Surgery for Frances

Right after getting her breathing tube out in the PICU

The little hand is on 11. The big hand is on 12. It is 11 o' clock. It is check-up time for Frances.
Mother kisses her and hopes for the best. Father kisses her and prays for weight gain. Frances goes with Mother to see the doctor. Frances loses weight. Mother cries, the doctor cries, Frances is admitted to WakeMed. Frances thinks, "They will figure out what is wrong with my tummy so I can go home soon." Mother packs a bag. Father packs a bag. Mother and Father spend the night with Frances at the hospital.

It is morning on day three of being in the hospital. Frances is not feeling any better. The Pediatric ENT who released her at Rex comes to see her again. He announces that she has severe laryngomalacia. Mother is confused. Father is confused. They remember the same doctor telling them that her condition was not only mild but harmless.

Mr. ENT says he doesn't feel comfortable treating this "severe atypical form" of laryngomalacia. Mr. ENT says she will need surgery. Frances thinks, "W-T-F?!?!?" Mr. ENT suggests that Frances be transferred to NC Children's Hospital at UNC. Dr. WakeMed agrees. The transport team arrives with a heated aquarium looking thing to take Frances to UNC. Frances gets to ride in the giant transport ambulance. Mother and Father follow behind in their little red car. Frances is admitted to UNC Hospital.

It is the weekend. No testing or true treatments can be done until Monday when the teams return to work. Frances enjoys a weekend of throwing up her food and starting to be fed by an NG tube running down her nose.. which she throws up as well. Mother is tired. Father is tired. Frances is tired. The nurses and myriad of doctors and medical students at UNC are incredible. The doctor's say, "We don't call things "atypical" here. We see it all so this doesn't look unusual to us." Mother feels cared for. Father feels hopeful. Frances tries hard to get better on her own.


A super happy (naughty) girl who just pulled her NG feeding tube out for the second time

It is Monday. The teams are assembled. ENT and pulmonary doctors meet to discuss what is to be done to help Frances. They will do a scope in the OR on Wednesday so that if they think surgery is necessary they will only have to sedate her once. Mother is relieved to have a date to work towards. Father wishes it was sooner. Frances is asleep. Frances is so tired from trying to breathe that she sleeps around the clock unless she is more uncomfortable than usual. Frances can not keep any food down that she eats orally.. so she is giving a "continuous feed" via her NG tube.

It is Wednesday. It is surgery day. Mother carries Frances in her arms to the surgical area. Mother prays. Father prays. Frances sleeps. The nurses and doctors take Frances from Mother and walk away towards the OR. Mother and Father go to the waiting room. Soon the doctor comes out. Mother's heart jumps. Father turns red. The doctor gives them the diagnosis. It is as they expected, a severe case of laryngomalacia. They are proceeding with the surgical intervention (a superglotoplasty) and should be done soon. Mother thanks the doctor. Father thanks the doctor. Frances has surgery and is transferred to the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) for further observation.

It is Friday. Frances has had her breathing tube removed and has been breathing on her own for 24 hours. She is doing very well. A speech therapist has already been to her room twice to feed her with a bottle to see if she could eat. Frances has had to learn how to breathe and swallow again with a little less tissue in her throat. Frances is a quick study. The ENTs say she is doing better than expected. The pulmonologists think she sounds wonderful. Frances is ready to go back to the pulmonary ward. Mother is thrilled. Father is ecstatic. Frances is waiting for a room to open up so she can continue her recovery up on the 5th floor. Frances thinks, "When will I be well enough to go back home to my house and see my big sisters?". Mother wonders the same thing. Father is going stir crazy in the PICU. The doctors make it sound like it won't possibly be before Monday.

To be continued....

In which I start to lose it a little..

So since I was writing this lovely detailed account after the fact.. I thought I would do it in sections.. since Franky was home with us and it was just too crazy to write it while she was in the Special Care Nursery. And then.. all hell broke loose. In a manner of speaking. She started to lose weight this past Monday.. they gave us 24 hours to get her to gain.. she did.. we all cheered.. they said keep it up for the next 2 days and come back for a check.. we did.. she started throwing most of her food up.. and when we came back.. she had lost weight.. and off we went to the pediatric unit of WakeMed to be admitted... now I am sitting here in a room of NC Children's Hospital at UNC in Chapel Hill.. and I am starting to lose my motherly cool a little bit. I would love to tell you all the details of how we got here and why we are here and all of that jazz.. but if I don't write what is really going on in my head I am going to have a major meltdown and I can't afford to do that just now.

The short version of what is going on is that she is having trouble breathing.. thus isn't gaining weight.. failure to thrive for lack of a better term.. or FTT is why she was admitted. We are Chapel Hill because they are the best facility on the East Coast and she needs their expertise.

You know the worst part about being in a children's ward of a hospital..? The crying. The crying children who are in pain or being given a shot or just plain feel terrible so they cry.. and cry.. and you can hear them and it breaks my heart.. so I start crying... The staff are all so friendly and helpful.. kind.. patient... but yet I am here on the floor where they do mostly pulmonary and oncology .. in kids. Kids with cancer. All around. Next door. A toddler in the same sort of bed Frances is laying in. Bald.. with tubes running everywhere. Down the hall.. another bald teenager is pushing his IV...joking with some nurses. My baby doesn't have cancer. Praise the Lord my baby doesn't have cancer. I feel like I have no right to be emotional when Franky is not dealing with life threatening issues. So I smile and nod and tell the story of how we arrived here 65 times to various doctors and attendings .. nurses.. residents.. I can handle this I tell myself. No worries.. thank goodness we have a diagnosis and we just need to figure out how to treat it now. What she has is very common.. thank goodness! Take a deep breath and go pump some breastmilk because she will need to eat in an hour. And then I hear one of those kids cry and I just go to pieces inside. I want to run to their room and hold them tight until they calm down. Hold their mama's hand. Wanna know another thing that really sucks about being in the hospital with your two week old baby ...? You can't hold her unless you are right next to all the cords and wires coming off of her body.. you can't take her to snuggle on the fold out chair you are sleeping on.. you can't change her diaper without getting tangled in something that sets off an alarm. You can't crawl into bed with her.. you can't take her place. You can only watch.. and comfort.. and hum songs to her.. sing to her.. tell her how much her big sisters miss her.. how much you love her.. how everything is going to be ok..
I feel like I am handling this all pretty well.. but then Stephen goes home in the evening to spend some time with the girls and put them down to bed.. and I am here alone.. in the quiet of the room.. no doctors checking in.. no tests being run.. and I just want to go home. I just want to take her out of here and go home. I miss my girls.. I miss my Ada and my Margot.. this is not the way it was supposed to be. We were supposed to be home.. all together.. sleep deprived and cranky.. but happy and together.. well.. whole.. I want to go home.

Part 2: Getting Her Here

(Stephen's sketch of me in labor)

I sat, I layed down, I walked around, I climbed up and down the stairs.. I did everything I could think of to make the contractions go away.. and they didn't stop. I tracked them on a my little note pad for 3 hours. They were never completely consistent but they were getting closer and closer together. 6 minutes, 5 minutes, 8 minutes, 3 minutes, 4 minutes.. the pain was getting more intense and I started to wonder if my verbal attempts to breathe through them might be mistaken for some sort of x-rated video if overheard by the sleepers upstairs. Finally I decided that this was something at least more real than the night before and called the doctor. The automated message told me that once again Dr. Cranky was on call. DANG IT. I hung up fast, waiting another agonizing 30 minutes and watched as the contractions became even closer together, averaging 4 minutes apart. I screwed up my courage and put on my big girl panties and called him back. I woke him up again, since by this time it was about 4:15 am. I told him the situation, pausing to breathe through yet another contraction, and he groggily told me to come on in again and get checked out. I hung up and struggled up the stairs to wake Stephen. He was wide awake in moments and we gathered the few things we had left to put into our hospital bag, he went and whispered to Mary (who was slumber partying on an air mattress in the girls' room.. and still is by the way) that we were on our way to the hospital again.

I continued to have contractions every 4 minutes on the dot all the way to the hospital.. ouch.. how did you do that in a cab L ?!?!? We waddled inside and checked back into the birth center. It took moments to let us know that we were there to stay this time. I even started throwing up.. not a big deal for me of course but just another sure sign that I really was in labor. The nurse was super nice and super quick and we were on our way to a labor and delivery room. Once we were there Dr. Grumpy arrived to see how things were going (for the record I really like this doctor.. in person.. just not a big fan of calling and waking him up). I was only dilated about 1 1/2 but things were progressing well so he went away again. Stephen and I were so excited to be on this new adventure.. I never even went into labor with the girls. He held my hand through the contractions and swore that I wasn't hurting him when I squeezed (later he admitted that I had dug my fingernails into this skin :). After another 4 hours or so the doctor came in and saw that I had not really progressed beyond that 1 1/2. By this point I was pretty exhausted. I hadn't really slept in 3 days and though the contractions were still something I could handle with smiles in between.. there wasn't much room to rest with them coming every 3 minutes. I decided was ready for an epidural... I just needed some sleep.. badly. I was still throwing up and now I could feel a slight headache starting to brew up there. Dr. H (as he shall now be known from this point forward) was old school and so could do his own epidurals and he came in about 20 minutes later to take care of it. Strange strange feeling, there was burning.. cold sensations.. pain that felt like I had been kicked in the back.. and most disturbingly a series of pops and cracks as he threaded the thing in there.. and then a warning. Only about 85% of these things actually work.. so .. cross your fingers. Mine was in that 15%. Sigh of relief. My lower half felt like it had been wrapped in a warm blanket. The contractions raged away on the monitor, rain pattered on the windows of our room.. Stephen opened his sketch book and started drawing.. and I slipped off to sleep. It was heavenly. The next time he came through I had dilated another 2! Since I was trying for a VBAC the fact that he epidural didn't seem to be slowing things down was a very good sign as that had been a risk of this pain reliever. I went back to sleep, encouraged. I woke about an hour later to some pain. The epidural wasn't working on my left side. I told the nurse it was fine since it wasn't nearly as painful as the full deal had been. But despite her best efforts to fix the problem they only got more painful.. another 3 hours with no sleep but I still felt good and rested from the nap I had taken while things were working properly. When Dr. H returned to check things we were shocked to learn that there had been no progress. He decided to let me go another hour or so and check again. He was looking a bit concerned since he has actually witnessed several uterine ruptures (along with my nurse) and he didn't want to take any chances. When he returned again there had still be no progress. The issue was that ever since my arrival at the hospital my contractions had never really regulated.. they were erratic from the start and that was not encouraging. He made the decision that we were headed for another C-Section. In his words "In Vegas you can bet the house and lose and still walk away.. but this isn't Vegas.. and we aren't better houses.". I had met with him several times during the last 9 months and each time I had agreed to follow his (or the other doctors in the practice) advice at all times if I wanted to try this VBAC thing so I didn't even shed a tear when he told me this news. I was prepared. I knew it was a risk and above all I wanted our little one to get here safely and not lose any important reproductive organs in the process. Within 20 minutes we were rolling down that familiar hall toward the OR.

The spinal was administered.. I listened while the nurses teased Dr. H about his approaching retirement... giggled when he drew a funny face on my belly with his surgical marker. Then Stephen showed up.. and moments later they told him he could look over the curtain and he watched her being born. As soon as she cried I burst into tears.. of course. The nurses exclaimed about what a big girl she was (7 lbs and 15 oz) and announced that she had a head full of dark hair. She was absolutely beautiful. They took her off to bathe her.. Stephen followed. The team started stitching me back up. I tried to go to sleep on the table.. I was so stinkin' tired at this point. Tired and relieved that she was here and that at 3:08 in the afternoon on May 23rd I had my 3rd daughter safe and sound. Soon we were on our way to recovery.. together! That didn't happen with the girls.

She was beside me getting her first real bath and when she fussed I talked to her from feet away and she went silent and looked in my direction. My heart soared. I shivered my way through the morphine and spinal wearing off.. I trembled my way through loads of questions and instructions I had heard before. Meanwhile Stephen hovered between the two of us. Dr. H came in to see everyone and apologize for the tiny cut he had made on her cheek.. the nurses teased him.. we assured him it was fine .. it was just a scratch.. and thanked him for delivering our daughter safely. Franky's nurse kept hovering around her bed.. she was listening intently to her chest.. she smiled and joke and laughed but underneath it all.. she looked concerned. She called another nurse in to listen.. they kept it light.. but still looked concerned. They had heard something funny in her chest.. maybe she had inhaled some fluid. They would just keep checking, sure she was fine. We all headed to our more permanent hospital room.

Franky was pretty sleepy but I tried nursing her anyway.. she was too sleepy to latch. No worries - Ada was that way when she was born too. We took a few pictures. 15 minutes passed. That baby nurse showed back up. She just couldn't get that chest sound out of her head and had come back to check her again.. and check her oxygen saturation levels with a hand held device. She checked once.. twice.. she got another device to check the same thing.. still not satisfied she assured us that sometimes the battery powered ones didn't work correctly and she was going to take her to the nursery to check her on another monitor. They would bring her back in a few minutes or let us know what they found out. Stephen was ready to go get the girls and Grammy. I told him it was fine to go.. I was fine and resting comfortably by now. He kissed me, smiled with those happy eyes, and left.

Soon after he left a nurse came in to tell me that they were still watching her in the nursery and weren't sure how much longer she would be there. I called Stephen to tell him he better take the girls for ice cream instead since I wasn't sure when she would be back in the room, we would postpone the girls' visit until the next day. I waited.. and waited.. and waited. Several hours went by. I am probably a little overly patient when it comes to hospital stuff.. I didn't want to bother the nurses. After all .. they had told me they would let me know as soon as they heard anything. I started to get anxious.. and cranky.. and a little worried. Shift change happened. The new nurse came to introduce herself. I asked her where my baby was.. she told me, in a friendly matter-of-fact sort of way, that she had been moved to the "Special Care Nursery" upstairs.. hadn't anyone been in to tell me that? No.. no one had told me that. Why was she moved? She didn't really know she had just come on duty. Can you please find out?!?!? Absolutely. She came back to let me know that baby Frances had been ADMITTED to Special Care. Admitted?? Why?? Still not sure.. something about an x-ray and her having trouble breathing. Nausea as I tried to keep panic from entering my mind. Can you please PLEASE find out what is going?? The PA on duty will be down in a few minutes to talk to you. She smiled and she was oh so friendly and helpful.. I couldn't get frustrated with her.. I didn't want to scare her by crying in front of her. I held it together, called Stephen to see when the heck he was getting back to the hospital. He announced he was just walking into the hospital. What is wrong? I told him I didn't want to talk about it on the phone... just come straight to the room and we can talk about it.




My resolve was cracking.. my voice was cracking.. by the time he got to the room I was in full panic mode and tearfully told him the little that I knew. Mom and Dad showed up to surprise us with beautiful roses.. I burst into tears at the sight of them and sobbed about wanting to know what was going on and wanting my baby. Ellen showed up with fresh strawberries. I pulled it together again. The nurse came to let us know that the PA would be in at 7:30 to talk to us. We all waited together. Tried to make conversation.. and waited. I showed them our beautiful daughter on the tiny screen of our Nikon... and we waited.

Part 1: Grammy's Overnight Adventure

After having contractions on Friday and then all day Saturday (before the previously mentioned cliche early morning visit to the hospital) we called Mary to see if there was any chance she might be able to get here sooner than Wednesday. Sure enough, she jumped into action and found a ticket for a train that left Saturday night and arrived Sunday morning. She rode the rails through the night and once again arrived to meet the girls in highly dramatic fashion. She is raising the stakes with each visit.. airport.. now train station.. next time.. hot air balloon?



Mommy stayed home and tried to sleep through the contractions that decided to kick in again after we got home that morning. I wandered around all day wondering when things would be bad enough to call the doctor. I took several walks around the neighborhood. Kept updating the parentals, rested as much as I could. They started to get more and more painful. Harder to talk through. Then I couldn't talk through them. Went to bed that night wondering if I would get any sleep.. didn't. Got up and came downstairs to track my progress on my own so that Stephen could sleep... it was starting to look like this was the real thing.

Frances Pauline

Our sweet Frances Pauline was born on May 23rd at 3:08pm weighing 7 pounds and 15 ounces.
I feel rather embarrassed that I haven't written about her arrival until just now. This is mostly due to the amount of drama surrounding her arrival and the days following. I will say that she is home with us now and doing quite well.. as for the rest of the story.. stay tuned.



Most common comment on seeing our newest family member: "Look at that hair!!!!"

Cliche

No pictures to go with this one. I feel like a completely and utter cliche right now. It is 3:39 am and Stephen and I just got back from the hospital. I had been having contractions regularly for an hour and a half after calling the doctor and asking what I needed to be at before we needed to head in.. 45-50 seconds each about 10 minutes apart.. I know there is still room for improvement there so I called him back since he had said to call again when they were 30-45 seconds long and more regular. He sleepily (grumpily?) told me to go on into the hospital and "get checked out". I swear to you as soon as I stood up and started getting things together the dang contractions slowed down again.. by the time Heather (aka Saint Heather the Life Saver) got here close to 1am to watch the sleeping beauties they were practically non-existent. Rule follower that I am, I still felt like we should go in and get checked out. It never really picked back up that much and after being there for a couple of hours I asked if we could please go home and the nurse called the doc and he said yes.... go home. Ye olde cervix is closed up pretty tight.. shortened apparently.. but still closed. Only 50% effaced.. whatever the heck that means. Here is the suck part... these contractions hurt. They are apparently working on getting things going but it seems dealing with them since 4am yesterday was not enough time for my dear old body to get a move on. Not that I am bitter about it or anything. Bro-ther. So... waiting.... and trying to figure out how the heck I am going to get any rest with these things coming in waves every 10-15 minutes. Really hoping Tylenol PM does more right now than it has in the past.....SIGH.

Yesterday.. and then.. Today

Stephen stayed home yesterday because I really needed a break and he is pretty much just spinning his wheels at school right now.. waiting for the official end date. It rained in the morning so it was perfect weather for puddle jumping ladies.












I have been having so many Braxton Hicks contractions this week that I was pretty worn out by Friday. So the break was just perfect. I was actually a little disappointed that as I slept and relaxed around the house, I didn't have very many BH at all. I had sort of been hoping this meant that I would go into labor relatively soon.

Then I woke up at 4 this morning (not unusual in the least).. with some serious pains. Very different than what I had been having all week, which was just tightness and pressure. I stayed in bed through about 5 or so before deciding to head downstairs for a change of position, a snack and a drink to see if that changed anything.. it didn't. I called the OB about 3 hours later and she confirmed that I was in "early labor" and didn't need to come in until "the pain is so bad you can't talk through it" and "they are occurring at regular intervals of 5-7 minutes for at least an hour". So here I sit with my still irregular contractions.. waiting until I am in agony before I call in the reserves to watch the girls and head to the hospital. Mary was miraculously able to get an upgraded train ticket and will be here tomorrow morning at 8am. So really if baby waits until tomorrow after Mary gets here to get serious about her arrival it wouldn't be that bad. Since I never went into labor with the girls this whole thing is new to me. It's hard to tell what is going on with some of these contractions because I have a pretty high tolerance for pain so I am used to talking and even working through excruciating migraines. Still.. they say you know when it's the real deal so.. I am trusting that I will know. Anyway.. just wanted to let everyone out there know what is going on over here.. keep us in your prayers!

All for me...

..because she knows me. Ellen might be the only person that knows that the main thing I have craved ever since I was preggo with the girls was and is Watergate Salad. If you aren't from the south your probably have no idea what this is or why anyone would want to eat what might look a bit like the cooks special treat from that movie Earnest Goes to Camp (come on I know ya'll saw that one back in the day.. "Eeeeeewwwwwwwwww!"). It is fruity.. it is sweet.. is has marshmallows and was a staple at every church picnic/covered dish I attended growing up. I have never made it even though I was craving it. I just tried to stick to my apples and carrots.. so glad that she was kind enough to indulge me since I clearly have problems doing that for myself. Thanks BFF :)

Baby Stuff

Margot is too cool for this crowd.



Poor Ada loves her bathing suit but it's always "too tight" or "not working". In reality it is actually loose on her (as bathing suits go).. but she has her Daddy and Grammy's sensibilities so.. most things are too tight or "not working". This is our biggest battle lately.. shoes being a particular struggle. She tries so hard to hang in there and eventually win her battle with such things as stitching around the toe of her sandal. I am proud of her efforts.. just a little tired of the screaming and fighting sessions it takes to get her there.. but nevertheless we forge ahead.



Doncha just wanna kiss that little cheek? Margot is definitely our entertainer.. among other things.

So I am now in my 37th week. I went to the OB yesterday and things still look great. I am starting to get a little puffy.. and that is uncomfortable. Even my doctor said I looked a little more puffy than normal. I lost 4 pounds in the last week though.. what?!?! Who knows. My body is nutty. The main issue with the puffy stuff is my legs.. standing makes them ache and throb.. but at least that doesn't really get going until the end of the day. I just need to take it easy .. ha! The doc I saw yesterday is our buddy who has twin girls and a singleton girl of his own so he laughed out loud when he said that to me. At least he knows how silly that sounds. Right now I can't complain though. The girls are playing "Emmie and Kiley".. this is a new one. They are pretending to be two of their friends and calling each other by said names. Currently Emmie (Margot) is brushing Kiley's (Ada) teeth with a pillow. My kids are.... special.

No sign that this baby will come early. In fact he said he was perfectly comfortable with waiting 7-10 days after my due date for me to go into labor on my own so I can VBAC. I should feel lucky that my doctors are so supportive of this option since so many are not. Still.. the lazy and exhausted part of me wants them to tell me to schedule another C-Section. If I am honest with myself though, I don't feel good about this option as an elective procedure this time. Last time I was so worried about Margot being breech and had no peace about a vaginal breech delivery that I was absolutely certain I wanted a C-Section. This time I really have a gut feeling that I will eventually go into labor and that VBAC is the way to go. Of course I am fine with a C if it comes to that in the end, but as of now my gut says.. VBAC. I find that my gut instinct is normally a pretty good judge of these things and when I ignore it.. I get into trouble.

I am so stinkin' tired today. Everyday really. Who is surprised by that though? Every morning I get up thinking "Today is the day I will tie up all the loose ends around the house. I CAN DO THIS. I CAN do the laundry! I CAN vacuum the crumb covered floor! I CAN pack my bag for the hospital and finish the list of tips for those who might be keeping the kids!" and then I waddle downstairs for breakfast... and then sit down on the couch. And stay there for at least an hour. Time waster! Just don't feel like moving and she is buried so deep down in my pelvis that it is actually pretty painful to walk up and down and bend over to collect stray toys and all that jazz.. so today after my wasted time.. I am wasting more by telling you guys about how I waste my time these days. Really can't wait for Stephen to be done with school. That will make a huge difference.. too bad he's not done until the day before she is due. Sigh. How about this.. can't wait for Mary to get here on the 25th!!! That is if baby hasn't made her appearance before then.

Ok. Off to make beds and pack that doggone hospital bag!

Happy Mommy Day

...just a few of my favorites from days already gone too fast..

Strawberries!!!!!

75 degrees and sunny.. perfect day for our first trip to pick strawberries. It did rain some yesterday but thankfully it didn't seem to affect the flavor of the strawberries.. maybe they didn't get any of our rain. They are as sweet as sugar.






Ada found the biggest "daddy strawberry" of the morning.



Margot was very focused on finding "baby berries".



The fun lasted about 25 or 30 minutes.. and that might be a generous guess but they were both super great little girls and stayed in their row and didn't have a melt down and really had a great time. Too bad we can't do this every Saturday :)

Good Start to the Day..

Pretty sure they watched this at least 12 times this morning. Then we moved on to Gloria videos :)

23 and 36

So here we are.. she at 23 weeks and I at 36. Her's a miraculous surprise, mine some awesome divine planning. Her's another boy.. mine.. another girl. 3 boys and 3 girls. Never would have thought we would ever live in the same city much less be pregnant at the same time.



I am not fond of pictures of myself at the end of pregnancy. Who is really? I feel huge.. I look huge.. I am huge. I have a thing about being huge. I don't care for it. It's for a good cause I know.. but I can't wait to get back to my regular wardrobe, selfish and vain as that sounds and is.



Still who could resist capturing this moment in time ?

She took me for a Mexican feast and a DELUXE pedicure ;) Hey big spender. I sprang for two hot fudge sundaes at McD's.

Meanwhile our wonder hubbies took care of the little ones. Stephen told me the cutest story about the girls that I just have to share.

They have been getting much better at sharing lately.. particularly food. Just the other day Ada sweetly fed Margot bites of her own chocolate chip cookie after Margot had eaten all of her own and was crying for more.

Stephen took them to a softball game in the neighborhood yesterday and brought along a couple of lolly pops (DumDums) as a treat(bribe?) for the wagon ride over there. He chose two flavors that would be pink, watermelon and cherry. But when he opened the watermelon it was white. Blerg. Ada was fine for a minute.. until she saw Margot's lovely pink cherry lolly. Then she didn't want her's anymore. She started to fuss and get upset.. we have some seriously emotional and moody girls. Stephen asked Margot if she would share hers with Ada.. "Mmmmm sure!" came the reply. She held it out for her to take a lick. Ada wanted to hold it.. that was crossing a line. So the lick wasn't enough for Ada.. Stephen asked if Ada could have a bite of it (?!). Margot considered and then agreeably bit off a piece and handed it to Ada. Still not satisfied Ada continued to protest.. yeah he could have just let her scream it out.. you know how much fun that is. Instead Stephen asked one more time.. "Margot, would you just trade with Ada?" "Sure!".. and that sweet baby gave her pink lolly to her sister. Of course it doesn't always go this well but it's those moments that make your heart swell. Watching your child's little personality bloom in front of your eyes.. and it's a pretty bloom.

I am pretty sure if I calculated the amount of time we spend putting out fires and fights and trying to contain attitudes and doling out discipline for bad behavior it would far outweigh the moments of peaceful play and sweet sisterly love. Still for some reason those 5 minutes of precious cooperative play make it possible to bear the other stuff. It makes it all feel worthwhile.

Four Minutes

Our favorite game to play these days is "Mommy Margot and Baby Ada". This can go on for quite awhile. I can't really blame Ada though.. sitting in a vibrating bouncy seat must be quite relaxing.

The most peaceful room in our home..

We are ready for her arrival... I, for one, and more than stinkin' ready. Holy moly I am so tired of being pregnant. I feel like all I do is complain but seriously.. just over this whole thing. I was about to have the girls by this point with them.. and I could spend all day sleeping and eating and putting my feet up.. this chasing the girls around all day and trying to keep my house together so I can keep my sanity is for the .. I would say birds but it's really for those folks that want really big families or something.. I am so excited that we are having 3.. 3 is a good number in my book.

For the time being I try to escape to my happy place whenever I can. The baby's room is my happy place. How could it not be?! Look at the beautiful quilt that Grammy Mary made for our little lady. You simply can't look at it without smiling.



The return of the comfy rocker doesn't hurt either.



Neither do Stephen's precious silhouettes framed in up-cycled frames from Mom.



And then there is the crazy coincidence that my friend Cheri hand knitted a blanket for baby that happens to be the exact same colors as the quilt that Mary made. I mean look at that!!! I never told Cheri anything about colors and Mary and she never spoke. Cheri said she just knew I like vintage stuff so she chose colors that looked vintage.. amazing.

Now I am going to take these cranky kids outdoors and attempt to wear them out. Is it really only 10:30 ....? Sigh.

Monday Morning.. might wanna turn your volume down..

Lest anyone be misled into thinking that our days are filled with smiling girls awash in sunshine... we are most definitely well on our way to being 3 year olds..

it was oh so heavenly..

..after two pieces each for our family and more shared with neighbors this was all that was left.. and it will be gone as soon as dinner has been consumed.. I think I already need a do-over..




.. and tonight's experiment .. stuffed shells...

Have you ever ...

...kinda..



..sorta..



..wished you were a two year old with a best friend for life..? Me too.

Have you ever..

..made a strawberry rhubarb pie..? Me neither... I'll let you know how it turns out.

Contained

Happiness

"Hey guys.. what are you doing?"
"In a car Mom!"
"Where are you going?"
"Going to my Grammy house Mom!!!"
"I love-a my Grammy Mom.."




This morning is sunny and filled with happiness and sunshine..which is a little odd since I am going to a funeral of a very dear family friend this afternoon. Maybe it isn't that odd after all.. she is in heaven enjoying an even more beautiful day than we are. So maybe it is fitting that my day should contain the faintest glimmer of the glory she is basking in.

I know I have been completely remiss in my writing lately. It's not for lack of having things to say. You could say I have been pretty selfish with my time lately. Every ounce of energy and every moment of my time has been devoted to my family. My house has been clean every week.. tidy every evening (for the most part) when Stephen gets home.. good food cooking on the stove.. leftovers eaten and not wasted in the garbage. Paperwork organized and put away.. things put off for months accomplished in 30 minutes or less. It is as if my visit with Mary recharged my batteries. Once Stephen got home from Paris.. things just clicked into motion and they have been on track ever since. Of course there are hard days.. one this week, for example, left me tearfully hugging a crying Margot while Ada tried to comfort the two of us with her chubby little hands on our hair and soft kisses to our foreheads. Hormones are a pain in the ass man. Potty training is a PAIN IN THE ASS MAN. Yeah I said it.. we are still at 50 % around here.. one Margot trained and totally fine.. one Ada.. acts like it's the first day .. every day. Sigh.
Anyway any moment I have had in the recent days has been devoted to keeping my life together.. making it more beautiful.. keeping a smile on my face.. and that has lately meant much less time with the camera and blog. Still the days march on and I am now in my 3rd trimester and feeling that wave of exhaustion more keenly each day. Can't believe this incredibly active baby girl that is still being knit together will be in my arms so soon. I got my first tangible vision of holding her last night.. all warm and tiny and curled up on my chest. I could almost smell her hair.. I remember getting that feeling about Margot about this point in my pregnancy with the girls. And so in the spirit of continuing to keep things on track.. I am off to fold laundry and get our day going. Hope to be seeing you all sooner than that last post.

Grammy's Here!!!!!!!