Fall 2012 photo dump

September 2012
Robyn was blessed and we went to the Great Lakes Science Center, both over Labor Day weekend.  We visited the Greater Cleveland Aquarium a few times, including on International Talk Like A Pirate Day.  Benjamin even came with us once.  Julie started preschool, the "real" kind, not the mom-run kind.  Julie also did soccer, which entailed sitting and crying on my or Ben's laps for an hour because other kids didn't let her get the ball.

Robyn in her blessing dress.

Olive fingers!

Robyn is not impressed.

Sweet girl, waiting for a checkup with the doctor.

Daddy came with us to the GCA.

Jellyfish!!

Another visit to the GCA a few days later for pirate day.

First day of soccer

Doctor Julie.

Ben gave me these pearl earrings as a wedding gift.  My earlobes got infected about six weeks after we got married, and I never had a chance to wear them, until almost seven years later.  I feel a little giddy and twitterpated when I do get to wear them

October 2012
Robyn started to become more fun.  She became interactive, deliberately comical, and much more responsive than ever before.  We had a Halloween party at church, with a costume parade that Julie participated in.  Halloween was also delayed a few days because of a huge snowstorm.  (The cities around here have specific trick-or-treating hours, so they all rescheduled.)

Mountain girl

Bathtime fun

Twinners (we planned this picture back in July, but then we were each out of town for different reasons for almost two months before we were able to do it!)

I did a really deep de-cluttering in the basement and a couple other areas in the house.  Every time I found a hair decoration, I put it in my own hair.

More bathtime fun!  (Glowstick bracelets + turn out the lights!)

Dinner at a local pizza place for a fundraiser for Julie's school.

Costume parade

What the girls wore on Halloween

November 2012
Julie moved up to a booster seat in preparation for Robyn to graduate out of her infant carrier.  Election day.  Ben wore a tuxedo for an event that only required jeans (he did it on purpose).  We went to a bar mitzvah celebration for one of Ben's scouts.  We got to eat, chat, bowl, and play whirlyball in the court that wasn't being used.  Robyn turned one and we did absolutely nothing to celebrate.  We skipped stake conference one Sunday and went for a family hike instead.  I went out to dinner with some girlfriends to celebrate one of their birthdays only to find out that it was also for my birthday.  Julie got her very first LEGOs and immediately fell in love with them (as did Benjamin).  We celebrated Thanksgiving with some friends.  We got our first snow.  We had a quick overnight visit from Grammy and my sister (Auntie Candice).  Probably most exciting was that we got a piano!!

Not a very helpful picture, but Robyn was a skunk for Halloween.

The Halloween haul.

Election day -- patriotic colors!

Julie took a nap in the chair, and Robyn was rocking her.

Whirlyball

Bowling

Robyn, on her birthday, wearing the dress I wore when I was blessed as a baby.

Thanksgiving food, including a lemon cheesecake that I made!!

Silliness!

Pruny feet

Just chillin'

Sistersbutnottwins

Our piano!!!

Tender mercies

"But behold, I...will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith..." (1 Nephi 1:20)

I have been the beneficiary of this promise today.

Over the last couple of weeks, I've had one friend who had a miscarriage and another who is anxiously awaiting the birth of her fourth child. Both have had a hard time with their particular trials. The first was understandably depressed for a time, and missing her mom. She had told me that she needed a hug in a bad way. That evening I had my regular Tuesday night Young Women activity. My sister was in town visiting, so I didn't have to worry about rushing to pick Julie up from the babysitter afterward, and I had a feeling that I should go visit this friend on my way home. It was a small gesture and required hardly any effort on my part, but it made a big difference to my friend that I stopped by, unplanned, solely for the sake of giving her a hug. We talked for a few minutes and then I headed home.

The second friend has had a really rough pregnancy and is now overdue. She's been in labor -- pretty uncomfortably so -- for a couple of weeks, and her doctor won't do anything for her (other than be a ginormous jerk). Basically she's miserable right now. A week and a half ago I made some amazing brownies, that I'd been thinking about. Julie didn't like them (they weren't standard fare), and they're too rich for Ben and I to eat a whole pan of by ourselves. In trying to figure out how to get rid of some of them, this friend popped into my head. At 8:00 at night I called her to see if I could come over to bring her some. I did, and we ended up chatting for about an hour an a half, which was fun for me, and apparently needed for her. It started because I just wanted to unload some brownies.

I don't mean to sound like I'm totally awesome for doing either of these things, but it's been an interesting experience for me. In both cases, I felt definitely prompted to help these friends. In neither case did it cost me a lot of effort or inconvenience. In both cases I felt like I was helping these friends in small ways, yet I knew that they were significant to them. I've been reminded through these experiences of giving small service that our Heavenly Father is mindful of us -- each of us. What is important to us is important to Him. Our sorrows are His, and if He can ease those through another person, He often does. Usually a reminder of this comes when I myself am the recipient of services, not the giver.

Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Robyn has reached an age where she likes to be held (or paid direct attention to) about 12 hours a day (she's asleep the other 12). It's exhausting. Yesterday she was "off" for a different reason (which reason I don't know). She didn't eat very well. She took only two naps, each of which were less than 30 minutes long. She wouldn't stop crying. By 1:45, I was so done with my day. I told Ben as much, though he was at work still. He said he'd be home as quickly as he could be. By 4:45 I was counting down the minutes until he would be. By 5:00, I had to put Robyn down in her bouncy chair, strap her in, and walk away. She wouldn't stop crying, and I was honestly afraid I might shake her. (I hesitate to write that "out loud" but I know I'm not the only one, and I want others to know they're not alone.) Intending to take a shower, I went down to the laundry room to get some clean clothes to put on afterward. Instead I sank down on the floor in front of the washing machine and just sobbed. I stayed there for awhile; the laundry room is the only place in the house where I couldn't hear Robyn's cries still. I wanted my mommy.

Julie heard me and came to see what was wrong. Feeling bad about leaving Robyn alone (aside from this stage she's in, she's naturally very social and doesn't like to be left alone at all), I asked her to go upstairs and stay with her sister. I continued to cry for 10-15 minutes. I finally pulled myself together a little bit and went back upstairs, where I found Julie sitting on the floor, bouncing Robyn in the chair, and singing to her. Robyn had stopped crying. I was so touched by the scene that tears sprang to my eyes again. I picked Robyn up and began to pace with her. Not two minutes later, Ben pulled in the driveway and relieved me. I got my shower, during which time he made dinner and tended to both girls. I needed to make a quick grocery run that night to pick a few things up for teaching school today, so I took Julie with me and got some ice cream as well.

Late last night, I read a blog post that greatly comforted me. I felt like the timing of the article was precise to when I needed it most, though it may also have been coincidence.

This morning, I woke up to find that Ben had gotten me a panini press for Valentine's Day. I had wanted one for Christmas, but it wasn't in the cards this year. We usually don't do anything more than heart-shaped pizzas for Valentine's Day, so this was a big surprise. He got a donut-maker for Julie (and Robyn), which will be fun. He also wrote a mushy and sentimental note with the gifts.

A friend sent me a nerdy and punny Valentine's Day e-card, which was thoughtful.

An hour or so ago, the doorbell rang. We ordered something online last week, so I figured it was that package. Imagine my surprise when I found a box full of beautiful tulips from my dad.

Our individual importance has been on my mind the last couple of weeks, because I have been a part of making sure others know it. Today I have been blessed by others doing the same thing for me when I have needed the comfort and personal reminder. I'm a lucky girl.

Before & After

The night before I went to the hospital, and one week old.

Introducing...

Robyn Ruth Nutter was born at 7:56am on Friday, November 18th. She was 8 pounds, 8 ounces, and 21 14 inches long. (For those keeping track, that means more than three pounds heaver than Julie, and 3.5 inches longer.) She and I are both doing well. There really is no birth story, as the surgery was completely uneventful, just the way we'd hoped and expected. We anticipate being able to go home on Monday.

Thoughts on a second pregnancy

I originally wrote this back on August 16. I saved it in my drafts, vacillating on whether or not to actually publish it. My emotions have tempered somewhat since the initial writing (perhaps due in part to the catharsis of actually writing it out), and I'm feeling better in general, but I'll save that for another entry sometime in the next few weeks. In the end I decided to go ahead and publish this because I really feel strongly that there needs to be more dialogue on the subject, and by not sharing, I'm contributing to the very isolation that I've felt.

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I hesitate to write this entry. For one thing, it's not news or updates, like usual, but rather some very personal thoughts and emotions. Second, I know that I might come across as ungrateful and/or cold-hearted, thought I'm not. There's another reason, but it won't make sense until after I share my thoughts.

For so long, Ben and I joked that we could never have another child. Julie was so easy-going and low-maintenance, that any other experience would only be downhill from her. However, we knew that our family wasn't complete with just one child. Neither of us have had that feeling of "there's one more waiting," but we weren't comfortable stopping at one.

Now I'm pregnant with my second. This pregnancy was planned, and was in no way an accident, even in the timing. I'm having a girl. When people find out, they ask if I'm excited. My answer is usually non-committal. Then they ask if I'd wanted a boy. Not necessarily.

At first I thought I just wasn't as excited about this baby as I was about my first, because the first is so magical -- all the new experiences and emotions. The second is, well, a repeat. Each pregnancy and each baby are different, but the 40-week process is -- basically -- the same each time. Just like with my first pregnancy, I haven't experienced morning sickness or nausea. My energy is lower than usual, I have some lower back pain, and sleep is becoming more burdensome. I do have to pee more this pregnancy than with my first.

But really, that's about all I have to complain about with my pregnancies. I consider myself blessed. Ben jokes that I don't really experience pregnancy, at least not traditionally. Julie was born via C-section, and I'll be having another C-section with Robyn, so I don't even experience traditional birth.

Some women feel a bond with their babies as soon as they get a positive test. Others it's a few weeks in. With my first pregnancy, I had an anatomy ultrasound at 20 weeks. Three days later, I felt the first kicking movements. The following week I finally started needing to wear maternity clothes, but only barely. Right around then is when it started to feel "real" to me, and I began to connect. I had an actual name by which I could refer to the baby (which less and less felt simply like a fetus), and I could feel her alive inside me.

So at first I just thought that this pregnancy seemed less magical, by mere virtue of its not being the first. I found out at 19 weeks that I'm having a girl. I started wearing maternity clothes around 14 weeks. About a week after that, I felt the first stirrings and contractions. Then I started to feel lots of baby movement, and instead of being excited as before, and wishing Ben could feel it, I find myself annoyed. She'll kick and move hard for 10-15 minutes at a time, then calm down for an hour. Each time she gets going, I get irritated. I'm glad that she's healthy and thriving, but the sensations are just nuisance-like to me.

I figured that once things started to sink in a little more (it's a girl...she's healthy...etc.), that I'd connect more and become more excited, like last time. But that hasn't happened. I'm 26 weeks today, and heading into my third trimester now. Each time someone asks me if I'm excited (whether referring to having a girl, or just in general), I find it hard to fake a "yes." So I started saying, "I'm getting there," but that also feels disingenuous.

I finally figured out what my problem is. I think I made the joke often enough that it sunk in a little too deep for me. I really think I could have been happy and satisfied with just one child, and not had any more. I don't not want this baby. I don't feel resentful. I just am not really very excited. At all.

I have many friends, some very close, some more like acquaintances, who are unable to have children of their own, or for whom it is very difficult. To them I'm sure I sound ungrateful. To those who have large families, I probably sound selfish, and maybe there's a bit of truth to that.

The other reason I hesitate to share all this is because I worry that someday, when Robyn reads it, that she'll feel that she wasn't wanted. I want to repeat that this was a planned pregnancy, and I wouldn't change anything about it. Ben tells me that I had more of a disconnect than I remember when it came to Julie's birth. He said it took me a week or so before I really felt a strong connection and embraced my newly found motherhood. He expects that my current discouragement will dissipate in much the same manner. I hope he's right.

I shared some of these personal thoughts and feelings a few weeks ago with a couple of girlfriends, each of whom are mothers to two already. They each told me that they've known other women who have expressed similar sentiments. I never have. I feel very alone in this, and that's hard. I'm glad to know that there are others out there, but I imagine that many of them are also hesitant to talk about these feelings, as I am. And so for that reason, despite what may be better judgment, I am sharing this. Women who may feel like this need to know that they're not alone in it. And despite what I -- and others -- may feel right now, I need to keep telling myself that eventually I'll come around.

Weaning Julie

Foreword: This post is primarily for posterity's sake. I wanted to write this out so I remember it later. It's really long, and not very interesting, so go ahead and skip it if you want.

Weaning technically starts when you first begin giving a baby solid foods, then when you begin to add in other liquids, such as water, juice, or whole milk. So I guess I've been weaning Julie for about five months now. My milk supply began to noticeably dwindle not long after Julie started eating three meals a day. I've been actively trying to cut back her nursing time over the last three to four weeks. The last time she was sick, Julie spent one whole day not eating anything; only nursing. By the end of that day, my breasts and nipples were so sensitive. For the next few days, I couldn't let her nurse for more than about three minutes at a time before I just couldn't take it anymore. I decided it was time. I had actually been ready to start weaning her about four months or so ago (she was only seven months then...don't judge me, please), but Ben asked me to keep going as long as I could, so I did. I just couldn't anymore, and I was apparently emotional enough when I told him so that he believed me.

Since Julie was only ten months old at the time, I bought some formula to switch her over to. I started by adding it to her morning cereal, to first get her system used to it before I introduced the flavor directly. At this point, she already drank water and whole milk (at her nine-month checkup, the doctor said we could start milk, just not use it to replace breast milk until a year). I had offered her apple juice, but she didn't like it. By time I gave her a bottle of formula to take, she was just not the least bit interested. I think the most I got her to drink at once was an ounce. So we decided to wean her straight to whole milk.

I started actively trying to pare down her nursings about 3-4 weeks ago. It actually was pretty easy to cut her down to three feedings a day: one in the morning, one at night, and one sometime during the day. Well, it all changed this week. This week accelerated the process.

Day One
Tuesday morning, I woke up completely dry. I had no milk. "Here we go," I thought. No turning back now. I braced myself for a really cranky day. Surprisingly, Julie was just a peach! She was cheery and snuggly all day long (cuddly, but not clingy). She went to bed very easily.

Day Two
I had refilled during the night. Several months back, Julie had been sick and nursing a lot more than usual, and I was worried about drying up, so I spoke with a lactation consultant who told me that it can take up to 48 hours for milk to replenish itself. Wednesday morning I was a little uncomfortable, but not painful. I nursed her that morning, and around 4:00 that afternoon. I didn't have enough to nurse at bedtime, plus I knew that she would go to bed without nursing, because she had the night before. Wednesday was actually a harder day that Tuesday. I think by Day Two she had realized what was going on. "Wait a second...," she thought. She wasn't very happy with me most of the day.

Day Three
I woke up dry again. At this point, I thought I might go every other day for a little while. That wouldn't be too bad. Julie was still a little cranky with me, but not like Day Two. Unfortunately, Benjamin woke up very sick that morning. He got a touch of the flu bug. He told me that the last time he'd felt that bad, he'd spent three days on his back in Kiev (on his mission). Needless to say, he called in sick to work; I had two babies to take care of now. Julie did fine in the morning, and went down pretty easily for a short morning nap and an average midday nap. When she tried to take a late afternoon nap, she needed help, and she fought it. She wanted to nurse. By bedtime, she knew she was being denied. She screamed and cried for 30 minutes, during which time I put her to sleep four or five times (I lost count), and held her in my arms the entire time. Well, almost. I tried laying her in her crib a few times, to no avail. I didn't want to bother Ben, since he was so sick (he was feeling better by then, but certainly not great). Finally, I needed him to take a turn, because my arms just couldn't do anymore. He spent 15 minutes with more of the same, then we gave up. I put her on to nurse for about two minutes, just for the comfort (there was nothing there). She fell asleep immediately, I held her for another few minutes then laid her bed at 9:00pm last night.

Day Four
Dry again. By now, Julie is definitely resisting her denial. At this point, however, there's not really much I can do about it. I'm not just denying her, I legitimately have nothing left. Naptimes were rough again today. Ben put her to sleep this morning fairly easily. She slept in the car on the way home from playgroup. Her late afternoon nap, however, was another story. It took me about an hour to get her to sleep, after which she slept for only 30 minutes. Benjamin (who was feeling much better today, and was already taking the day off work anyway), then took her, and spent at least another half hour trying to get her back to sleep, since she awoke prematurely. She slept for about 45 minutes that time, and woke up happy. By the time bedtime rolled around, I started again. It took 25 minutes before I decided to try the "put her in her crib and let her do it herself" method. Then I listened to her scream for another 25 minutes. Ben finally went in her room, and she was out in under 10 minutes.

(Side note: My mom weaned me "cold turkey." When I was 13 months old, her grandmother passed away, and when she went out of town for the funeral for a weekend, she left me with my dad. To this day, if the subject is brought up, they will still argue over who had the worse weekend. As I listened to Julie scream this afternoon while Ben was trying to put her back to sleep, I suddenly had the urge to call my dad and thank him for taking care of me that weekend. I actually talked to both my parents today. I think this was the first time since I became a mom that I have really felt sympathetic to them, and grateful for all that they did for me. Since that thought is really just formulating itself as I write, I didn't get to say it to them today. Thanks, Mom and Dad. I love you.)

Day Five
Tomorrow. I'm prepared that I may wake up, have refilled, and be painfully engorged. Should that happen, I have a head of green cabbage in the refrigerator. If not, it will be the third out of four days in a row that Ben will be home and able to help out with Julie's emotional side effects.

My baby's growing up. *sniffle*

Important article

Yesterday's Dear Abby column was something I wanted to share with all my friends who are moms of young children. Mothers of Young Children Need 'Time Out' to Recharge.

For me, Ben always tried to encourage me (and even give me specific opportunities) to get out of the house every day. I get energized, and Julie is in a happier mood if we go out and do something. Plus, I tend to like to stay in my jammies if I don't have to get dressed, so if I go out to do something, then it means that I'll actually get dressed and make myself presentable every day, which also makes me feel better.

Anyway, if you are a "young mother" or a mother of "young children," please take a minute or two to go read this article.

Milestones up the wazoo!

Well, we've finally made it home from our Christmas adventures (a few days ago), and I'm working on getting back to business. For me, this partly means back to blogging, of course. I'll start with a list of milestones and updates on Julie.

• Julie is a quick scooter now. She gets across the room before I know it. Gates have definitely got to go up at the stairs.
• In addition to scooting, she pushes up on her knees and rocks back and forth on them, working on balance, strength, and momentum. No actual crawling yet, though.
• Having learned to sit up on her own (finally), she's loving her new perspective and being able to play with things while not lying prostrate. I'm really excited about her sitting up because now I can take her into the store with me and sit her up in a shopping cart, or in a high chair at a restaurant.
  
• Julie is learning to make choices. Like between toys...this one or that.
• She is also learning cause and effect. When she drops something, we pick it up for her.
• She finally had a breakthrough while on vacation. Two, in fact. On December 28th (my anniversary), her first tooth popped through, and on Monday (this week), her second one pushed out. So now she has two lower front teeth.
• Julie has made associations and has begun reaching out to people. At the beginning of our trip, we visited with a lot of friends in Maine, and Julie was introduced to lots of new people who all wanted to hold her. She was fine with this, but combined with long days of travel, she started to develop a little bit of parental separation anxiety after a day or two. Combined with that came reaching out for me, for Ben, and after about a week at my parents' house, reaching out for my mom as well!
  
• Julie is learning to not avoid the camera so much. It used to be that if the flash was on, she'd stop smiling when the camera beeped and the light came on, so her pictures were more confused than smiley. Now she keeps smiling!
  
• I have taught Julie something. Much of what she has done up to this point in her life has been part of normal development, even though it's really exciting to me. However, this week she started signing the word "milk," which is something that Ben and I have taught her. Yay!
  
• While we were visiting with my family, Julie discovered a love for "bling." She loves shiny and/or sparkly things -- jewelry, mirrors, you name it.
  
• animals
• She's getting much better at letting us wipe her hands and face off when she's messy. She used to hate it and scream when we did it. She still doesn't like it much, but she's learned to deal with it.
• Having mastered the arts of sitting and scooting, Julie is doing a lot of standing now, in our laps. She's developing good leg muscle strength.
  
• My sister introduced Julie to the game "peek-a-boo" during Christmas vacation. We had previously played it with Jules by throwing a cloth over her head, and waiting for her to pull it off. She now enjoys playing it while we hide and peek around a corner, or while we cover our faces.
  
• Sleep. Ugh. Julie used to sleep anywhere from 10 to 13 hours at night. Then we went on vacation. There were two problems with this. (1) She hates the pack and play. (2) She got sick right at the beginning of our trip. When she's sick, she's clingy and Ben turns into a total softy. So she slept in the bed with us for several days while she was sick. By then she'd gotten used to it and wouldn't sleep for more than five hours in the pack and play. After Ben left to come home, it was only me, which got really tiring after a night or two (pardon the pun...it was intentional). We've been home for five nights now (I think), and two of them she has actually stayed asleep until 4:00am, so that's improving at least. However, somewhere along the way, Julie discovered that she has the ability to resist going to sleep. Nap time has now become exhausting for me. Literally. She refuses to go to sleep, and instead is just really really cranky. It's a new and rough situation for me, but I'll work through it. Eventually.
  

Commentary on pop culture

Ben and I went out to dinner tonight at Ruby Tuesday. Alone. It was great. (Thanks to the Hoopes', who babysat Julie.) The fact that we were alone has absolutely nothing to do with what I'm writing about, but I just had to share it.

I noticed (not for the first time) tonight, that there were many more employees than necessary at the restaurant. We had one person who introduced himself as our "server," however, he did not serve us. Why is it necessary to have one person to take our order, a second person to bring our drinks, a third person to bring our food, and a fourth to bus the table after we leave? Person #1 comes back midway through the meal to ask if everything is alright, and maybe refills our drinks. Meanwhile, half the restaurant was empty, and from the direction I was facing, I could see several employees just "hanging out" at the end of the aisle I was seated in, and they just stood around talking and laughing most of the time.

Now, when I started dating and going out for meals semi-frequently nine or so years ago, 15% was the standard for tipping. Now it had gone up to 20%. I can't attribute this to inflation, because a percentage wouldn't' be affected by inflation. What I want to know is why am I tipping 20% to someone who writes down my order and asks if everything is okay, but does nothing else?

Moving on. I watched something on TV this week about anti-aging treatments. The women who were participating were 51, 43, and 39. Maybe I will feel differently in ten years, but I don't get the whole need to reverse the aging process. Why is it such an obsession? What's wrong with looking your age? Personally, I think it's kind-of creepy when 15-year-olds have 43-year-old moms who look 28.

Your thoughts on any of the above?

Thankful November: Day 17

Whoops! I forgot to post this yesterday. I'll backdate it so it looks like it's on the right day.

"Today" I am thankful for modern medicine. I've been having an issue for about 6 weeks or so, and finally saw my doctor for it last week. He prescribed something that is supposed to treat what I don't think the problem is, but I'll give it a try. We'll see. In any case, I'm very thankful for modern medicine.

Friday Feature: Scribbit

Okay, you're probably wondering if I typed that right. If you're not wondering that, you're probably repeating the word several times, because it feels weird on your mouth or on your tongue.

Scribbit | A Blog About Motherhood In Alaska is a blog written by a "real" mother (not a supermom). She lives in Anchorage, and among her blog praises are the following:

• Scribbit was ranked second in the list of forty most popular parent blogs by Mamablogga
• She was ranked fifth on the list of ten Top Motherhood Blogs in the Wall Street Journal
  
• She has been interviewed on 5 Minutes for Mom several times
• She was a speaker at BlogHer 2008
• In May 2008, Blogger.com featured her as a "Blog of Note" on their homepage

Michelle (Scribbit's author and creator) has a schedule that she has been following for over three years since she started her blog: recipes on Sunday, photo and a household tip on Wednesday, random lists on Thursday, and a product review and/or giveaway on Saturday. The rest of the days she fills in. She also conducts a monthly writing contest. Scribbit quickly became one of my favorite blogs once I found it. I'm guessing it will be the same for you.

Bake PINK for cancer research

Baking Delights is holding a Boobie Bake-Off to help raise money for cancer research. October is breast cancer awareness month, and the bake-off will take place at the beginning of October. The idea is to bake pink. Anything pink. And then submit it, and readers can vote for their favorite. You can participate by baking and submitting an entry, or by voting. The cost to vote is $1 via Paypal, all of which goes to the Susan G. Komen foundation.

Tongue-in-cheek quote for the day

Whatever you give a woman, she's going to multiply. If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby. If you give her a house, she'll give you a home. If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal. If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart. She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.

So, if you give her crap, you will receive a bucket full of crap.

Love and appreciate all the women in your life.

Ugh

This morning at 5:30, I was changing the sheets on my bed. It's not because I'm a morning person and was cleaning my room today. It's not because I wet the bed, nor is it because Ben wet the bed (neither of which has ever occurred during our actual memory spans). It's not because I was "nesting" (which, by the way, let me just say for the record: I feel gypped that I didn't get to go through the nesting phase when Julie decided to come early). It's not because I didn't like the color of the sheets. No, it's because Julie threw up on them at 5:30 in the morning.

She woke up to feed at 4:46 this morning. Almost a 9-hour stretch. I went and got her out of her crib and brought her into my room (I usually sit up in bed to nurse her because I don't trust my groggy self to not let her roll off my lap in the rocking chair in her room). She ate for about 7 minutes and then just decided to look around for awhile, wide awake. I really don't like it when she's in that kind of a mood at 5:00am. Well, she kept looking around for about 20 minutes, but I knew if I put her back in her crib she'd just start crying and then I'd never get back to sleep. Finally Ben got up to shower, so I had him change her diaper (so I wouldn't have to get up) and then bring her back to me. I laid down to try the nursing-while-on-my-side technique, which isn't particularly comfortable for me, but which I'm taking to doing more frequently during these early morning feedings. She laid down next to me, took a couple of sucks, and started coughing (oh yeah, she'd already had one scary coughing spell earlier). She seemed to be okay by now, so I started to turn her head back toward me, when she just erupted. Ugh. So I got up anyway. I changed her jammies, cleaned off the back of her head, and put her in her crib. Then I stripped down our bed and went downstairs to the laundry to get our other set of freshly washed sheets. By then Ben was getting out of the shower, so we put the sheets on the bed. Then I went back to the nursery, got Julie out of bed, fed her (in the rocking chair, since I was wide-awake by now). She fell fast asleep after a few sucks. I laid her back in bed, then I went back to bed. I climbed back into my own bed at 5:58. I'd been awake for over an hour with this little escapade. Oh well. At least I knew that I'd be having homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast this morning.

Oh contraire. I had made the cinnamon rolls last night, put them in a baking dish, covered it, and stuck it in the fridge for Ben to bake this morning. I got more rolls out of this batch of dough than I normally do, so the baking dish was too crowded. The rolls didn't bake through very well. They're too doughy. So I'm disappointed. :(

I guess the day can only mostly go up from here, right? (Knock on wood...)

Book recommendation

I have shared this book with several people, but I think it's something that more people ought to know about. A little history first.

When Ben and I got married, I was on birth control (the Pill). I gained a lot of weight on the Pill in a relatively short time, and had a few other negative side effects. After eight or nine months on it, I stopped taking it, partly because I wanted to, and partly on doctor's advice. The very next day, Ben and I went to the bookstore and bought two books on "natural" birth control. One was not super great, the other was this. I successfully used the method laid out in this book to not get pregnant for a year. Once we settled in Cleveland and decided it was time to start "trying" we successfully achieved pregnancy the first month that we tried. That was due in part to the Fertility Awareness Method.

Many people think that this is the same as the "rhythm method." It is not. Others have also heard of temperature taking. That is not enough. This book teaches you first about your body and how it works and the signs it gives you. Then it teaches you how to read and interpret those signs, including basal body temperature.

Regardless of whether or not you use the Pill, plan to have children, don't plan to, or anything else, if you are a woman, you should read this book. It will give you a far greater understanding of the inner working of your body than your 5th grade reproduction class or 9th grade biology ever gave you.


You can purchase it on Amazon by clicking here.

UPDATE: If you have irregular cycles, but think you might otherwise be interested in this, please read the comments.