daily details

 

Ian's Pappaw and Mammaw on their Wedding Day

Proper sweater weather and the need for socks and boots 

Watching elaborate games of blocks and train tracks, or pillows and stuffed animals, or whatever else, unfold between my kids

Impromptu dance parties before bedtime

A brisk walk downtown for fresh danish on a Saturday morning

The peace of a new arrangement of furniture

Warm breakfast that you didn't have to make yourself

A new notebook

The baby stage of excited arms and legs 

Date night

The feeling of a enough sleep and an excitement to tackle your tasks

Halloween decorations in shops and around the neighborhood

Kentucky roads with acres of horse country that somehow never gets old 

Sharing a favorite thing with someone you know will appreciate it the way you do

Music that is just right for your mood and drive

Checking on my children at night and readjusting them to optimal comfort

The beginning of the best time of year 

joanna says

 Pappy & Joanna

I should mention... Joanna doesn't pronounce "R's" so she's replaced it with a "Y."  Which makes for adorable isms.



bee-bop = makeup

waddy =  water

boppy = pacifier

otay? = are you okay?

uni-coin= unicorn

stoym troopy= storm trooper


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Songs:
Bee-ko Bee-ko Wittle Sty =  "Twinkle-twinkle little star"

I DOh DAY  I YUVV ITT.  Song lyrics "I don't care!  I love it!"

Lately she asks "What is it?" every time a song plays in the car.  I'll tell her the artist, then the song name.. and then she'll say "Can I see?" to which I hold up a picture of the album cover on my phone. 

Other songs she sings/loves:  "How Far I'll Go," by Moana.  "Thunder," by Imagine Dragons ... which I imagine she loves because they sing "Thund-ah!" with no 'r' just like her.  "I am A Child of God," and "Baa Baa Black Sheep."

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"Mom wook at that penguin!"  she said while pointing to a crow on a phone line.

When my sister Micaela came to help with Oslo after he was born, she and Joanna bonded.  One morning I joined Mica in the living room while Joanna was busy in the kitchen.  She began to call out "Mom!  Mom!" so I responded and asked what she needed.  She paused.  Walked over  to the kitchen doorway where she could see me and said "I'm talkeen about MEE-KAH."

When we were in the pool, Joanna asked me to be her horse.  Once she was on my back and ready she said "Wet's do diss."

She walked over to me while we were playing in the park where I had been snacking on some Pirate Booty puffs with its powdery cheese coating.  "Mom, wook at you're hands.  You got piwate dooty on yoursewf."

Often times when we are leaving the house she'll say "Don't weave!"  We quote this a lot.

She calls Oslo her "baby buddy."  Baby buddy!  Ugh I love it.

A couple times now, when she's feeling lovey, she'll wrap her arms around my neck and say "Mom.  You're my bess frenn."

Joanna has a hard time staying put during bedtime.  I usually know she'll actually stay when she yells out "Mom!  I'm in my bed!" and even more reassuring: "I'll see you tomowwow!"

Joanna does not like the sound of meals.  She only likes the sound of a snack.  "I don't want wunch!  I wann snack!"  "I don't want dinns! (or dinnay)  I wann snack!"

 The last couple weeks she's been playing 'mommy.'  She calls everyone honey, especially me and get's upset if she detects my behavior as anything more than docile child.

Ian calls Joanna "so pretty" from time to time and I'll tease him/ask him to make sure he's telling her more than that so that that's not her only identifier.  The other day he said he told her how smart she was and she said "I'm not smawt.  I'm pwetty."  Dang it.

"Wet's go get 'im!" she'll shout as she leads the way to wrestling with dad
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I feel like I need to do a separate post about this lady.  She's so fierce.  She's obstinate and independent to a maddening degree-- and yet I am so proud.  I forget she's still only two years old.  She's also sweet and thoughtful and will never get a snack only for herself.  She asks to get one for Peter as well every time.  She loves her books and her babies.  She loves to dress up like a princess and a ballerina to dance.  Or to do anything dressed as a princess.

We love our girl.

Birth Story III

I was ready for this baby.  I had had false contractions for the two weeks prior to his birth, so even though my real contractions started the morning of my 39th week of pregnancy-- it felt like it was past due.  I wasn't quite sure what to expect with this labor, as my first two were vastly different experiences.  This one ended up being a perfect hybrid of the two.

I labored naturally longer in the beginning than I had with Joanna's birth because of some miscommunication with the staff at the hospital that day.  It seemed to take forever to get the epidural-- I was already at 6 centimeters dilated!  This may not seem significant to some, but it takes me about 9-11 hours to get that far.  I had been at the hospital dealing with some pretty significant contractions by the time the epidural was in.  I had a few hours of relaxed comfort, when the nurse came in and said the baby's heart rate was dropping a little at the end of each contraction-- and suggested I move positions.  I switched to my other side and not long after my heart rate shot up.  I didn't notice anything significant, except that the machine I was hooked up to started to beep.  My nurse and doctors came in to see what it was about when suddenly my heart rate dropped significantly along with my blood pressure.  Simultaneously, I could feel myself losing consciousness.  I felt oddly calm as the doctors rushed around me and talked at me to stay awake and helped me to move positions while administering oxygen.  It was a very scary few minutes for everyone.  Mostly scary for Ian, I'm afraid.  I had a strong sense of peace and knew that I was okay-- but I couldn't communicate that with Ian and I hated that he had to watch, helpless, from the sidelines.  It makes me want to choke up thinking about it.  The good news is that baby and I were okay.  We are still not sure what happened exactly but the doctors believed it may have been linked to the epidural and thus shut it off.  

This meant that by the time I needed to push, all help from the epidural had worn off.  I was scared.

 Peter's birth was ultimately traumatic for me.  By the time I started pushing with him after laboring naturally for over sixteen hours,  I was so spent and motivated for it to be over that I went to a kind of crazy place.  I made a quick, emotional decision to stop trusting my doula who I'd felt wasn't sensitive to the trauma I was experiencing.  It seemed as though she was shaming me against the idea of medical intervention-- wanting me to go natural for her own personal reasons.  The issue with this is that because she'd lost my trust, I didn't feel safe listening to her about anything.  And as doula's are not technically medical professionals-- they cannot push back if you disagree with something.  I decided to push aided by gravity and squatted into it-- despite the suggestions of my doula.  This made it very difficult for the doctors to direct me in pushing because by the time Peter crowned (which was still a good 45 minutes later) --the gravity made it impossible for me to stop him coming out completely-- very quickly, causing me to tear significantly.  

I share this only because my birth with Oslo ended up healing a lot of qualms I had with Peter's birth.  First of all, it was the same delivery room.  Memories flooded back as I walked into that unique corner room of UK hospital.  I prepared myself mentally for my birth to be something unexpected, which it ended up being.  The other significant thing is that this time around I humbly put my full trust in the doctors surrounding me, who all happened to be women.  I expressed my fear as the familiar pains of pushing settled on me-- and instead of background suggestions, I listened intently to stern direction from my doctor and her team.  I had encouragement, direction and strong, experienced women literally moving my body into an ideal position for pushing.  It was what I was missing with Peter's birth.  In my labor with Peter I ventured out on my own, feeling spent and unsafe with the team around me.  Ian was my only support and saving grace in that situation-- but he was as clueless about giving birth as I was.  I needed someone to command the situation, gather me up, and help me through it.  I had that with Oslo's birth.  I expressed my fear and they buoyed me up, gave me stern direction and within fifteen minutes of active pushing-- Oslo was born.

I'm so grateful for these life changing experiences that have shaped my heart and opened me up to those around me.  I'm so grateful to have experienced each of my children's births and the significance that has been in my life.  I'm so happy to be a mom.  It has been my greatest blessing and my greatest challenge-- one that I revel in tackling for the rest of my life.

And then there was Oslo James.

 8 lbs, 13 oz

21 1/2 inches long

Perfect in every sense of the word.

We could not be happier to be a family of five. 

Photos by Marissa Lea Photagraphy

 

springtime

 

 

Our third child will be joining us soon.  We are due the end of this month, about May 28th... though I'm secretly hoping he makes his debut sooner.  This pregnancy has been a little more trying than my other two, which makes me all the more ready to hold my little one in my arms and share him with the rest of my family.  He's very active.  He responds to music and the sounds of Peter and Joanna playing, especially it seems when they're wrestling with their dad.  I think he's ready to get right in there.  Joanna has been especially mommy-hungry which I'm taking as a sign that baby really is on His way.  Her days as the youngest are numbered. 

I'm excited to see the dynamic shift to accommodate this new soul.  I have felt the need for it, recognizing a missing element to our family and I think this boy will fulfill it.  I'm ready.  And tenderly grateful to be a mom to my kids. 

florida

 

 

  We took a little trip to Destin, Florida a couple weeks ago.  Just thinking about those few days is sending a wave of relaxation through me all this time later.  We fell into an easy routine:

Eat breakfast.
Get dressed for the beach.

Spend the afternoon under our umbrella with "beach chairs" dug out of sand (convenient for my big pregnant belly.. allowing me to lay on my stomach!  So nice)

Finish late afternoon at the hotel pool

Showers and naps while winding down

Dinner.  Sometimes ice cream.

Bedtime.  

Our consistent and relaxing routine filled me with gratitude and sent me to reflection.  

Thank you continental breakfast.    Thank you fine white sand that was a dream to walk in barefoot.  Thank you beach sand that was the perfect texture to shape custom recliners out of.  Thank you turquoise water and the calm waves you provided our last day.  Thank you various fellow beach goers that embraced my sons' outgoing friendliness-- allowing him to play with their toys, digging holes with him and even allowing him to sit in their enormous unicorn float.  Thank you Joanna for "burying" mom-- your little hands dropping cool sand on my hot back was as good as a massage.  Thank you swim diapers and puddle jumpers!  Thank you to all the ancient animals that built the myriad of shells we came across, inspiring excitement and awe.  Thank you kind hotel staff that upgraded us to a room with a bunk-bed for free.  The view from that new balcony was rejuvenating.  Thank you heated hotel pool that kept us warm in the not-quite summer weather we were expecting as the evening approached.  Thank you road trip that always provides the right amount of time for Ian and I to properly catch up and enjoy each other.  Thank you Melissa & Doug for your water wow books, also Apple for the iPad.  You made our drive manageable for our kids as well. 

And thank you baby number three for inspiring this much needed trip. 

peter says

 Photo by his aunt Holly on iPhone

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"These beans are bothering me."

"What do you mean?"

"They smell like stinky socks."

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"I can't find my toothbrush!  I think a bandint just tooken it!"

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Ian:  "Quiet back there!"
Peter:  "I'm not a backpack!"

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While getting himself some ham, Peter realized that Joanna was crying in her room and ran off with ham in hand.  When he came back in he explained "I just gave Joanna ham 'cause she was sad."

I commended him for being such a thoughtful big brother and how much I appreciate it.  He responded with

"It's just what I do."

He has said this phrase in response to my compliments a lot since

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"Dad?  You're the best dad in Lexington."

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"Look!  Humans by the river!"  An observation while driving when he saw a group of people fishing

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Ian likes to tell these fantastical victory stories from time to time when we're in the car.  After one such story Peter responded with "What now didja DA-FEAT??" 

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During breakfast, Peter smiled suddenly, came over to me and whispered "Villager Zombies."

(he is super into Mine Craft right now...)

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Observing me laying in the sand at the beach-- "Why is mom dead?"

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Peter has started to tell fantastical stories too.  I need to record him one of these days because they are pretty epic and involved.  I mention it here because he always transitions a plot point with a loud and intense "And DEN..." (then)  It's so cute.  

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Occasionally he'll sound just like a teenager.  Joanna and I were having a very repetitive and frustrating argument.  She wanted chocolate milk, but I told her not until she'd eaten more of her dinner.  Back and forth, back and forth.  Peter finally sighs and goes "Ugh, mom you've said that a million times."

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Honestly, I need to keep up with this kid.  I should just follow him around with a tape recorder.  I'm lucky I caught the above sayings, but they're just a fraction of the things I am enjoying him say lately.  I am loving this age as Peter conceptualizes and makes sense of his own world.  He's fascinated by how things are spelled and the makes and models of cars right now for example.  

We love our Peter

daily details

source

Patches of moonlight on your floor from the Super Moon lighting up the night

Worn in sweatshirts and thick socks on a cold day

Ripe strawberries and raspberries-- both sweet & tangy

Being unable to put a book down, even when it sacrifices sleep

Seeing the transition of my kids actually playing and laughing together, their ages finally bridging the baby gap

 Getting a house project underway

Anticipating packages in the mail 

Reading old journals and recognizing growth

A stack of promising books from the library 

Pausing to color with my demanding and snugly two-year-old

Belly laughs between old friends over a silly idea

Daydreaming about future dwellings and plans

The difference in sound and feel of the keys of a grand piano

Knowing spring will be here before we know it

 

birthday girl

We had a little party for our girl!  Nothing huge, just with our local family clan.  But it still felt special and fun.  I tried my hand at decorating a cake with better tools and I think it turned out okay!  It makes me excited for the next cake.  We danced, we snacked, we sang to Joanna before she blew out the candles.  Surprising to us, she seem to cower in the spotlight-- and was so sheepish that she almost didn't blow out her candles.  The girl asks to blow out candles almost every day!  I think the attention was too much for her.  I could totally relate.  After rounds of cake and ice cream, Joanna opened thoughtful gifts from Ian's family that she's really attached to.  The final gift was blush and a brush from her aunt Holly--pictured above.  We had a pinãta filled with the gender-revealing color candy of our baby that we tried to open safely without swinging any heavy articles.  We felt defeated by the task until we asked James to take over-- who smashed it open on the ground with renown success-- (revelation here to come later).  It was a comfortable and happy celebration.

We are so grateful for our Joanna girl.  And we can't believe she's two! 

joanna

The other morning I had turned the stove on, readying the pan for some fried eggs.  Peter had pulled up a chair to the side, as usual, hoping to crack some himself. We've been practicing this for a while.  However almost as soon as he had pulled up the chair he left, distracted by something else.  I left the room for a couple minutes to ask Ian something and when I came back Joanna was up on the chair with an eggshell in her hand, held out to me.  I thought she might have picked up an old shell from the carton but then I realized her hands were glistening with egg.  Then I saw the fried egg she had cracked into the pan.  Completely shell free.

Besides feeling some relief that she hadn't burnt herself I was pretty taken aback at her display of self-reliance.  She was so proud of herself.  Do you see that smug face in the last photo? 

This is our Joanna.  I've been thinking a lot about her current stage because she'll be two the end of this week.  She's pretty amazing.  Already fiercely independent.  "I wann ty!" she'll exclaim (I want to try!)  when buckling her seat belt.  Getting her dressed.  Putting on her shoes.  Brushing her teeth.  She wants to tackle it herself.  Typically on the playground, she'll find the most challenging thing to conquer and she'll do it again and again until she feels confident.  It makes her parents stomach drop a bit as we try to buffer her actions but we're also very impressed with her gumption.

She is the sweetest thing.  And she is the meanest thing.  She'll hold my face and snuggle my head.  She'll explain "I yuhh you!" (I love you) spontaneously and thank me after I've changed her diaper.  She'll thank me after almost everything I do for her.  She'll ask for hugs as anyone is leaving the house-- especially daddy.  But the girl can scream like no one else when she's mad.  Or when she wants something.  She says "No!" probably more than anything else in the day-- even if it's just daddy saying her name.  She'll bate her big brother by shutting the door of his room (which he hates) and she'll run away until he comes out to get mad and she'll do it again.  This girl has a wide range of emotions and many ways to express it-- and we love it.  She's a handful at times but adds so much to our lives that we'll take that handful any day. 

She loves to read.  She spends more time turning pages and speaking gibberish as she goes through book after book more than anything else.  She loves Moana and Mulan.  She loves to sing and to color.  She's got a lot of natural rhythm and I love to watch her move differently to each genre of music.  The girl loves her shoes and clothes and especially mommy's makeup.  We are amazed at how much she already knows and how much she is already talking.

We love you Juju.  We're so glad you're in our family. 

snow day

Turns out the best sled we've ever experienced was a large, flat, cardboard box.

daily details

A photo I took in Rexburg a million lives ago

My kids spontaneously hugging and exchanging enthusiastic I love yous 

Seeing bunny tracks in the snow from my kitchen window

My son climbing in bed with me first thing in the morning to snuggle

Microwave mug cakes while catching up on Fixer Upper with my fella

How feeling small baby kicks never gets old.  Not even for a second.

Hearing geese honking in the distance and seeing them in their V formations
 
Waking up on purpose to a quiet house, the day ripe with possibility

Fuzzy throw blankets

Laughing at a funny old movie quote

Reading an inspiring quote that you can't seem to shake for days

Enthusiastic lists and plans for the new year

Sporadic dance parties

Finding a really good recipe for shepherds pie

That moment in your day when you realize how incredible your people are

ireland

Though I missed a lot of potentially good posts last year, I still want to record my experience in Ireland.  It was a very real dream.  And relatively fresh.

I've deliberated on how to do this.  I could do just one post.  It would be forever long with hundreds of photos.  More like an album than a post, really.  But now that I'm considering it, I think I'm going to break it up.  Focus on bits at a time.  Let it be random, even.  I want to savor this one.  And I've been so overwhelmed at the thought of posting it all at once that I think I'll be more likely to record it this way.

It all started when Ian and his brothers went to Iceland in 2016.  So many people called and messaged me asking why he was going to this place they had all dreamed of going.  For fun, I responded.  A brother's trip.  This made everyone all the more crazy.  It wasn't for work or anything.  It was just an opportunity taken.  A very real adventure occurred. 

One of these calls was my oldest sister Micaela.  She told me one of her inspirations for learning to take better photos was a dream of Iceland.  Somehow the conversation turned to where I had always dreamed of going: Ireland.  It's been this thing since I was a kid.  There's something about those green cliffs dotted with sheep and penny walls-- tucked up against a cold shore.  I've gravitated toward films about Ireland and in Ireland my whole life.  Falling in love with their cadence of speech and ability to tell stories.  Something about those thick white-washed cottages and thatched roofs.  A connection to the sea.  Something magic I was sure to find if I ever went.

Mica had been to Ireland.  She and her husband's family had done a European cruise where they hit major points of Ireland along with the more northern countries that trip.  She recalled these incredible villages in the southern tip of Ireland and had felt cheated that they'd spent only a few hours in each place.  She had wanted to go back.  And then it started.  Let's go! she said.  We planned for the end of the school year, the following year-- May 2017.  "This is happening," she said.

And so it was that we were at the Cliffs of Moher around nine months later.

The Cliffs of Moher.  More commonly recognized as the Cliffs of Insanity from The Princess Bride.  This was our first real destination, and it was the perfect beginning.  In the lot they had a car show of old trucks and I had to take photos.  I've never been so enamored by a truck before.  They looked like beautiful toys to me!  Though there were many people, of many nationalities, gathered along those cliffs-- as Mica and I would nestle in a spot to take it in-- it was easy to feel like we were the only ones for miles.  We spent hours that way.  Walking along.  Finding a spot to sit along the edge.  Sitting, breathing, being.  Sometimes together, sometimes alone.  Just thinking about the wind, the smell, and the sound of crashing dark blue waves and birds nesting and chirping in those slate cliffs is making me feel rejuvenated almost a year later.

After this we made our way to our first Air-Bnb-- feeling fairly exhausted from our long flight and hours on the cliffs.  At Miltown Malbay we stopped for some dinner before settling in.  The place we chose had a cheesy name.   Something like "Tasty Restaurant" or something equally generic-- but the chalkboard menu out front sounded promising and we went.  I'm not one to document my food generally, however I'm so glad I took photos of the food we ate while in this magnificent country.  Everything was so delicious.   My meal this night was a light fish in a creamy dill sauce with a side of veggies and mash.  It was warm and comforting after our long day.  For dessert we shared a slice of Ferrero Rocher cheesecake.  It was even better than it sounds.