30 for 30: Day 25

Hey - did you know that some 3 year olds don't sleep through the night?  Heh, heh, heh...I sometimes I forget how great my kids sleep.  Until I hear other parents talk about their children's sleeping habits - then I count my lucky stars.  My random act for the day was comforting a little sleepless 3 yr. old while his mommy was at the hospital having a baby.

As it turns out, we were on overnight duty for my friend's little boy while she was at the hospital.  SLUMBER PAR-TAY!  Well...not so much slumber, but definitely a whole lot of party.  I had a youth group activity that night, so Kenta was at home alone putting the kids to bed. However, when I came home at 9:00 p.m., all the kids were still awake in their room.  By the time I went up a few minutes later, Thomas had finally conked out, but Abby and our little friend were still going strong.  Somersaults are incredibly fun on a floor mattress, didn't you know?

Anyway, once I separated the two and sent them to their respective beds, it was quite clear that this little guy was sad and missing his mama.  I sang him some songs and rubbed his back and he was soon asleep.

Victory!  I said to myself.  That was easy!  All the kids are asleep and I will sleep wonderfully tonight!  Bahahaha!!  Famous last words, right?

Ha!  Not so much.  At 4:00 a.m., I was woken up by the sound of not one, but TWO crying boys knocking on the door.  As I shook off sleep, I realized Caroline was sleeping next to me and remembered that at some point in the middle of the night, she had gotten up and I got up with her and brought her to bed.  I woke Kenta up to either grab the boys or Caroline (at this point both Abby and Caroline were still asleep....and I wanted it to stay that way).  So ran off to put the boys back in bed while I put Caroline in her crib.  Then I went into the kids' room.  Thomas and his friend were back in bed, but not back to sleep yet.  Our little pal was crying that he missed his mommy and Thomas was crying because his friend missed his mommy.

So, I once again began soothing the little guy back to sleep.  It took a bit longer, but he finally quieted down and fell asleep.  I had *almost* made it out the door when I heard,

"Mommy...I'm hungry."

Doh!  NO!!!  The sun's not even up! Go back to sleep!  I thought to myself.  I was desperate for more sleep myself at this point, so I climbed in with Thomas and snuggled with him.  Thankfully, he forgot his hunger and fell back asleep.

45 minutes after the first knock, I was back in bed.

I wish I could say that everyone slept in and I recovered from the chopped up night of sleep....but I did not.  Not gonna lie.  It was a rough, rough day.  But you know what?  I was happy to do it.  Happy to help a friend in need.  And her little guy was a TROOPER.  He hadn't ever done a sleepover before and he was superb.  A little sadness is totally normal.  But he fell back asleep both times.  And was the only one that slept in in the morning.  Go figure.  No matter how sleep-deprived, my kids are allergic to sleeping in.  Just like their mom.

But as rough as my night was, my friend had it rougher - she delivered an ELEVEN pound baby!  Wow!  I mean every word of it when I say I got the better end of it last night.

30 for 30: Day 24

I got a little over my head with today's random act of kindness!  Thank goodness for kind neighbors who are ready and willing to lend a helping hand.  It really does take a village sometimes!

I had offered up my services to an expectant friend of mine in town who was due any day with a baby. Our circle of friends is close - but shrinking!  So many wonderful people have been moving away.  Anyhow.....because of that, we are a little "short-staffed" when it comes to the emergency "oh-my-gosh-I'm-in-the-hospital-having-a-baby-and-need-someone-to-take-my-kids!!!!" department.  This particular friend was *positive* baby was going to hold out and wait for Grandma to show up from Korea.  As I'm quite familiar with, baby had plans of her own.  She wanted to already get acquainted with the world before Grandma came.  So, my friend sent out a few frantic texts trying to find someone to meet her daughter off the bus and take her kids for the evening.  Lucky for her, I've SO been in that Waiting For Baby mode (and recently!), so I remember the stress of it.  I was only too happy to help.  And lucky for me, I have an AWESOME neighbor that was willing to sit with sleeping kiddos so I could shuttle my friends' kids around.

Like I said - it takes a village.  And I overcame my fear of asking for help.  Like, I was ready to wake up two sleeping girls and drag them with me and thought, "Nah.  That's stupid".  And my neighbor is always offering to help.  So maybe it was a kind gesture toward her as well?  I don't know.  I was just grateful to be able to help a friend in need!

30 for 30: Day 23

Another thank you note day!

This time I changed it up a bit and wrote a note to a parent that I felt was truly supportive of their daughter and her involvement in church youth activities.  As a parent, I know my kids save some of their worst behavior (and best....I get to see the best of them, too) for me.  Sometimes it's hard for me to remember just what great kids they are, especially after a particularly difficult day.

I imagine this will continue through their teenage years and beyond.  Because parents see the best AND the worst, it's sometimes easy for them (us!) to forget just how good they are.  This particular parent really has done a great job with their child.  She is so kind and conscientious.  She's always seeking out that one person that may be feeling a little left-out or excluded and wrapping their arms around them (literally and figuratively) to help them feel welcomed and accepted.  And she is fabulous with kids.  Mine just adore her. It's just amazing to see her in action.  I'm sure much of that comes by nature, but I know enough to know that a lot of that is taught at home.

I usually don't know much about what happens after I send out one of my thank you notes, but I did get a "thank you for your thank you note" from this parent.  I think they were really surprised by it.  And, according to the daughter - it completely made their day!  Yay!

30 for 30: Day 22

Back to my old thank you note trick today.  You can only take so many artistic pictures of thank you notes on instagram....so I just skipped the photographic documentation.

Today's thank you note recipient was another young woman that I work with in our church youth program.  Do you know people who do wonderful, thoughtful things, but kind of fly under the radar and probably don't receive any kind of recognition for it?  That's what this sweet girl is like.  She's just always thinking of others and always wants to help and be a friend.  It truly makes my job as their mentor easier, knowing that she is reaching out to the other girls and lifting them up.

I'm really, really grateful she is a part of our group.  I know how much the other girls love her.  And I love her, too.  So, I let her know it.  Of course. :)

30 for 30: Day 20

Sometimes a random act of kindness can be as easy as giving up something you love FOR someone you love even more.

Went to a baby shower tonight.  Someone had brought the most delicious chocolate covered strawberries.  Kenta and I had made a pact that tonight we could break our month-long drought of sweets.  When it was time to leave the shower, someone had placed the very last strawberry on my empty cookie platter.  Ohhhh...it looked so tantalizingly tasty.  And after a month of having to say NO to sweets, I was shoveling anything sweet within arm's reach down my gullet with reckless abandon.

But I saved it.  For Kenta.  Because I love him just that much.

30 for 30: Day 19

We've lived in our house for over two years now.....and we barely know our neighbors.  Shame on us.  Other than the occasional  "hello!" when we see them outside, we've kind of been terrible about reaching out to them to get to know them.

No more!  We invited our next door neighbor over and had a great dinner and a lovely conversation with him.  He's an older, single man who has lived in his house for nearly three decades.  He fled WWII Greece as a young child and ended up seeking political asylum with his family in the northeastern United States.  He had such an interesting life and a truly, unique perspective (I mean, how many of us know WWII refugees?  Not that many any more), so to hear him talk about his childhood and coming to America was completely fascinating.  I want to know more people like him.  I want my children to know more people like him.  And I'm definitely kicking myself quite a bit now that we haven't invited him over sooner.  We'll definitely be making it a point to have him over more often!

30 for 30: Day 18

Have you ever given a stranger a random compliment?  I try and do this as often as possible.  And I've found the best place to do this is the check-out line at the grocery store.

Does the cashier have a really cute pair of glasses?  I make sure and let her know.  Does the bagger have a really cool name on his name tag ?  I tell him so.  Why withhold a compliment?  I know I always feel a little bit better when someone says something nice to me.  Even if it's something as simple as, "hey - cute shoes!".  It always helps me lift my head a little higher and walk a little taller.  In fact, I was just discussing with a friend today how sometimes I will purposely dress nice on a day when I feel crappy because I'm counting on people complimenting me to help me feel better (high five, Jackie - great minds think alike).  Shallow?  Perhaps.  But it works.  Anyway.....

So, when I was at Costco today - with all three kids in tow - I found myself approaching the checkout line, groaning because there were a TON of people checking out at the same time as me.  But before I could get too grumpy about it, I remembered, "Hey!  This is COSTCO!  They get people through the lines quickly.  They are efficient and capable.  I'll be through the checkout line and out to the car in less than five minutes" (of course once I get to the car and get everyone settled in and all the groceries put away, that's like twenty more minutes...but I digress...).

Remembering how skilled the cashiers and "boxers" (no bags at Costco) are, I decided to let them know how thankful I was for how well they do their job.  They seemed a bit surprised by my praise - the cashier even laughed a little and said something like, "Well, it's not rocket science.  It's really easy to scan things..." - to which I replied, "No, no!  I've tried self-check out!  It's not as easy as it looks!"

Then she told me a secret.  Turns out self check-out is even screwy for the most skilled Costco employees.  Who knew?  So, don't think you are stupid if you have trouble working the self check-out.  They are fickle little things.  I felt about 95% better about myself after that conversation.  I always thought I was dumb because I suck at self check-out.

So we both left that little conversation feeling a little better about ourselves.  Win.

30 for 30: Day 17

Today's RAOK actually made me really nervous.  Like, really nervous.  So far, I've been mostly doing RAOK for people that I know, but today I decided to do something completely anonymous.

I wrote one of my infamous notes and left it tucked under a windshield wiper of a car in the gym parking lot.  I forgot to take a picture of the note, but I considered taking a quick pic of it on the car.  Then I realized I really didn't want to get caught, so the best thing to do would be to leave the note quickly and run.

So, no pic for today.

And my hands were seriously shaking.  I have no idea why I was so nervous - there aren't that many people milling around the gym parking lot at 5:45 a.m.  And I was also a little nervous thinking about how the recipient would react and which car/person needed my note the most that morning.  Since I can't even pretend to know of such things, I said a quick prayer, scanned the lot and settled on a minivan a few spaces from me.  I have no idea who drives it and probably never will.  But hopefully they smiled a little when they read my "Go YOU!  Way to get up in the morning and work out!  I hope your day is fabulous!" (that was basically the gist of it) note.

And as nervous as I was, this may be my favorite RAOK yet because, well, it was extremely random.  It ended up being so fun, I might do it again :)

30 for 30: Day 16

Have you ever known someone with a talent or strength that you admire and think, "Wow.  That is SO not something I would ever be good at, but I really appreciate how well they do it"?

That's how I feel about my neighbor and her yard.  It's beautiful.  She spends hours and hours in the spring and summertime in her flowerbeds, making everything look so nice.  My grandma, mom, and sister were blessed with the green thumb gene.  I was not.  If it doesn't scream at me for food or water, I will likely not remember to feed/water it.

I will never have a flowerbed like my neighbors.  I don't even want a flowerbed like hers because the thought of keeping all of those plants alive really stresses me out.

But you know what?

I love and appreciate that she cares so much about the plants in her yard and works so hard to maintain it.

So I let her know it.  Anonymously, of course.

As an aside: do you try and disguise your handwriting when you write an anonymous note?  I do.  Then I take a look at it and realize, "oh.  This is just my normal handwriting.  Only legible".  Hahaha!

30 for 30: Day 15

I seem to be making a lot of cookies lately.....it's become my other "go-to" RAOK, along with the thank you notes.

Giving out cookies has resulted in a lot of people requesting my cookie recipe.  And guess what?  I'm posting it here:

The recipient of the latest batch of cookies that we made was for a custodian at our gym.  She is SUCH a nice lady and my kids love her.  She seemed a little down when I talked to her last, so the kids and I devised a plan to make her some cards and cookies and deliver them to her to bring a little cheer.  Thomas almost foiled our plans for a random act of kindness when he picked the plate of cookies up and tipped all the cookies out in the bottom storage compartment of our stroller, but a sub-10 second cookie pick up got all the cookies back on the plate, practically germ-free (it's okay....she totally saw all the cookie spillage happen and laughed as we frantically scooped them back up.  Then she ate one and thought it was delicious, so no harm done - haha!).

And all this talk of cookies reminds me that I need to post the recipe.  Without further ado:

Chocolate Chip Cookies (courtesy of Mrs. Fields)

1 lb. butter (do NOT use margarine), softened to room temperature (NOT completely melted!)

2 c. brown sugar

1 1/2 c. sugar

3 eggs

2 tsp. vanilla

1 1/2 tsp. soda

1 1/2 tsp. salt

6 c. flour

2-3 c. chocolate chips (I use one bag - I think it's something like 12 oz. - and that is PLENTY)

Cream butter and sugars.  Add eggs and vanilla and beat.  Mix in the dry ingredients.  Bake at 350 degrees for 8-10 minutes.*  Let cool on the cookie sheet. Makes a lot of cookies (like, close to 5 dozen or so), so feel free to freeze the dough or bake all the cookies at once and freeze the ones that survive after the first day.  They taste just as tasty and fresh when you pull them out of the freezer.  The hardest part is waiting for them to thaw out so you can eat them :). 

That's the basic recipe....here are some tips I've learned:

* I like my cookies done a little on the "raw side" - if they are undercooked, they will continue to cook as they sit on the cookie sheet.  And when they are completely cool, they will be soft and chewy.  They are extremely messy to eat warm when you undercook them, so keep that in mind.  The undercooking method is best for cookies that will be eaten when they are completely cool and a few hours old.  Each oven is a bit different, so you might have to tweak your cooking time.  The cookies shouldn't have any brown on them (maybe a *slight* browning on the bottom) BUT - they shouldn't be shiny in the middle, either (that's a little too undercooked).  Like I said, it might take a bit of experimenting.  After making them a few times, you'll figure out what they should look like.  

A few other notes....after I mix the dough, I roll all of it into balls and stick them all on one cookie sheet in the freezer to set.  After about ten minutes or so, they are hard enough that you can "pop" them off the cookie sheet.  You can go ahead and cook them all at this point, or just some of them and freeze the rest, or stick them all in a freezer bag to cook later.  If you do pull them out of the freezer to cook, let them sit out for about 20 minutes or so.  The dough should be cold and firm when you put them in the oven, but not rock solid like you just pulled them out of the freezer.  The cool dough helps the cookies keep a thicker shape when you cook them.

Also - you might find that your cookies are a bit flat.  I've gone back and forth on whether or not the egg size makes a difference.  I used to just use the XL eggs that I get at costco, but it seemed like they make the dough too soft and "wet".  So I buy large eggs just for cookies - ha!  And I add just a bit extra flour to make the dough a little less wet and a little more firm - but you don't want it TOO dry and crumbly.  Like I said, it will take some experimenting, but once you've got it down to an art, you can tell what the dough should look like just by eyeballing it, using the 6 c. of flour as a general guideline.

Whew!  I think that's the basic recipe, plus all the tips I've learned from years and years of making them. 

Don't worry if all the extra tips overwhelm you.  Even if you follow the basic recipe and don't do all the little tricks that I do, you will have some very tasty cookies.

30 for 30: Day 14

I was panicking today when I realized I didn't know what I was going to do.  I usually try and plan something out beforehand, but all I had planned for the day was a nice run in the morning and non-stop busy-ness at home for the rest of the day.  It was just a busy, busy day.  The kind where you hardly see your spouse all day.  And I was alone at home with the kids.  And the one RAOK I had sort of planned out didn't happen because - who knew? - the public library is CLOSED the Saturday before Memorial Day.

Anyway, since I knew I was going to be out on a run and that would essentially be the only time away from home, I took advantage of that time to seek out people to be kind to.  I have a philosophy about early morning exercisers - we are all cut from the same cloth.  Maybe we are morning people by nature or forced into it out of necessity (i.e. working out taking priority over sleeping in).  Whatever the case may be, early morning exercisers are MY PEOPLE.  It takes a certain kind of person to want to get up early on a Saturday morning and lace up their running shoes.  Especially a Saturday that was drizzly and cool (though I thought it was *perfect* running conditions).  Since I feel a special kinship with these people, I went out of my way to give a hearty "HELLO!" and "GOOD MORNING!" to every passer-by that braved this unseasonably drizzly and cool Saturday morning.

Not gonna lie - some Saturdays I look at my alarm clock and think, "Why....?".  And then I'm reminded of this:

Yeah.  So true.  No matter how crappy the run, I never regret having gone out to do it.  I only regret not going to bed earlier the night before. 

30 for 30: day 13

Whipped up a batch of my extra super tasty chocolate chip cookies to give to the fine ladies that keep our gym daycare running day after day.  Some mornings it is an absolute zoo in there, but even at it's most chaotic, there is a sense of order.  Really, these women are the cream of the crop.  In fact, I'm pretty sure my kids like them more than they like me.  When I drop them off, the first thing Abby says is "Where's B's mommy?".  And before she can even complete the question, she has grabbed a book and is running over to her.  So, to  B's mommy and all the other "mommies" (the kids call any adult female a "mommy") - THANK YOU.   I owe my sanity to them and the hour that they spend with my children every weekday so I can have some time to workout.

And not to toot my own horn, but everyone tells me my chocolate chip cookies are awesome.  The secret, I tell ya - undercook them!  Yank those puppies out of the oven before there is even a hint of brown on them.  They won't hold up well if you want to eat them warm, but once they cool...ohhhh....there's no comparison.  They are divine.

30 for 30: Day 12

Aside from letter writing, it seems my next "go-to" RAOK is offering to watch people's kids.  Lucky for me, I know a lot of people with kids that need watching.

I actually helped out a friend today so she could help out another friend (so, kind of a RAOK ripple effect thingy going on).  We love having this particular buddy over because he plays well with Thomas and Abby and is just hysterically funny in almost every single way.  As it turned out, it ended up being a short play-date.  I was just slathering on my first slather of peanut butter when his mom showed up.  We couldn't send the poor child on his way when I had promised delicious peanut butter sandwiches for all.  So I made my weekday lunch special (we have PB&J every.single.day).  I really won't know what to do with myself if any of my kids have a nut allergy.  Probably cry.

Speaking of crying....

This might be another item that falls under the category of "I wiped my kid's butt", but we have been enduring a mighty struggle with 2 yr. molars that refuse to just COME IN ALREADY.  It's making my normally happy child act more like this:

than this:

Yeah.  We've seen far too few of those happy and content moments around here these past few weeks. So, my other RAOK for the day was that I was extra super patient with her when she spent almost the entire day in tantrum mode.  Giving myself a gold star for that one.

30 for 30: Day 11

It was more missionary mail today!  I'm seeing a trend here.  It seems the days that everything gets hectic and things don't go as planned, I resort to writing notes or letters to people as my RAOK.  But everyone loves a good handwritten letter, right?  Goodness knows I do.

This time we were writing our beloved former baby-sitter and friend, Sister N.  Last fall when she was off at her first semester of college, we called her to wish her a happy 19th birthday.  Knowing that she was wanting to serve an LDS mission, we were both lamenting that she had two more years before she would be able to leave.  The very next day, she was sitting in the Conference Center in Salt Lake City when President Monson announced that the ages for missionaries would be lowered - sisters could serve at 19!  Let's not talk about how insanely jealous I was after that.  Let's just talk about how it was a birthday wish come true and how Sister N. was totally and completely prepared to go when the opportunity unexpectedly came.

A few short months later, we were with this same missionary and her family when she opened her call.  It was so awesome to be a part of that experience and memories of myself opening my own mission call flooded over me.  A few months after that, she was off.

Luckily, Caroline decided to (finally) be born two weeks before Sister N. left.  We were getting concerned there at the end, but decided it was highly unlikely that I'd still be pregnant at 44 weeks (thankfully, I wasn't).

We went to see her one last time the day before she took off.  We miss her bunches and bunches, but are so happy for her and the service she is giving as a missionary.  It's fun to have missionaries to write again!

30 for 30: Day 10

The weather threatened to spoil my RAOK plans for today - as in, I was praying it would rain so I could skip our youth activity (which was supposed to be canoeing) and attend the choir concert of one of my young women.  The rains came, canoeing was canceled, and off to the choir concert I went.

I'm a bit of a music snob (okay...I'm a HUGE music snob) and was really didn't know what to expect.  It was a great concert, though!  The kids sang great, the music was really fun (it was a pops concert) and I was just totally blown away by the talent of some of the soloists.

The best part?  Seeing my YW, standing up on the bleachers waiting for the first song to start and she gave our group ( two other YW and myself) an eyebrow raise and I smile.  A close second would be watching her sing.  It's amazing how music can transform you when you become completely enveloped in it.

30 for 30: Day 9

Today I got to the gym early enough to do what I tried (and failed) to do last Monday - show up early to spin class to set all of the spin bikes up.  A small act of kindness - yes, I know - but considering this spin instructor is the exact same woman that tries to kill me every Friday morning at boot camp, I considered it quite a benevolent act to set up the class for her.

And I couldn't mention acts of kindness without saying something about the catastrophic tornado in Oklahoma today.  Such a tragic event.  I was there in the days after the big tornado in May 1999 to help with the clean up.  It really takes standing in a pile of debris that used to be a house to really appreciate the devastation Mother Nature can create.  Wishing I was there with my fellow Sooner-staters to help with the clean up and donation collections and so forth.  For those that are helping with the relief and rescue efforts: THANK YOU.  For now, we continue to pray and show our support for the Sooner state.

We love you, Oklahoma!

30 for 30: Day 8

I really wanted leftovers for dinner tonight.  Like, I made sure I had plenty of dinner fixed last night so it would carry us through tonight as well.  If anyone asks me what my favorite thing is for dinner, I always tell them "Leftovers!".  Because leftovers = I don't have to cook anything.

But someone really wanted baked ziti tonight.  Really wanted it.  And I might have mentioned that I had the ingredients for it and was planning on making it at some point this week.

So baked ziti it was.

The things I do for love.  Random act of kindness?  Check.

30 for 30: Day 7

Ha!  So Kenta told me that nobody reads this blog anymore.  Yeah - that's fine.  I quit doing it for awhile because I was getting frustrated with how long it was taking to write up a post, so now I'm trying to take a different approach.  I suck at journaling, but I actually enjoy blogging.  If I'm the only person that ends up reading this stuff, that's good enough for me.  I just need to do a better job of documenting stuff in our life.

Day 7 of 30 for 30 was a really busy day.  We had some friends moving across town and I offered to have their kids over to play while the rest of their stuff was being moved to their new house.  Their 3 yr. old plays great with Thomas and Abby, so it was a no-brainer.  Of course they were going to come here!  And I was a little worried about what the 9 yr. old would do, but as it turns out, 9 yr. old girls loooooove to hold babies.  So it was a win-win situation.

It's hard to believe that these two buddies used to butt heads quite a bit in the church nursery.  In fact, I'm sorry to say, but this particular little friend was Thomas's #1 target when he was going through his "vampire" phase.  Wow.  So glad that's over.  But now they get along smashingly.

And Abby just throws herself right into the mix.  Most of the time, things are great....but you know that saying, "three's a crowd"?  Yes.  Definitely some truth to that.

As I recall, somebody was shoved off right after this picture was taken.

30 for 30: Day 6

Today I packed up the kids and headed over to the local high school to watch a middle school track meet to watch one of my young women run her event.  We've been to a few, but have never stayed to the end.  We got there just in time to watch her run the mile...but her coach pulled her from the mile....and the 800....the only event she ended up running was the 4x400 relay.  The very.last.event.of.the.day.  We ended up staying there for three hours.  I didn't take a single picture of the kids because

1) I forgot

2) I was trying to keep Caroline happy

3) I was busy wiping Abby's nose every twelve seconds

Thankfully, the kids LOVE to run around at track meets.  It was a gorgeous day.  I had packed plenty of snacks knowing that we were going to be there for awhile, but as the afternoon wore on, it was evident I was going to have to hit up the concession stand for some popcorn.  Two bags of buttery popcorn kept the kids occupied for the last hour while we waited to cheer for our runner.  She did great and her team qualified for the state championship.  I'm so glad the kids held it together for that long.  When we got home?  Different story.  They completely fell apart.  I had just enough energy left to get them to bed.  Then I treated myself to a bowl of cereal for dinner.

30 for 30: Day 5

Had a little trouble seeking out opportunities to perform a RAOK today, so I hit up the ol' RAOK blog for some ideas.  One suggestion was to return a shopping cart to its proper place (the stall or back inside the store).  This is like one of my #1 pet peeves at the store - ESPECIALLY when someone abandons their cart one parking space away from the stall.  It irks me to no end.  The only time I even consider not returning the cart is if it's pouring down rain and I'm parked in the nethermost regions of the Costco parking lot with screaming children in the car.  I fail at most everything in life, but one thing I really excel at is returning shopping carts.

Anyway, I had a kidless evening to run some errands, so I decided to take my quest for a RAOK to the Costco parking lot.  I got there about 15 minutes before they closed and knew I could be in and out in less than 10 minutes (the beauty of kid-free shopping - I can get my entire errand done in the time it takes me to get everyone out of their carseat and inside the store).  With a couple of minutes to spare, I went back to the car, returned my cart and grabbed all the carts that were scattered about the section of the parking lot I was parked in.  I saw the Costco employee that was collecting the carts come out to the parking lot as I was finishing up.  There were still tons of carts everywhere that still needed to be collected, but I had another errand to run and didn't have time.  I doubt he even realized that I had cleared a section of the parking lot from abandoned carts, but that's okay.  It felt good to help out, even in such a small way.

Also - this might fall under the category of "wiping kids' butts" (a.k.a. things that shouldn't be counted as random acts of kindness), but I pushed Abby on the swing for 45 minutes at the park today.  And I really don't like pushing swings.  But how could I say no to a face like this?

30 for 30: Day 4

I've spent most of my "free" time (a.k.a. nap time) holed up in my room frantically trying to finish up a book for literature group tonight, and I realized that I haven't done any random act of kindness yet today. Oops. Better get on that. I was, however, the recipient of a RAOK when, after about fifteen failed attempts to back the minivan up and get my left wheel into that little thingamajig that scoots your car along, a kind soul in line behind me got out of his car and walked into the car wash to help me get my van lined up straight. I guess I hadn't realized how long it's been since I've tried to take a car to the car wash. In fact, that may have been the first time in the History of Ever that I have attempted the car wash on my own.

 And I fear I didn't represent my home state well. I'm sure the kind stranger was looking at the OU decals on the back of the van thinking, "Has this idiot never seen a car wash in Oklahoma?". I guess that's what happens when you grow up washing your car in the driveway with a huge sponge and a bucket of soapy Palmolive water (probably not the best soap for a car, but we weren't too concerned about keeping our VW vans in tip top shape). So, thank you, kind sir for the RAOK. My dignity suffered quite a bit, but your helpfulness snapped me out of further subjecting my kids to a stream of Mormon cuss words.

 Oh. And I'm just remembering that I have done a RAOK today. A thank you note is on its way to a 17 yr. old girl that probably didn't even realize what a good deed she had done, but I witnessed it and was thankful for it. And I thought she should know about it :)

A year of Caroline

A year ago today (the day after Mother's Day!) we found out this little nugget was headed our way.  It took me the entire first trimester to finally convince myself that we were really going to have another baby. 

She's 3.5 months old now and I still can't believe it.  We just love having this sweet girl in our family.

30 for 30: Day 3

Three days in and I already hit my first Random Act of Kindess that Failed.  It was a valiant attempt at a RAOK, but in the end, I just didn't end up being very helpful.

I called up a friend to wish her a happy birthday and thought, "What could I do to help this friend today?  A-ha!  I could watch her daughter at the park so she can have some time to herself to get stuff done".  I was totally patting myself on the back for arranging the perfect service opportunity.

HA!  I guess I forgot to think about possibilities such as, "What if this child doesn't like me and screams for twenty minutes straight after her mom leaves the park?".  Oops, definitely didn't see that one coming.  Try as I might, she wanted NOTHING to do with me.  Thankfully, an awesome mom friend of mine was at the park, too, and she scooped up the little girl and saved the day.  So, fail on my part, but the service was accomplished and the mom was thankful (and the little girl did eventually settle down and enjoy some downtime on the swings).

Another opportunity to watch a friend's child presented itself that day, so on the way home from the park, we picked up Thomas's little friend from her house and brought her over to our house to play.

Judging from the mess in the playroom, I think it's safe to say that the kids had fun together.  Since I'm usually homebound in the afternoon during nap time, it was nice to still be able to help someone out.

30 for 30: Day 2

Do you have a sibling that you don't talk to very often? I do. I gave her a call today and had a nice chat with her - probably the longest conversation I've had with her in nearly a year. Kind of lame that I'm counting talking on the phone to my sister as a RAOK, but it was random for me to be calling (didn't have a reason to call, other than I hadn't talked to her in awhile) and I'm hopeful that she thought it was kind. Maybe it was just a random act of randomness. Either way, had a good talk with my big sis. Also - I got the kids on board with the RAOK thing and we wrote letters to their cousin/my nephew who is six months into his service as an LDS missionary.  It's really crazy when I write him letters because he used to write me letters when I was a missionary.  And the kids love writing letters to cousin Willy.

 

I mean, what 19 yr. old kid doesn't get excited about a drawing of rainbows and lawnmowers by his 4 yr. old cousin?

 

 Love having these little helpers helping me with my RAOKs.

30 for 30

So I'm turning 30 next month. In 30 days, to be exact. I've been trying to think of all kinds of ways I could commemorate such a huge event in my life (and, yes...30 seems really mega huge to me). Somewhere I heard about someone celebrating their 30th by doing 30 random acts of kindness on their birthday. It inspired me to consider doing the same. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it would probably be impossible for me to get 30 random acts squeezed into one day. Such is life when you are a stay at home mom - I don't have a whole lot of human interaction during the day, except for my family and, well, it felt a little like cheating to count things like "I wiped my kid's butt" and "I wiped my other kid's butt" as random acts of kindness. That's just part of my job as a mom. Plus there is really nothing random or kind about butt-wiping.

 So I hatched a plan. Instead of 30 random acts squeezed into one day, I'm going to spread the randomness and kindness over 30 days. Each day leading up to my birthday, I'll be looking for opportunities to do a RAOK. I'm SO looking forward to doing it and I really hope it opens my eyes up to the opportunities I have around me to help others. I'm ashamed to say it...but being the 8th kid of 9 has kind of crippled me in a way. I grew up having people mostly doing things for ME instead of me doing things for THEM. As a result, I'm sometimes kind of oblivious to people around me that are needing help. I'm hopeful that 30 days of making an effort to be aware of the needs of others will help me become more service-oriented.

 So here I am at the start! It's Mother's Day today, and I've enjoyed having my family pamper me. It was also a great opportunity for me to reach out to some moms that may not have been given the attention they deserve on this special day. The kids and I picked out some flowers to take to our neighbor for Mother's Day. Thomas made her a card and insisted we take cookies as well. I also dropped off some chocolate and a card to a mom I know from church that I thought could use a little extra love today.

 I'm hoping I can make a quick post each day to document the RAOK I've been able to do. I've been searching for ideas and found this website. Who knew there was an entire website dedicated to ideas for RAOK? Well, there is. Which is good because I can already see myself on Day 5 thinking, "uh...okay...now what?".

 Let the countdown begin!

Back in the saddle

I've started running again.  I guess I should say I've started "running" (imagine that word surrounded by air quotes) again.  I forget how humbling it is to start back up after some time off.  Today I ran 7 miles.  Not too long ago, 7 miles was a "psssshhh.....that's nothing" kind of distance for me.  This is what 7 miles looked like today:
 
Yeah.  Not pretty at all.  It was a struggle. But I did it! One mile further than last week and the longest run I've completed since probably August last year. Happy to be out running real distances, but looking forward to it becoming second nature again.

Deja Vu

Celebrating 3 months of sweet baby Caroline today. Thought it would be fun to do a little comparison between 3 month Caroline and 3 month Abigail. Lucky for me, they were born in the same season and are wearing all the same clothes. Don't know if they'll like the hand-me-down arrangement ten years from now, but for now, it's really handy. And they aren't complaining. Without further ado...
 

I actually don't think the girls look too much alike. I mean, obviously they are wearing the exact same outfit, so that's very much alike. But their actual faces? Very distinct. It'll be fun to see if they start to resemble each other more as they get older, kind of like Thomas and Abby have. It was so weird when Abby was born. She looked NOTHING like Thomas did. When Caroline came along, she had a little more familiar look to her, but it definitely wasn't "oh, you look just like Thomas" or "oh, you look just like Abigail". She was just somewhere in between. I guess that's what happens when two people with seemingly non-dominant genes make kids. None of them really resemble either of us that strongly (at least, that's what we think), but look just enough like us that you can tell that they are ours. Which means we probably couldn't "accidentally" drop one off at the circus when it's in town. Haha...you know I'm kidding. We love our crazy kids.  And we couldn't accidentally leave them anywhere.  The decrease in the amount of noise would be instantly noticeable.

So...how 'bout I blog about a birth??

Been looking for a good excuse to resurrect this little blog of ours.  Lucky for me, I conveniently had a baby a few weeks ago.  And every baby has a birth story.  And I LOVE to tell a good story.  Just be warned, though - if the use of words, such as "poop" and "mucous plug" are offensive to  you, this ain't the story for you (but, c'mon - it's about BIRTH - what do you expect???).  Without further ado...

Caroline’s pregnancy was easily the easiest I’ve had of my three children.  Not a single day of morning sickness.  No nausea or food aversions or extreme tiredness.  I was basically the pregnant woman that every pregnant woman hates (or at least the pregnant woman I hated when I was puking my guts up the entire first trimester I was pregnant with Thomas).  I ran up until I was about 38 weeks pregnant and only had to stop when it became too uncomfortable because of the head jammed into my pelvis – not because my body gave out (like it did with Abby at 30 wks).  I felt great and had great energy all the way until the end. 

After going past 41 weeks with Abby, I had a feeling Caroline would not come before her due date and probably not even until about the same 41 wk. mark when Abby came.  So when my due date passed, I wasn’t anxious.  I was still smiling, still going to the gym, not bothered by answering everyone’s “when are you due??” and “you haven’t had that baby yet??” questions.  41 wks came and I still had the smile, but could feel some anxiousness creeping in.  Once I passed 41+1 (the date at which I had Abby) I really started to worry.  I was becoming increasingly irritated by people asking me why I wasn’t being induced, asking me if it was still safe to be pregnant, etc.  I was hopeful that baby was just holding on until my little brother’s birthday on January 31^st.  After all, I had been telling people since August that the baby was due “sometime between mid-late January”.  So when I woke up on Feb. 1^st, STILL pregnant, I went completely crazy pants.  Didn't this baby know it was supposed to come in JANUARY???  Suffice it to say, I was not in a good place.  

I had been trying to keep up my daily routine to keep my mind off of The Wait, but I had a breakdown that morning.  I had gotten ready to take the kids to the gym, but instead of going downstairs to help the kids put their shoes on, I went into the bedroom and sobbed.  For twenty minutes, I just let it all out.  I had woken up that morning, terrified that something was wrong with the baby that was keeping him/her from coming.  I knew I had my first NST (non-stress test) scheduled for the following Monday (42+1) and I was terrified that the baby would fail the NST and that we would have to be admitted to the hospital and I would have to have a repeat c-section.  So many worries were surfacing, so I just let it all out.  Thankfully Kenta stayed home from work that day and took care of the kids while I cried and cried and cried.  I messaged Autumn, the midwife that was on call, to let her know that, mentally, I was a wreck and needed to talk some of my fears out.  She called me right away.  It was SUCH a relief talking to her on the phone.  She told me the emotions I was feeling were just a normal part of preparing for the birth.  I had been feeling absolutely fine until I lost it that day.  She calmed my fears about the NST, telling me that more often than not, the NST shows that the baby is thriving and doing just fine.  We discussed a few options for gently inducing labor (stripping membranes, blue cohosh, etc.) and said if I wanted to do any of that, it was certainly up to me.  I decided I would wait through the weekend, see what the results of the NST were, and go from there.  I had a 42 week appointment scheduled with my midwife the day after the NST, so I told myself “if I make it to that appointment, I’ll probably ask to have my membranes stripped”.   The phone conversation with Autumn left me in a really good place, but I was still pregnant and was losing faith that my body would figure out how to start labor on its own.  It was terribly hard to go that far post dates when most everyone I knew was  telling me, “You’re crazy!  Why aren’t you getting induced????”.  Even random old men at the gym had taken notice that I had been pregnant for an extraordinarily long time. I felt like maybe I was being a bit negligent and almost (as weird as this sounds) a bit selfish or prideful about my desire to have a natural birth and let the baby and my body do what they needed to do on their own timetable.

Another reason I was feeling anxious about not having had a baby by February 1^st was that my mom was coming that evening.  I had made NO plans for what to do with her because, well, baby was supposed to have already been born.  My mom went through childbirth nine times, but I really wasn't sure if she or I were comfortable with the idea of her hanging around the house while I had the baby.  I'm not a very "zen" person during childbirth - having an audience was not really part of my plans.  We had made arrangements for the kids many weeks previously.  I knew I couldn’t have them around because I didn't want to scare them.  Before my mom came, I thought, “I really, really, really don’t want her there”.  But once we picked her up, I thought, “I don’t really care who is in the house.  I just want this baby OUT”.  And, honestly, it was making me more anxious trying to figure out what to do with her.  So we had some back up plans for my mom if she or I got too uncomfortable, but we decided to take a "wait and see" approach.

Sunday, February 3^rd, I was 42 weeks pregnant.  I had said a few days before that I didn’t want to go to church and see people if I was still pregnant, but I ended up changing my mind.  I figured if I just went to the first hour, I could at least get the spiritual uplift without having to talk to people (you don't really want to see or talk to people when you are 42 weeks pregnant.  Even people you really, really like.  Trust me.).  So I left church and went home to chill by myself for a few hours.  It was nice to have a few hours alone.  Did I rest at all?  Nope.  In fact Kenta and I skyped with my sister in Australia that evening and didn't end up going to bed until just after midnight.  At this point, I had given up the hope that spontaneous labor would start any time soon.  I had developed a bad habit of staying up pretty late because every day was seeming like the day before.  I was, essentially, living Groundhog Day.  Every morning I woke up, fully refreshed...and not in labor.  But - finally!- something changed that night.  

I woke up around 2:00 in the morning to go to the bathroom.  Then I woke up again around 3:30 a.m. with my first contraction.  It was a real, legit, LABOR contraction.  I kicked myself a little for not having gone to bed earlier.   Keeping true to my tendency to procrastinate, I decided it would probably be a good idea to start gathering odds and ends of things I should have had together at least two weeks before – baby blankets and clothes and hats and such.  I timed contractions and woke Kenta up around 4:30 to let him know that we were going to need to start filling the birth tub.  He told me to wake him up again in half an hour.  We started filling the tub around 5:00 and I panicked a little when I realized that it was going to take a little while to get the tub filled, due to the limited capacity of our hot water heater.  So I freaked out and had Kenta boil water in pots and bring them up the stairs to the birth room (the kids' room). I really did not want to be without that tub when I was in labor.  I NEEDED that tub.  The thought of laboring without it petrified me.  Contractions were still holding pretty steady, around 4-8 minutes apart, lasting around 40 seconds.  I had Kenta page the midwife at 7:00 (Adrian, the other midwife, was now on call) to let her know that I was in labor.   

Things were calm and manageable.  I had to breathe pretty deeply through contractions, but other than that, I was able to carry on pretty normally.  The kids woke up just after we called Adrian, so Kenta brought them downstairs and we discussed our plan for the day.  The kids had preschool at a friend's house at 10:30 that morning.  Mom was going to take them to preschool and then another friend was going to pick them up around noon and take them for the rest of the day, and possibly overnight.  I stayed upstairs for most of the time between when the kids woke up and when they left.  It was hard for them to understand that every few minutes, I couldn’t talk to them and just needed to breathe and be left alone.  Abby was particularly upset because I wouldn’t hold her.  I changed into my “birthing attire” (sports bra and bathrobe) and came downstairs for one last picture with the kids as a family of four before they headed off to school.  I tried not to think too much about how our family would change before I saw them next.  I’m getting a little emotional as I think about that moment now, but when they left, I was relieved to be able to concentrate on the work ahead of me.  

The tub was full at that point, and I wanted to climb in for a little to work through some contractions.  The water felt good.  TOO good.  I noticed that the contractions really fizzled out. I only had about three the whole 45ish minutes I was in there, and they weren’t very strong, so I climbed out.  I fully expected labor to taper off at that point in the day like my labor with Abby (which it did, right around the time the kids headed off to preschool), but I didn’t want to stop things completely.  I got out and came downstairs for a bit to chat with my mom.  Kenta left to get some lunch at Five Guys - he had decided months before that he wanted Five Guys for HIS "labor food".  Seriously - he might have been more excited about Five Guys than a new baby.  Anyway, I stayed at home in my bathrobe, did a little embroidery, talked to Mom, and breathed through contractions.  Kenta came home, offered me a french fry, I ate it, immediately regretted it (food just always sounds DISGUSTING to me while I'm in labor). I gave up on being social and excused myself to go upstairs to the kids' room and get some rest.  

Before I tried to take a nap, I took the opportunity during this lull in labor to finish an episode of Downton Abbey that I missed the night before.  When I finished, I thought, "Hmmm....I kind of forgot all about labor pain management...that might be good stuff to remember" and decided I should brush up on my Bradley relaxation techniques.  I grabbed the Bradley book and an extra pillow from our room (Kenta was asleep on our bed at that point…he claims he was updating his new phone or something, but, yeah -  he was totally asleep) and went and laid down on Thomas’s bed.  Between contractions, I practiced relaxed breathing and letting my body sink deep into the bed.  Initially, I timed the contractions, but it was getting really annoying having to grab my phone (yes!  there is an app for that!) and start  and stop them, so I just told myself, “forget it, this is my time to relax and breathe and rest.  No matter what I do, things are not going to pick up for awhile.  I need this chance to let my body get the rest it didn’t get last night”.  This was an important lesson I learned with Abby – I tried walking and moving to keep labor going in the middle of the day instead of resting.  So I laid in bed, breathing and visualizing my body sinking into the mattress from about 1:30-2:00ish to 3:30.  At about 3:30, I noticed I had gotten a facebook message from Autumn (who wasn’t on call anymore) because she had gotten an email from the paging system saying that I was in labor.  She wished me luck and I messaged her back telling her, “This is turning out to be a very Abby-esque labor so far. Things fizzled out around 10:00, so I took the opportunity to rest while contractions were light and manageable (I only got three hours of sleep last night...). So, here I am, bracing for things to pick up again. “  Not long after that, I had a contraction that lasted just a bit longer than anything I had had before.  It had another layer of intensity to it and I thought, “hmmmm….this might be the start of things picking up....”.  

Right around the time I had that contraction, the phone rang.  I was pretty sure it was Adrian calling to see how things were progressing.  I had the phone in my hand, but did not want to answer in case I got caught in another contraction.  I could hear Kenta practicing the piano in our bedroom, so I yelled at him to come get the phone.  While I was yelling at him, the phone rang again.  I was really mad that he couldn’t hear me.  We have an electronic keyboard with headphones and I knew he had the headphones on and couldn’t hear me, even though I was like ten steps down the hall from him.  I waited for the next contraction to pass, then I marched into the bedroom and reamed him out for having headphones on while I was in labor.  Then I told him Adrian called and he needed to call her back.  I then went to the bathroom and noticed that I there was A LOT of discharge.  I had been waiting to lose my mucous plug all afternoon, but had seen nothing.  This definitely looked like mucous to me (I told Kenta to tell Adrian that it was like “a big blob of snot”) – but there was no blood.  I was expecting blood.  So I was a little confused.  I then handed Kenta my phone and emphatically stated that it was HIS job to be timing my contractions.  He hadn’t done much of the “birth partner”-y stuff yet and this was annoying me (nevermind that I hadn’t asked him to do anything until that point….I think I was just mad that he had had the headphones on and that I had to come find him).  Looking back, I should have known things were about to get serious because of how quickly my attitude changed.  Poor Kenta had no idea that I had suddenly gone from "this is going to drag on forever" to "Umm...I REALLY NEED HELP NOW" until I started yelling at him about not answering the phone.  Ha!

Anyway, I told him to call Adrian back and tell her I thought I had lost my mucous plug and that contractions had picked up a little but were still 4-6 minutes apart and had only been that way for about 30 minutes (it was almost 4:00 at this time).    I felt a contraction coming on, so I quit chewing Kenta out and got on our bed in child’s pose (the most comfortable position I could find) and just let out some low vocalizations into the pillow.  I felt a little “pop!” and thought, “hmmmm…I remember feeling that in the tub with Abby and it HURT”.  I was pretty sure that my water had broken, so I stood up and a little water trickled out.  Again, I was confused because I thought there was supposed to be a big gush, not a little trickle.  I had Kenta call Adrian back and tell her that I thought my water had broken.  I went to the bathroom again. Gushed a little bit more water (Adrian asked Kenta if it was clear.  It was - a good sign).  Adrian had Kenta ask me when the last time I felt the baby move was.  I honestly had no idea but made a note to pay attention to it.  Turns out there wasn’t much time for that.  Contractions immediately jumped from 4-6 minutes to 2 minutes apart after my water broke.  Of course, Kenta took this moment (I have no idea why) to update me on some camera stuff he had been selling online.  He had sold a camera to a guy in Russia that supposedly had gotten lost in the Russian mail system (bummer), but had just found out that day that the guy actually ended up getting the camera.  At any other time, I would have been really happy and interested (because it really was good news), but when he was telling me all of this, all I could respond was, "Hm..oh. Uh-huh.  That's nice".  What I really wanted to say was, "I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID CAMERA.  CAN YOU NOT SEE I AM DYING HERE?????"

After the mucous plug incident, I had not completely flushed all the toilet paper down the toilet (and our toilet doesn’t have a very strong flush), so when I went to the bathroom again and flushed, I clogged the toilet.  Excellent time for me to lose my birth partner, due to him having to perform plumber duties. I was super annoyed because I wanted to go the bathroom AGAIN (seriously, I would have probably had that baby on the toilet, there was so much pressure on my tailbone I felt like I was constantly needing to poop), so I had to go use the downstairs bathroom while Kenta found the plunger and fixed the upstairs toilet.  

I had a contraction downstairs and declared that I was ready to get in the tub (Adrian had told me to hold off as long as possible).  I got in and I knew that this was IT.  My contractions were holding steady at about 2 - 2.5 minutes apart.  Just before 4:30, I had a wild contraction, looked at Kenta when it was over and said, “I am pushing.  I need to push”.  He kind of looked at me, a little terrified and said, “We can do this.  Push if you need to”.  At some point he had talked to Adrian again and she let him know that her assistant, Beth, was about ten minutes away.  I heard my mom  (who I had kind of forgotten about) yell something up the stairs like, “don’t push, Kendall!  Just pant, it’ll keep you from pushing until she gets here!”.  I was like, “No way, man.  This baby needs to come OUT”.  I did not want to delay it, even though Beth wasn’t there yet and Adrian was still at least 15 minutes behind.  After a couple of pushes, Beth showed up.  I was so relieved to see her come in.  I had been feeling for the baby’s head when I pushed and was worried that I was feeling something that wasn’t a head.  I had no idea what it was, but it didn’t feel like a head to me (seriously, how many baby heads have I felt?  What did I know?).  She took a look with a flashlight and said it was fine – it was a head and I was making great progress.  The next contraction was pretty intense.  I tried to push the baby out, but didn’t make it.  She told me that the baby was going to come out the next time and I thought, “YES.  I WILL MAKE THAT HAPPEN”.  I was so ready for it to be over.  So the next contraction I pushed and I pushed HARD.  I had been squatting and Beth kind of guided me on to my hands and knees as I was pushing (later, I found out it was to help unwrap a nuchal chord).  I remembered not wanting to be moved at all while I was pushing Abby out, but with this one, I could feel the baby coming out, so I was like, “Dude, move me wherever I need to go so this can be OVER”.  I felt the baby come out and it was instant relief.  Ahhh….relief.  I flipped over just in time to see my little baby girl get pulled out of the water and flopped on to my chest.

 

She just looked around and blinked.  I was a little worried because she had her mouth shut and I was like, “Breathe, baby!  Breathe!” (completely forgetting that, duh, she’s still getting oxygen from the chord).  But she was so silent and calm.  And big.  I couldn’t tell how big because Beth had wrapped a blanket over her.  Beth’s guess was “high 8’s, low 9’s”.  I told Kenta to call my mom up, and she came up from the downstairs and walked into the room with tears in her eyes.  It was really beautiful to see my mom so touched.  She was literally there within a minute or two of Caroline being born.  Despite having had nine children herself, Caroline was probably the “freshest squeezed” baby she had ever seen.  Doctors didn’t hand the babies immediately over to their moms back when my siblings and I were all born.  It was really a moment we’ll never forget.   When it was time to cut the chord we flipped Caroline over and got a good look at her for the first time.  When Beth saw her back chub, she said, “ohhh…wait.  This baby is more like a 10 pounder.”  It had been two years since I had been around this new of a newborn, so to me, she still seemed really small.

As we were getting things cleaned up, Adrian showed up.  She was sad to have missed all the action, but it was still so nice having her there.  Kenta filled her in on the details while I moved into the bedroom.  They weighed Caroline and I heard, “Ten pounds!”.  I actually would have been a little disappointed growing anything smaller, considering I had gestated her a week longer than even Abigail.  Adrian and Beth checked me out to see if I needed any stitches and, much to my delight, not a single one was necessary.  Kenta called our friend to bring the kids over.  When they got there, they sat on the bed with me and waited for my mom to bring her in.  They were infatuated.  They kept looking at her and pointing at her.  Abby was obsessed with her monkey blanket.  We took some video and pictures.  Right before it was time for the kids to head out and back to our friend's house for the night, Thomas asked me, “Mommy?  Did the poopy come out?”  Hahahaha….he had asked me the week before if the baby was going to break my tummy open.  When I told him no, he said, “Is the baby going to come out of your mouth?”.  I laughed and told him the baby was going to come out “like a big poopy”.  So, in true Thomas fashion – he did NOT forget to ask me about the poopy.

As I was thinking back and comparing Abigail’s birth with Caroline’s, I can’t help but notice the difference in emotions that I felt at the end.  With Abigail, I felt exhilaration – I felt so empowered, like I could do ANYTHING.  It was an amazing feeling.  Caroline’s birth was a bit different.  The best word I can think of was “relief”.  I was relieved she was here.  Relieved she was safe.  Relieved it was over.  Her pregnancy had been an easy one.  Too easy.   I had a sense of dread almost the entire nine plus months that something was wrong because things had been going so well.  The entire first trimester I worried because I had no queasiness and I spotted.  Her 20 week anatomy scan was a little wonky because the sonographer had my due date wrong and found measurements that may have indicated Down Syndrome (turns out I had passed the 20 week window when they should have taken these measurements.  I was 21 weeks and they were inaccurate).  Once we cleared up the due date confusion, the doctor was quick to tell me that everything was most likely normal.  But that seed of worry had been planted and I kept it in the back of my mind throughout the rest of the pregnancy.  And when I passed my due date, each day I woke up, not in labor, I thought I was risking myself out of being able to birth the baby at home.  There was just SO much anticipation, it caused my anxiety to skyrocket toward the end of the pregnancy.  Having her safe in my arms, I was finally able to take a deep breath.  So, not quite the same “I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR” kind of feeling that I had with Abby, but instead, just a quiet “ahhhh…she’s here.  She’s really, really here”.

I learned so many lessons waiting for Caroline and she was worth every second of the wait.  We love having this sweet little girl in our family!