Shout Out To All Our Peeps

A week or so ago I took a video of Eden at the park (swinging, of course). She wanted to say hi to all of her family and friends, so that is exactly what we did. (Sorry for the poor resolution - I accidentally set my camera to the wrong setting in my hurry to turn it on and capture what she was saying.)

As soon as Eden was finished and we turned the camera off, she realized that she had forgotten to say hi to Nell Nell's husband, Jared. So, at her insistence, we filmed a second video:

And, lastly, we have a video of Eden singing Old MacDonald Had A Cat:

We will not be winning an Academy Award (or a GRAMMY) anytime soon.

Checking In

I realize that the last post was a bit of a downer in a way, and even though I really don't have much to write tonight, I wanted to check in just to say that we are doing okay. And I mean okay in the best sense. Okay is quite good enough right now.

The last few days have been rough on my family. I'm not ready to get into the details at the moment, but as I mentioned before, our miscarriage has not been the only thing to grieve in the last two weeks. Right now, it is my brother who is really hurting, and of course, in whatever way we can, we are all hurting with him. Yesterday was an especially significant and difficult day. I thought I was prepared for it, but I was caught off guard by how hard it was to see my oldest brother, in many ways my childhood idol, suffering his own huge loss. I want to take his pain away, make his tomorrows easy and carefree, but I can't. And suddenly, with the burden that these last few days have brought, I feel myself bottoming out: the mental and emotional reserves nearing empty, my physical reserves following close behind. I had hoped to avoid this - I was trying to muster enough strength/energy/positive thoughts/I-don't-even-know-what everyday to keep my brokenness as neat and managed as possible. Yet now I feel my control slipping, and I worry that I am about to come all unraveled. I wonder what coming unraveled will mean in my life as it is to date - as a mother and a pastor's wife, as a new and old friend, and as a daughter and sister in a family that has really had quite enough lately, thank-you-very-much.

Strangely, (or perhaps not-so-strangely considering my Eeyore tendencies) one of my favorite books when I was a child was a rather slow-moving and depressing novel called Izzy, Willy-Nilly by Cynthia Voigt. (Cynthia Voigt is the Newberry Award-winning author of the more well-known Dicey's Song, which I also read as a child but didn't like at all.) In this story, a young girl by the name of Izzy (Isobel) is badly injured in a car accident and is forced to reform her understanding of self and others as she heals from her injuries and adapts to a new and vastly different life. Isobel often pictures a miniature version of herself in her head - and this miniature Izzy acts as an interpreter, both to the reader and perhaps to the main character herself, of Isobel's true emotions. I've always thought this was a very unique and interesting device on the part of the author for communicating information about how her character was feeling/developing without stating it overtly. And anyway, it has always stuck with me.

If there were a miniature Stephanie (ha! a mini-me!) in my head, I'm not sure that she would be doing too well right now. While spiritually I think I'm still holding strong for the most part, as I've stated already, mentally, emotionally, and physically I feel like I'm reaching the bottom of the barrel. Tonight, on the drive home from the city where my brother is still hospitalized, I had a sudden flashback to that story of the miniature Izzy. And in my mind I saw my own little miniature self - the one who I like to think has been shakily standing for the last couple of weeks - now lying bent over on the floor, too tired to even raise her head.

We are doing okay. We really are. And I still believe that one day, perhaps even not so far off, we all will be doing better than okay. I think we will be doing good.

I think we will be good.

But for now, we are okay.

Take Two

Well, this is not the photo post that I intended to put here.

Some very big life news had not made it on this blog yet. We found out right before Thanksgiving that we were going to have another baby! We held off announcing anything until we could tell my family in person at Christmas, and then we waited a little longer until we had passed the 12 week mark and were solidly into the second trimester. A few weeks ago we had the joy of announcing our good news at church and to our farther-flung friends over facebook. Since pretty much everyone who reads this blog is a friend of mine on facebook (as far as I know) it actually didn't immediately occur to me to post the news here - and when it did, I thought maybe I would just wait a few more weeks until we had the Big Ultrasound where you find out gender and then roll all the news into one big happy post.

Unfortunately, this past Friday at my routine appointment we found out that our baby's heart had stopped beating. I thought we had passed all the worry-points: the first trimester when the vast majority of miscarriages happen and the 14/15 week mark when our first miscarriage occurred. I had even thought I'd started feeling movement in the previous week and was in fact, sure that I'd felt the baby move just a day or two before. Friday morning I saw a few faint drops of blood after using the restroom first thing in the morning. (So sorry for what is almost certainly too much information.) It caused me some anxiety as my first miscarriage began the same way and as I've had no other bleeding of any kind in this or any other pregnancy. However, some spotting is supposedly not uncommon throughout pregnancy, and as all other trips to the restroom that morning resulted in no additional spotting (which was not true during my first miscarriage), I was able to keep my worry in check. I mentioned it to Peter and he was mildly concerned but not really worried and we headed off to my OB appointment.

We knew this should just be a quick, routine appointment: get in to see the doctor, hear the heartbeat, ask any questions we might have, and go on our way. The only real question I had was about the spotting I had seen earlier that morning, so I mentioned it to the doctor right off the bat as he was pulling over the Doppler device to listen for the heartbeat. He asked a few follow-up questions but didn't seem overly concerned, just as I had expected. I laid back and prepared to hear the heartbeat that would be the real reassurance I needed.

It didn't come. He patiently moved the device back and forth over my stomach and once caught the sound of my own pulse but even I could tell the difference. I remember at one point that he said he thought he heard movement. He asked if it had been hard to find the heartbeat before. It hadn't. He said that sometimes they can just be tricky to find and that he would go start the ultrasound machine so that we could see the baby and the heart. At the very end he caught my eye and quickly stated that he wasn't worried.

I didn't really believe him. I was pretty sure he was just saying that to try to make me feel better, but I tried to accept it and tried to believe it. Maybe there wasn't a reason to worry. Maybe this was just all going to be a good story - a little scary bleeding in the morning, followed by an appointment where it was hard to hear the heartbeat - just a good story for demonstrating the certain orneriness of any child of ours. I even tried to quickly cheer myself up with the thought that maybe this would be a chance to find out the gender 3 weeks early. It didn't really work. When the doctor left the room I tried to choke back some sobs as Peter patted me on the back. We didn't talk, just waited for the ultrasound.

Almost as soon as our baby was on the screen I knew something was wrong. He looked beautiful - we could clearly see so many features that had developed since our first ultrasound. But he was completely still, not a finger moved. And I knew that wasn't right. We silently watched the screen as the doctor tried different methods for checking the heart and bloodflow. I'm not sure exactly what the first thing he said was or when he said it, but I heard his, "I'm sorry," loud and clear and immediately put my hand over my face and sobbed. Peter held my other hand. I managed to pull it together and listened as the doctor discussed the next possible steps. I remember I asked him if he was absolutely sure. He said he was and then very carefully walked me through everything he could see with the ultrasound that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that our baby was no longer alive.

The next hour or so was the roughest. We made plans to drop Eden off at my brother's house in St. Louis and then head back to check into the hospital for the induction. We had the choice of waiting, but Peter didn't want to, and considering our last experience, I certainly couldn't blame him. The doctor left the ultrasound room to give us some privacy, and I sobbed some more. Eden asked why mommy was sad, and Peter told her that we were sad because we found out the baby was gone and that we weren't going to get to see it or hold it soon. We had a family hug and she patted my head and kept asking me if I was sad. She asked this a few more times in the van on the way to St. Louis with a few more questions about the baby being gone. At one point she told me not to be sad - that I could have another baby soon. She was so surprisingly gentle and sweet for a toddler who couldn't possibly really understand what was going on, and her presence was a great comfort to me.

We dropped Eden off with my sister-in-law and were in the process of trying to figure out how to break the news to my mom when she called to inform us that my older brother had been involved in an accident and was in the hospital having surgery on his foot which had been badly damaged. As terrible as it might sound, this additional bad news had one good effect in that it snapped me out of a world that had rapidly shrunk down in the previous hour to the size of my own individual pain. I felt overwhelmed but also as if I could breathe and think again. I guess it gave me some needed perspective.

I don't want to drag this story on forever. We checked into the hospital. Everyone was very kind. At around 5 pm they started the induction process. Our baby boy was born at 1:44 am Saturday morning. Peter and I got to spend a few minutes holding him for which I was very grateful. Our doctor arrived to assist with the end of delivery and then we got a couple hours of sleep. We checked out of the hospital at around 10:30 am that morning, went home to shower, and then headed to St. Louis to see my mom and Eden. Today we are all home together again in our new house.

Just as before, except for those first few horrible hours, the real pain is only now slowly beginning. There's something about the initial activity that helps keep the pain back. You're distracted, focused on the needs at hand. But now I'm home and there's not a single thing to do that involves my baby. It's life as usual except for the huge gaping wound that is me in the midst of it.

We named him Judah St. John. That has been his name all along so it wasn't a hard decision. Back in the fall as another month passed in which we didn't get pregnant (we had been trying, yet again, for over a year), I had stood at the bathroom mirror and wondered almost absently to myself if we would ever have another baby. And it was almost as if I heard another voice in my head reply, "Yes. You will have a son, and you will name him Judah." I wondered if it was just me talking myself, a sort of internal pep talk. Judah seemed like kind of a strange name though, a bit out of the blue. I had always loved the story of the naming of Judah in the Bible, but he was also a bit of a notorious character - not necessarily someone you would want to name your child for. I mentioned it to Peter, and we both kind of thought, well, we'll see if it's even a boy... But over the course of my pregnancy we both started to think of the baby as a boy and as Judah, and every time someone made a guess as to gender, they also always guessed boy.

Judah means praise. In Genesis 29:31-35, you can find the beginning of his story. Leah, a woman whose husband does not love her, gives birth to four sons in a row. The first three she gives names that all have meanings connected to her hope that her husband will now love her for what she has given him. But on the birth of her fourth son, she states, “This time I will praise the LORD.” So she named him Judah. For some reason, even as a child I loved this story. I loved that Leah stopped trying to earn her husband's love and just decided to praise God for what he had given to her. I loved that it was out of the line of Judah that Jesus was born. Out of praise came Redemption. Out of praise came Love.

We had tossed around ideas for middle names, but had trouble coming up with anything that seemed to fit with Judah. At one point, I suggested we choose the name of someone we admired. Peter suggested St. John, which I thought was kind of neat, since the Apostle John (who refers to himself as the "disciple Jesus loved" in his own Gospel and who wrote some of the greatest words on Love in his epistles) is one of my favorite New Testament characters. But Peter was actually thinking of the famous Christian mystic, St. John of the Cross, who wrote the poem, Dark Night of the Soul. We kind of liked the way the two names sounded together although we knew they were both pretty unusual and together might just be a bit too much. Now they both just seem perfect to me - perfect to the situation, perfect to our son.

I don't really know what else to write at this point. Peter is home from work, I need to wake Eden up from her nap. We need to get dinner ready, wash dishes, do laundry. At some point I really need to get some more unpacking done.

We won't be putting together a nursery now. I have no idea what the future holds but can't imagine a situation in which a nursery would be of any use for well over a year at the very least. I don't say this out of some sort of gloomy negativity, but it is always possible that we may never have another need for a nursery. That's something that my heart, for its own protection, needs to remain open to.

Overall, we are in a better place that we were the last time this happened. We know what to expect. As much as anyone can, I know the road that lies before me. I hate it. I do. I so hate to be here again, to keep waking up to this same nightmare, this same grief, this same weight. But, I also have a tired, battered confidence that we will make it through. We will take one step after the next. We will bear it. And there will be a day when I will wake up and my first thought, my first very sensation, won't be of what I have lost.

I don't want to go on too long. I know people who have suffered much more than me and who have been and are so beautifully graceful in their grief. That is not me. I don't have any great or profound thoughts. I just want to get up and do the best I can with this moment. And the moment after that. And the moment after that. I know I am not alone. I know my Savior is with me. Sometimes He feels very close. More often right now, honestly, He feels a bit remote. But we've been down this road before together, and I trust Him. I know who He is. I know He loves me. He has not left me now. I know it is His mercies that get me through every moment. And I'm so thankful for that and thankful for what He will yet do.

60(ish) days in 60 seconds

Okay, it's been a lot more than 60 days! Whatever! (Can I still say that? Do people still say that? What if I don't make the W symbol with my hands while saying it, would that mean it's still cool?)

Welcome to the I-just-can't-skip-over-a-couple-months-without-feeling-guilty post. Which might also be another glimpse into my OCD(ish!) leanings.

In short, here's what you've missed in the life of this crazy family over the last few months:

October:

• Our good friend Shanelle visited!
• For Halloween Eden dressed up as Curious George and Pete dressed up as The Man in the Yellow Hat. I was Professor Wiseman. We went to a Trunk-or-Treat at our church. It was kind of a disaster. (That is, our little family was a disaster - not the church event.)

November:

• Pete and I had a quick get-away to Pere Marquette State Park. I think. I can't find any evidence of this on the calendars, but I seem to remember it happening...
• Peter flew to California for about 5 days to speak at an ACSI conference. Eden and I were lonely but survived.
• We spent another couple of days at Pere Marquette with the rest of the church staff and their families for a staff retreat.
  
• Peter was the speaker for the Fall Renewal Weekend at our church, speaking 5 times over three days. He did a great job.
  
• We spent Thanksgiving Day with Peter's family in Kansas City and then the following Saturday with my family in St. Louis.

December:

• We made an ultimately-successful offer on a house! At some point in the previous few weeks we had actually made unsuccessful offers on two other houses, so this really felt like a reason to celebrate (and also a bit surreal).
• A seemingly endless procession of house-related inspections, tests, decisions, and paperwork kicked into gear.
  
• Eden got her first round of stomach-flu.
• I spent 24 hours feeling pretty miserable myself (aches, fever, exhaustion) but counted myself lucky to have escaped the vomiting. Sadly...
  
• I got the stomach flu on Christmas Eve. I did not escape the vomiting. I did, however, miss the Christmas Eve service at church, as well as Eden unwrapping and enjoying many of her presents. Boo. To. That.
  
• We spent Christmas Day at my brother's house in St. Louis with most of my immediate family as well as my maternal grandparents. (I was in quarantine on the love seat.) I did get to see Eden unwrap an avalanche of presents from all her generous relatives. I think she may now own some version of every toy ever made.
• We spent several more days at my other brother's house in St. Louis, generally hanging out and recovering from a busy month. It is so nice to live around family again.
• We did a kid swap with my brother and his wife - watching their son for 24 hours so they could see a movie and enjoy some time to themselves and then leaving Eden with them for the next 24 hours so that we could do the same. We saw True Grit, ate sushi, and slept in. I cannot begin to express how wonderful this was.
  
• We went to see Peter's family in Kansas City for New Year's Eve/Day. I left the party early to tuck Eden into bed but stayed up so I could see the ball drop on television. Unfortunately, I got distracted by a movie on another channel (true confessions: it was The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants**) and didn't remember to click back over until 3 minutes after the ball had completed its descent. Perhaps as payback for this stupidity my body refused to go to sleep until 4 o'clock in the morning.

January:

• We were delighted with a brief visit from some of our favorite people in the world, the Shive family.
• I got the stomach flu again.
• We closed on our house! Oh happy day!
• The real work began as we decided to do a few, small renovations before moving in at the end of the month.
• Our renovation project list went from 1) refinishing the bedroom floors to, 2)refinishing the bedroom floors, upstairs landing, and stairs, to, 3) refinishing all the floors in the house except for the kitchen and bathroom to, 4) refinishing all the floors except for the kitchen and bathroom and knocking out (and then partially rebuilding) a wall. Oh and we're also going to repaint half the house. And sell our stove so that we can have a gas range instead of an electric one.
• It snowed a gazillion inches and now isn't supposed to get above freezing for another week. This may or may not be causing the slow erosion of my soul. But Eden made her first (and second) snowman!
  

Renovations are only halfway completed and only three boxes have been packed, but in theory we're moving next weekend!

And now you're all caught up.

**The tagline for this movie is: "Laugh. Cry. Share the pants." Yes, I am serious. I am so ashamed.

Birthday Blitz: In Which We Attempt To Determine Just How Many Photos Blogger Will Allow You To Upload In A Single Post

I'm not feeling very wordy today.

So, I'm just going to give a brief recap of the birthday bonanza that's been going on around here lately and then bombard you with a bajillion photos.

And yes, I could have thrown a few more "b" words into the above sentence. Brilliantly, I might add.

Wait, what were we talking about? Oh yes!

Birthday Numero Uno: August 1st. Eden's actual birthday. We woke her up by bringing her a blueberry muffin with a two-shaped candle and singing Happy Birthday (as opposed to, I don't know, The Battle Hymn of the Republic, says Captain Obvious). After Peter blew out the candle - she wasn't getting anywhere near that flame, which I was perfectly okay with - we took her to church where she was serenaded with happy birthday songs at least two more times and received her first present (an adorable musical tea set). We took her home, fed her lunch, and let her open a few more presents from us as well as one present from my mom, before putting her down for a nap. While she was sleeping I made her a dirt cake complete with gummy worms. It looked awesome. Then we went to a church get-together out at a beautiful house in the country where she made a bunch of new little friends and was introduced to lightning bugs and fishing. It was after 10 pm before she went to bed, but all in all I'd say she had a great day.

Birthday Numero Dos: August 14th. Joint birthday party for Eden and her cousin, Cedric, who is basically turning three as we speak. This would be the party I referenced in my last post - the one that contributed to a series of ridiculous stress-induced nightmares. I'm happy to say that due to the hard work and creativity of many of my family members (particularly, Laura, Cedric's mom, who posted about the day here) the party went off beautifully and was a smashing success. (Also, Eden successfully blew out her candle at this party without any hesitation or help. I was proud as punch.) While the kids were napping I unwrapped presents from my family for my own birthday, which was...

Birthday Numero Tres: August 16th. My thirty-first birthday. (Ugh. Not feeling nearly as chipper about the aging process this time around as I was last year.) A surprisingly fun-filled day as we hadn't really made any big plans. Peter let me sleep in and then cooked me breakfast, and my aforementioned sister-in-law, Laura, brought Cedric up for a surprise visit. We went to a park and let Cedric ride his new bicycle around the paved path while I pushed Eden beside him on his old tricycle. After lunch and naps, Laura and Cedric headed home and Pete, Eden, and I headed out to dinner. Once Eden was in bed Pete got me a Peanut Buster Parfait from DQ and we discussed the Hunger Games t-shirt that he is going to make for me. My other birthday present from Pete is the third and final book in the Hunger Games series, Mockingjay, which is released on August 24th. It is being overnighted to our house, and Pete has promised to provide me with lots of uninterrupted reading time when it arrives. I am ridiculously excited about both of these presents.

Okay, this post is actually already a lot longer than I anticipated. Perhaps my boasts of brevity were bogus. Ha! Yeah, now I'm actually just annoying myself.

Photos! Here!

Birthday Number 1:
I had a last minute genius idea to buy Eden some Sesame Street shirts when I saw them on sale in a store the night before. She loves them! Probably her favorite present from us.

The below blurriness is caused by a dance of pure happiness.
And here Eden takes the term birthday bash to a whole new level...
Birthday Number 2: There was an Elmo/Super Grover/Curious George theme in case you can't tell. Many decorations were handmade by the ever-awesome Laura.
The haul! In all honesty, in all the birthday planning it never really crossed my mind that we would be bringing home a ton of presents. I don't know, I was somehow thinking she would get five or six things, max? You know, one item per attending family?
And! AANNNNDDD!! She got more stuff! From people at church and from California friends:
We're considering selling a few on eBay and retiring early.

I jest!

We're considering selling them all and retiring period.

Really, why do you read this blog?

Anyway, I think that's about it for the birthday recap. You should have enough photos to last you until Eden's next birthday when we are hoping she will receive a Ferrari and/or a house.

My baby! How can she possibly already be two-years-old???

Love to you all!

The birthday girls -- 8/18/2010

How To Become a Desperate Housewife

Step 1: Coupons.

That's right: C.O.U.P.O.N.S.

Once upon a time, when we first moved to California and were living on an incredibly tiny budget with basically no money in the bank, I was a devoted coupon clipper. And we saved a lot of money. But it also took a LOT of time - both in the actual clipping of the coupons and in digging through them in the store to compare prices, etc., in order to get the best deals. Over time we gradually slipped out of the habit. Pete was out of school, we were both working, the budget had much more breathing room, and the bank account had a comfortable cushion. The pressure was off, and the work no longer seemed worth it.

But when Pete took his new job as a pastor and I quit my job to become a full-time stay-at-home-mom, we knew we were going to need to tighten the belt again, and I was determined to become the Coupon Queen. Plus! Apparently over the last few years coupon clipping has become a BIG DEAL. As in there are a million blogs devoted to it. As in people no longer just clip coupons, they have coupon binders and boxes. They comb through store sale fliers in order to combine the best possible prices with the biggest possible coupons - and they post these super deals on their blogs so that everyone else can do the same. They create coupon databases (coupon databases!!). They even play drugstore games where, through some complicated system that I've yet to fully grasp, they are able to purchase hundreds of dollars of merchandise for fifty cents and some Monopoly money.

Okay, that is a slight exaggeration. (Extreme, extreme emphasis on slight.)

The point is, I felt sure with all of these new amazing resources at my fingertips, I'd be saving gigantic chunks of change in no time. I also thought I'd be able to avoid spending so much time clipping coupons (which is good because I seem to have no time these days) AND avoid carrying big handfuls of coupons around in the store with me while squinting for ten minutes at the price tags on a single set of product brands. (This is also good because: all that I just said? It does not work when you have a toddler sitting in the front of your shopping cart. No, really believe me. I tell you no lies here. Also: extreme, extreme emphasis on sitting.)

ANYWAY... to get on with this long, drawn-out story... Monday night I sat down with my spiffy little weekly meal plan, my grocery list, my pile of store ads and coupons from the Sunday paper, and my lovely little computer with what is probably the mother of all coupon blogs front and center on the screen, and I dove in, certain that I was about to work some magic. An hour later I gave up and went to bed having found and clipped a total of TWO (that's right, 2!) useful coupons. One of those coupons was to be used in conjunction with a store sale, which turned out to be nonexistent when I visited the store the next day. So I walked out with my groceries having saved sixty cents.

Sixty cents. For over an hour of work.

I did a little better today. Another hour of work last night resulted in a savings of eight dollars today at Target. But still!

I'm going to hang in there and give this coupon-clipping/blog-reading/drugstore-game-playing a little more time to work out. But I'm feeling pretty doubtful about all of it at this moment. It's not that I don't believe in the methods. I'm sure that there are many people out there saving tons of money this way, but I also strongly suspect that at least a few of them are living entirely off of fruit snacks and sugar cereal and/or have enough toothpaste and hair care products to support a small city for the next five years.

Step 2: Throw a birthday party for toddlers.

My sister-in-law and I thought that we could save time and money (do you sense a theme here?) by throwing a combined birthday party for my just-turned-two daughter and her just-about-to-turn-three son.

We were wrong.

Also, if I never see the face of Elmo or Curious George again, I will die a happy person. Super Grover is hanging on to my affections by a thread.

Step 3: Be a little crazy to begin with.

It's been a week. Actually, it's been several weeks. I won't go into it because you all have weeks too. You know what I'm talking about.

But I am also my own particular brand of crazy, and there's a reason why Peter says I have a little Rabbit mixed in with all my Eeyoreness. Eeyorenicity?

Last night my accumulated stress from these last few weeks came out, as it often does, in my sleep. The cats woke me up for their nightly supper at what I suspect was about 3 am, and after that I tossed and turned in a semi-awake stew of anxious thoughts and mental to-do lists for awhile until apparently succumbing to some form of sleep. But then I started having nightmares. And I definitely mean that noun to be pluralized.

My first nightmares were all about spiders. Particularly spiders in my ears. (Katie! I will apparently never recover from your story.) Then those were replaced by your standard burglar/murderer nightmares involving physical harm to me and Eden. THEN I started dreaming about driving off the Poplar Street Bridge and crashing into the Mississippi over and over and over again. And every time that nightmare restarted I would try to think of a different way to escape my car and the churning muddy water and every time I would fail and the dream would end just as I began to drown.

Soooooooo......

Hmmm, yeah, I don't think there's any hope of bringing this post back from that last paragraph.

Here's to better weeks for all of us! May all your coupons be doubled and all your cupcakes come pre-decorated!

At least, try not to think about the spiders.

For My Mama, On Her Birthday

As I think I've mentioned already, before having Eden I was never really sure that I wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom. I wasn't much of a "kid" person growing up - I didn't like to babysit or even hold babies. I was (and am!) pretty terrible at all the "Suzie Homemaker" type activities: cooking, cleaning, whatever. I figured I'd always probably work part-time at least.

Then I had Eden and suddenly my career was about as interesting and stimulating as filling out forms at the DMV. I just wanted to be able to be home with her, to spend as much time with her as possible. I wanted to ensure that she was getting the best care and life experience possible. And I figured, who better to give her that than me? Who would ever be more motivated and committed?

And now, except for 10 hours a week, I am a stay-at-home-mom. And I think it was the right decision for me and for us. I don't have any desire to go back to full-time work or even to work a single hour more than I do now. I believe that every family is different, and I HATE all the judgment that flies back and forth between stay-at-home-moms and working moms (or you know, between a few individuals within both of those groups), but personally, I'm confident that I'm exactly where I should be.

However.

The transition to this new role has been surprisingly difficult at times. Even though I love it. Even though I'm confident of my choice.

While I was never ambitious or interested in climbing any sort of career ladder (I would happily stay a Librarian I forever, I think), I've always been a bit of an "achiever" personality-wise. Okay, fine. An "over-achiever" at times. Occasionally. My whole life. I was a model student, and I think for the most part (hopefully I'm not getting too big for my britches here), I was a model employee. I get immense satisfaction out of a job well done - out of a sense of accomplishment. Every good grade, successful interview, positive job evaluation, and promotion was an emotional boost - another brick in the foundation of my sense of self-worth.

But, as it turns out, there are no grades, interviews, job evaluations or promotions as a stay-at-home-mom. There's not even a paycheck. (And a paycheck, I've discovered, is a surprisingly validating thing. It's a very tangible indicator of accomplishment. "I earned this. And with this, we bought X, Y, and Z. This is what I contribute to this family. Etc.")

And the work is HARD. It requires infinite amounts of patience and self-control. (And let me tell you, working with public library patrons is not always a walk in the park. But still, not nearly as hard - at least to me.) It's often demanding and tedious and there are no allowances made for illness or lack of sleep. You always have to be "on" - and the regret that comes with the moments where you fail, where you snap at your child or don't prevent some accident that you could have prevented if you had been paying full attention, stings far worse than any botched patron interaction.

But lately it's been that lack of a sense of accomplishment that has been the hardest for me to adjust to. Every finished project is immediately undone again. Fifteen minutes after washing the dishes, dirty dishes appear in the sink. At the end of a long day of laundry, dirty clothes fill our hampers. Toys must be picked up and put away and picked up and put away and picked up and put away. I always feel slightly behind because these tasks, by their very nature, can never be fully accomplished. They are generally not stimulating and they do not require a degree to validate their worth. While librarian is not a flashy job, it still inspires interest and questions at social interactions. Stay-at-home-mom does not. And it's not because people are rude - because really, what are they supposed to say? "Oh, you clean and carpool and cook and sing the ABC's 15 times a day? How interesting! Please, tell me more about how hard it is to adjust the straps on that car seat. You cleaned up that entire diaper explosion using only two baby wipes - that is some serious skill! So what exactly are the lyrics to the second verse of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? I've always wanted to know..."

You get the point.

Philosophically, I know that I am accomplishing something. I know that what I'm doing has worth. But it's measured in a completely different way, and I miss all the attaboys and slaps-on-the-back and other affirmations that came with a career.

I've been thinking about this a lot this week. And I've been thinking about my mom too.

My mom is the hardest working person I know. She always was up working before we awoke in the morning and she was still working when we went to bed at night. She did all of the cooking and cleaning and shopping and errands and fixing of this and solving of that. We almost never ate take-out. Our house and clothes were always clean. We always had whatever we needed - even if it was something that we HAD TO HAVE for the next day of school that we didn't bother to tell her about until bedtime the night before. She did all of this even when necessity (aka our private schooling) required that she also take on a full-time job. And in exchange we took her completely for granted. We called her at work to whine that so-and-so took a toy and wouldn't give it back. We complained about being dragged to the grocery store and then made complained more about what she fixed for dinner. We expected her to help us with anything we needed help with at whatever moment we needed help. We left our dirty dishes in the sink and marched off to play games or read a book.

It never crossed our minds to wonder if she was happy or would maybe like to read a book herself. We never considered whether she had more to offer the world than folding our socks or wiping our noses. She was mom - that's what she did. That's what she always did.

Dear Mom,

Thank you for serving us day in and day out. Thank you for all that time you spent making that Halloween costume that I then refused to wear the night of Halloween. Thank you for inventing an ingenious way to make me think I was "safe" from snakes. Thank you for taking me to the library. Thank you for cooking a hundred kabillion meals for me. Thank you for reading to me when I was sick. Thank you for giving up your sleep, your right to privacy, your right to anything, for me. Thank you for all the millions and millions of ways you put my happiness before your own. And most of all, mom, thank you for never ever making me feel like you minded one second of it. Thank you for assuring me through your every word and action that I was always worth it and that there was nowhere else you'd rather be and nothing else you'd rather do. Thank you for sending me out into the world with the unshakable conviction of your unconditional love tucked into my heart.

I can never, ever, ever repay you.

Happy birthday, mom!! I love you!

Flashback Friday: Grandma Edition

My mom came out to visit earlier in the month. We had a lot of fun going to parks, cooking, eating (I especially enjoyed the eating), playing with Eden, and just generally hanging out. Despite bringing my camera with me everywhere (and dropping it on concrete at least twice), I only took photos on the last morning she was here. Of course. A few of those are posted below.

But first. In honor of Flashback Friday I present photos from the trip my mom made out here a few days after Eden was born in August 2008. (Although who that strange baby is on her lap, I cannot say. That cannot possibly be my child who only yesterday pushed a giant plastic car - containing a preschooler - around the park.)

My mom bought this pink dress for her granddaughter while I was still in high school. This woman plans ahead.

On the left here we have, Exhibit A: A woman who has clearly gone without sleep for 24 hours multiple times in the most recent week. Also a woman who will wear nothing but nursing tanks and sweat pants for the rest of the month.

And below we have, Exhibit B: Why grandmas are the bestest.


Thanks for being the bestest, Mom. We love and miss you!

Return of the Blog

Hello!

It's been quite awhile since I've posted anything to this blog - sorry about that. The truth is I wasn't really up to posting for awhile - partially because I was just way too busy, and partially because what was keeping me busy (the whole working mom bit) was also keeping me feeling a bit glum overall. And no one wants to read post after post of repeated grumblings, right? Despite the general tilt of my personality toward the melancholy, I didn't really want to write post after post of repeated grumblings either. So I decided to give the ol' blog a break for awhile. And awhile turned in to 4 to 5 months. It happens.

But big changes have been afoot in the Hough House lately, and I'm excited to share them all with you. The fact that I also have a little more time to share them now should give you a hint regarding what at least one of those changes might be... but more about that later. Right now I want to try to catch you up to the present - well, at least through the end of July. It's going to be a whirlwind tour, so hang on to your hats!

Shortly after my last post in the beginning of April, we took a family trip to Yosemite for about 5 days. Eden went on her first hike and pretty much cried the whole way. The only time she would stop crying was when another hiker appeared on the path - mostly because she immediately became curious about the new person. This saved us from the fear that someone would turn us in to the authorities for cruelty but didn't keep that first hike from being pretty miserable for all involved. The next day however, we decided to take a hike on a little path near our cabin, and this time Eden proved that she was more than able to be a happy camper (happy hiker?) when she felt so inclined. She even indulged in a short snooze on the way home. This trip contained 2 other firsts as well - the first time Eden clapped and her first scary fall - head first off the hotel bed while Peter and I were a little too focused on looking over the trail map. (Perhaps someone should have turned us in to the authorities after all...) I'm pretty sure the thunk of Eden hitting the floor was the loudest and worst sound I've ever heard in my life - followed closely by the scream she let out immediately afterward (which, both Peter and I noted later, seemed much more like an "angry" scream than a hurt or frightened one). She recovered pretty quickly though and never got a bump or even a bruise. I'm still a jittery mess about it though.

Two of us:

The Not-So-Happy-Hiker:

Fun times:

Short snooze:

Yosemite:

Other items of note: Eden stood on her own without support for the first time on May 7th. She had her 9-month checkup on May 14th and weighed 16.69 pounds and was 28.3 inches long. Her much anticipated first steps were taken on Sunday, May 24th, in the presence of both mom and dad, as well as our friend, Shanelle!

In June we flew back to the Midwest for a family reunion in the Smoky Mountains. It was the first time everyone (grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins) from my mom's side of the family had gotten all together since before I was married. The reunion was also a surprise 80th birthday party for my wonderful Grandma Green - I am so thankful that all the details were worked out and that everyone was able to make it. Both Peter and Eden were introduced to many relatives and, apart from a terrible cold I developed a few days into the trip, a fun time was had by all. Eden also started waving "bye-bye" on our last day in the Midwest - right before we flew back to California.

Stretching our legs at a rest stop with Cousin Cedric:

Passed out on Grandma at the cabin:

Fuzzy family:

Curly top:

Shortly after we returned from the family reunion, Peter went on a trip to Africa with students and staff from his school. They had an incredible time and were able to visit several organizations that the school might partner with and support in the future. While he was gone, my sister-in-law, Laura, visited for a week with my nephew. We had a wonderful time just relaxing as well as taking fun little adventures each day to places like the Huntington Gardens, Kidspace, and the beaches in Malibu (which my nephew referred to as the "Big Water"). I was very sad to see them go when the week was up.

Flat tire on safari:

Masai man:

Laura, Eden, Cedric:

My beautiful baby:

Kidspace:

On July 16th, Eden dropped a toy from the changing table while I was changing her diaper. I said "uh-oh!" and she looked right at me and repeated the word, drawing out the second syllable: "uh-ohhhh." And she's been saying it ever since! Usually she says it when she drops something, but she will also say it sometimes for no (apparent) reason. She was cracking us up the other day by saying it whenever we told her no or to stop doing something:
"Eden, out of the trash!"
"Uh-oh!"
"Don't put that cat food in your mouth!"
"Uh-oh!"
"Eden - no! Put that down!"
"Uh-oh!"
"Eden, please stop squealing in that incredibly high-pitched way."
"Uh-oh!"
Well, you get the picture. It was even funnier because she was so serious and sincere when saying it. We would have to hide our faces so she wouldn't see us laughing and continue it as a joke.

She has actually become quite a mimic verbally and will often repeat words immediately after we say them although "uh-oh" seems to be the one she understands the most and uses independently. Other words she has said, or at least mimicked, include: mama, dada, kitty, no, wow, more, tada!, and e-i-e-i-oooo (from the Old McDonald Had a Farm song). There is also an interesting and very hard to describe "la-la-la" noise that we think is supposed to mean banana.

It's hard to believe the time has passed so quickly, but Eden turned one year old on August 1st, 2009. I will write another post soon all about her party and the other big events that have happened in the month of August - promise! (Although, please be generous with your interpretation of the word soon.) For now, I hope you feel at least a little bit caught up on our lives over the last few months. In addition to some new posts (and hopefully regularly occurring posts from this point on), I will be working on some other changes to the blog to get it a bit more up-to-date. It's definitely a work in progress at the moment though, so don't be surprised if a few things seem missing or a bit unfinished for a (hopefully brief) time.

Until next time here's a short video of Eden walking/climbing to tide you over.