Saturday, October 17, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Announcing...
Baby #4, due to arrive June 12, 2009.
Just kidding.
But...we are moving to NYC. No joke. Matt's being transferred and we are trying to get our house ready to put on the market tomorrow. It is all very sudden and stressful, but I feel like it is going to be okay, which must mean that it is right because having three small children in the city is crazy. But an adventure, no?
If you know anyone that wants a darling house in Charlotte, NC, let us know. I'll throw in my thriving bell pepper plants and some lightening bugs at no extra cost.
Just kidding.
But...we are moving to NYC. No joke. Matt's being transferred and we are trying to get our house ready to put on the market tomorrow. It is all very sudden and stressful, but I feel like it is going to be okay, which must mean that it is right because having three small children in the city is crazy. But an adventure, no?
If you know anyone that wants a darling house in Charlotte, NC, let us know. I'll throw in my thriving bell pepper plants and some lightening bugs at no extra cost.
Friday, September 18, 2009
A Birth Story
So...
Last Thursday I woke up feeling like superwoman, which is pretty amazing because Madeline had what I was sure was the swine flu (but wasn't) on Tuesday night and I was up all night with her heaving and my worrying that everyone was going to get sick and we were going to bring home a brand new baby and expose him or her to the bubonic plague (or something similiar). So, Wednesday the 9th would have been a bad day to have a baby because I felt like hud, but Thursday dawned bright and welcoming. The perfect day to have a baby.
Except that no matter how much willpower I put into it, I could not get the contractions in my body to cooperate. I was definitely having them, but they weren't regular. And they didn't hurt enough.
My friend Sabrina came over to offer moral support and to be there in case I went into labor. So while our children napped, I left Sabrina at my house and went for a walk. Up lots of hills. For a long time. And it worked. My contractions were coming every 3 minutes by the time I was done walking. Matt rushed home from work to take me to the hospital. Here is a picture of me on my way to the hospital, ready to conquer the world:
What should have been apparent to me, but wasn't, is that if I was still smiling when I went to the hospital, it was clearly not time to go to the hospital, independent of how regular my contraction were and weren't. I got to the triage and they kept me there for three hours, determining whether or not I was in strong enough labor to stay. I was so defeated. My dream had been to waltz into the hospital and give birth twenty minutes later. We almost went home, but didn't because I am really into the health care debate and I was sure that they would charge my insurance twice if I left and came back, so we opted to be admitted into a room. And almost immediately after that happened, the real labor began.
And it hurt, but I was still doing pretty good, because I had woken up that morning with all the stars aligned in my favor and I was going to be strong, dang't.
Here is me on the bouncy ball, still smiling:
But then, it got really bad. And by the time I realized that I was absolutely crazy for opting for a natural birth, it was too late. I was shocked and amazed at the intensity of the pain. You amazing women that promote natural childbirth, I don't know whether to sing your praises more or be mad at you for that experience. Nor do I know what I will do next child around. I will probably jump on the natural birth bandwagon once I forget what it actually feels like...
But it was ALL worth it because we got this on 9/11/09 at 12:38 a.m. Introducing Spencer Fielding McConkie, our third.
And we are so grateful that Matthew has a brother, because there is far too much of this at our house:
Last Thursday I woke up feeling like superwoman, which is pretty amazing because Madeline had what I was sure was the swine flu (but wasn't) on Tuesday night and I was up all night with her heaving and my worrying that everyone was going to get sick and we were going to bring home a brand new baby and expose him or her to the bubonic plague (or something similiar). So, Wednesday the 9th would have been a bad day to have a baby because I felt like hud, but Thursday dawned bright and welcoming. The perfect day to have a baby.
Except that no matter how much willpower I put into it, I could not get the contractions in my body to cooperate. I was definitely having them, but they weren't regular. And they didn't hurt enough.
My friend Sabrina came over to offer moral support and to be there in case I went into labor. So while our children napped, I left Sabrina at my house and went for a walk. Up lots of hills. For a long time. And it worked. My contractions were coming every 3 minutes by the time I was done walking. Matt rushed home from work to take me to the hospital. Here is a picture of me on my way to the hospital, ready to conquer the world:
What should have been apparent to me, but wasn't, is that if I was still smiling when I went to the hospital, it was clearly not time to go to the hospital, independent of how regular my contraction were and weren't. I got to the triage and they kept me there for three hours, determining whether or not I was in strong enough labor to stay. I was so defeated. My dream had been to waltz into the hospital and give birth twenty minutes later. We almost went home, but didn't because I am really into the health care debate and I was sure that they would charge my insurance twice if I left and came back, so we opted to be admitted into a room. And almost immediately after that happened, the real labor began.
And it hurt, but I was still doing pretty good, because I had woken up that morning with all the stars aligned in my favor and I was going to be strong, dang't.
Here is me on the bouncy ball, still smiling:
But then, it got really bad. And by the time I realized that I was absolutely crazy for opting for a natural birth, it was too late. I was shocked and amazed at the intensity of the pain. You amazing women that promote natural childbirth, I don't know whether to sing your praises more or be mad at you for that experience. Nor do I know what I will do next child around. I will probably jump on the natural birth bandwagon once I forget what it actually feels like...
But it was ALL worth it because we got this on 9/11/09 at 12:38 a.m. Introducing Spencer Fielding McConkie, our third.
And we are so grateful that Matthew has a brother, because there is far too much of this at our house:
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Still fat...
and getting slightly unhappier. Come baby, come baby, baby come come.
Today would be a good day, no? 9/9/09? I think that I could remember that.
Today would be a good day, no? 9/9/09? I think that I could remember that.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Fat and Happy
This last Saturday we went and played in a river all day. The kids stacked rocks, we ate sandwiches and pickles on the shore, Matt snorkled a bit. It was heaven. Our friends, the Siggs, took this picture and it is the best (i.e. only) good belly shot I have to date.
Only three weeks left 'til the due date and we still don't know what it is.
I'll send a prize to the person who guesses the correct gender and is closest to the actual delivery date and time.
Friday, July 24, 2009
The best...
Way to spend 20 cents:24 pack of Crayola crayons (pronounced "cren" because I'm from Utah). I am incredulous that they can make them so cheap.
Thing I've eaten this week: Roasted tomato soup. So good. Take a roasting pan full of tomatoes from your garden (a couple of pounds or so), cover in butter, fresh ground pepper and kosher salt and roast them with a medium onion and a few garlic cloves at 475 for about 15 minutes. Then add some basil leaves and a cup or so of sun-dried tomatoes in oil (the kind you buy at Costco). Roast another 10 minutes. Then pour the whole concoction in a pan, cover with plastic wrap and let it sit there awhile. Then add a cup or two of chicken broth, some cream if you have it and red pepper flakes until it has just the right amount of kick, then blend and simmer until it sings. Serve hot with chunks of fresh mozzarella (or feta) and shredded fresh basil.
Way to get the neighbors talking:Host a last-minute Pioneer Day Party and invite kids over to pull taffy, make stick cabins, etc. Dress them up (check out Matthew in the blue bonnet) and take them on a long walk around the neighborhood. Realize half way through the walk that you bear a striking resemblance to a group of fundamentalists out for a stroll....
Thing I've eaten this week: Roasted tomato soup. So good. Take a roasting pan full of tomatoes from your garden (a couple of pounds or so), cover in butter, fresh ground pepper and kosher salt and roast them with a medium onion and a few garlic cloves at 475 for about 15 minutes. Then add some basil leaves and a cup or so of sun-dried tomatoes in oil (the kind you buy at Costco). Roast another 10 minutes. Then pour the whole concoction in a pan, cover with plastic wrap and let it sit there awhile. Then add a cup or two of chicken broth, some cream if you have it and red pepper flakes until it has just the right amount of kick, then blend and simmer until it sings. Serve hot with chunks of fresh mozzarella (or feta) and shredded fresh basil.
Way to get the neighbors talking:Host a last-minute Pioneer Day Party and invite kids over to pull taffy, make stick cabins, etc. Dress them up (check out Matthew in the blue bonnet) and take them on a long walk around the neighborhood. Realize half way through the walk that you bear a striking resemblance to a group of fundamentalists out for a stroll....
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