, growing person who's joining us soon!

 

And: it's a BOY!

Kira

Kira is a friend who lives across the parking lot. She has 2 little blondies and the cutest vintage style. Her oldest is a 3-year-old fashion-conscious ballerina and quite a firecracker. Though Kira claims to be on the shy side she has brilliant humor. Every time I read her blog I laugh outloud. What she wrote on Mother's Day particularly made me laugh and inspired me. Here's part of it:

Here is how she [3-year-old firecracker] chose to greet me on Mother's Day morning, "Mommy, I just love Daddy so much. I wish it was Father's Day."

---

But don't worry...I am not throwing in the towel on Mother's Day. I am just embracing a new tradition of the Mother's Day Challenge. Because afterall, Mother's Day isn't a day when the children wake-up and think "It's Mother's Day. I am going to play it cool." No, it is a day for me to prove that I do rock as a mother. That when my kid uses my new shirt as his Kleenex, I'm not going to get upset...no way, It's Mother's Day and I am a good Mom. And when my skirt is colored on, you won't see me frown because, "It's Mother's Day and I am a good Mom." And when the goldfish spill and the [Mother's Day] song isn't sung or the "I love you" said...you won't see yelling at the kids...no not on this day, because "It's Mother's Day and I am a good Mom!"

Cosmopolitan

Recently I was doing the very unenjoyable task of checking out at Wal-mart. The line, of course, was long. I handed Seth my keys and a graham cracker to keep him occupied. I occupied myself with...well, trying to ignore the eyes of a dozen half-naked women surrounding me. The emaciated ones.

One particular blond at my shoulder began whispering, "Look at you: your shabby ponytail, old jeans, mommy figure. What are you doing with your life?"

I started to feel self-conscious. What am I doing? I'm not ---

Wait a minute. "Hey lady, you're standing in an illustrated hot-air balloon advertisement in your underwear trying to seduce this shabby population. And you're being sold for $3. Don't you be trying to give me a reality check."

"Favorite Part of the Day"

We've had this tradition in my family since I was little. While we ate dinner together my dad would ask each of us, "What was your favorite part of the day?" Now at dinnertime Ben and I continue the tradition, asking the same question.

Today I knew what my favorite part of the day was in the moment. It was late afternoon, I was sitting on the piano bench. Seth sat on my lap playing with his new travel-size magnadoodle. He played with it for 50 minutes, happy to be held--something that doesn't happen everyday with a very active 13-month-old.

While we sat we listened to the Hollands episode on "Conversations". Partway through the interview they were asked about motherhood.

"I think the heart of the woman's soul is that need to nurture and care for her children. She might not realize it at the time those babies are little and its so demanding...but when you get to be my age you realize that's really where you needed to spend your time."

--Patricia Holland

With those words spoken and with Seth close and contend, I drank in that moment. I recognized the love we were receiving from each other. It became a sacred moment to me. I was with my little boy and we were happy.

Family Fun Magazine

I saw this magazine in the waiting room at the pediatrician's office. And no false advertising, it really does have so many fun ideas for families with kids 12 or younger.

I soon ordered a subscription myself. I tear out and keep the ideas I like in my "Mom Ideas" binder. I guess I could look and save them online, but I like the hard copy.

Look at the fun games, crafts, treats, and other ideas yourself here.

A few of their cute ideas:

1) Advent Forest. Put little treats under each tree and your kid(s) gets to look under one a day until Christmas.

2) Toy Organizing boxes.

3) Thanksgiving Appetizer/Craft. Something kids can make while waiting for the big meal.

(One great thing about the website if you're looking for a craft you can search by craft type: paper, nature, pipe cleaners, clay, cardboard, recyclables, etc.)

Love it!

64 degrees

A California-style October 26.

So we played in the leaves.

Little Tree

Seth's birthday is coming right up. He's almost one-year-old! Today I was looking at pictures of little him.

It reminded me of the night he was born. Somewhere between my very close contractions and his heart rate dropping again, one of the doctors gave me a shot to slow down the contractions. They dimmed the lights and let me relax for about an hour. It was beautiful. I listened to the "Birth" playlist on the iPod. Sitting in the dark I thought of Seth and that I was about to meet him.

One of the songs was "Little Tree" by Eric Whitacre. The text is by e.e. cummings. I listened to it several times. I felt very much like it was me singing to baby Seth. He was the little tree. And he was about to come from the great forest into our home. And we would welcome him by celebrating. (Never mind the "my little sister and I.")

You can listen to it here. (I only listened to the first two measures. Sorry if the recording's not the best.) I love the text.

little tree

little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and right
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid

look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you’re quite dressed
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they’ll stare!
oh but you’ll be very proud

and my little sister and I will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we’ll dance and sing
“Noel Noel”

E.E. Cummings, 1894 – 1962

Overcoming Competitive Mothering

I've found that I have a box of little prideful delights. I think most mothers who are still human have theirs too.

"I had an epidural."

"I had a natural childbirth."

"My baby is smart."

"My baby is small."

"My kid is well-behaved."

"My kid is beautiful."

There's often a second part to these thoughts that is barely audible in our minds, but very present:

"I had an epidural...unlike those insecure women trying to 'prove themselves.'"

"I had a natural childbirth...unlike other women who can't handle it."

"My baby is smart...er than _______,"

"My baby is small...er than ______,"

"My kid is well-behaved...at least compared to ______,"

"My kid is beautiful...at least more than ______."

Why do we feel compelled to compete?

How can we be truly grateful about these blessings, but not compare them to someone else's blessings? Or worse, someone else's challenges?

Usually when I hear the story of the 10 lepers I've thought, "Well, I hope I'm one that would remember to thank Him." But I think there is a more applicable way to think about that story: we likely only recognize and thank the Lord for 1 blessing for every 10 He gives us.

Who has given us these, and every, blessing? Certainly the Lord. We cannot be proud when we recognize every good thing comes from Him and not ourselves.

If anybody had reason to brag about her labor and delivery, mothering skills or perfect children it was certainly Mary. And how did she react?

First, she pondered her blessings and responsibilities in her heart.

And when she did speak of them, she most fervently and meekly testified of the Lord's great power.

And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord,

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation.

He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.

He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He hath holpen his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy;

As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever.

No wonder she was chosen. Let us do as Mary and ponder these things in our heart. Let us learn from them and cherish them. Let us pray to God in thanks for them! But let us not pride ourselves in what we have not done. Let us not think we have accomplished anything where we have only been blessed. Let us be mothers who worship God and not ourselves.

A Privilege

A moment from January 2009 came back to me today. I had just gotten the results from the many tests done to find why the recurrent miscarriages. I was told the tests came back normal. I crumbled on the couch and again in our room with every thought of the future.

Would I never lead the life I wanted to have? Would my body never give way to those prayers said, fasts observed, and blessings given? Would I ever be blessed with the joy of raising a child?

I feel everyday with Seth is a privilege. Every moment is tender for me, from pregnancy and childbirth to feeding him graham crackers and keeping him clean. I realize so many women yearn for these moments in their homes. I find it hard to express how dear motherhood is to me because I don't want to further heartache of those who cannot experience it.

But I do know one thing: this is not a right. It is, indeed, a privilege. I hope to keep all childless mothers in mind as I raise Seth and make the choices they would make. I hope to be the most kind, the most patient, the most content, the most conscientious, the most tenderhearted, the most prayerful, and the most happy mother possible. And certainly the women who are asked to wait the longest will find the most joy in motherhood of us all.

Looking into Seth's bright and trusting face I find myself overwhelmed. I cannot forget the Lord's mercy. I know this is who I am to care for at this time. And here he is in my lap waiting to be hugged and held and helped.

Seth

I can't wait any longer. I've been holding out until the right words come. But I'm no wordsmith. I don't think any words I could think of would be quite sufficient. But these photos capture much of my feeling about Seth.

He is so beautiful.

He's so pleasant.

So funny.

So inquisitive.

So expressive.

So individual.

So sweet.

As I hold him, especially as I sing him his lullabies in the rocking chair, I often catch myself.

He is mine.

He is ours.

We will always have him.

There is nothing sweeter, and no better news than this.