Emma's Special Picnic

Saturday marked Emma's fourth annual picnic with E, her birthmother, and Grandma (P) and Grandpa B (S), her maternal birth-grandparents. It was a wonderful time for us all. As much as E, P and S feel blessed by our continued physical contact, our family is blessed tenfold. I cannot tell you how life affirming those times are for us. I am looking forward to the day when Emma has a better understanding of her adoption. I am so glad that she will always know that her birthfamily loves her beyond all understanding.

Traditionally, the first Saturday of June has consisted of crappy weather since Emma was born. This year was a bit better. Although it was overcast and threatened to rain, the clouds kept the heat down and gradually made way for the sunshine. We were able to enjoy our picnic lunch and play with the kids without getting sticky and uncomfortable.

After we got to the park, the girls didn't want a thing to do with eating. I had a nice visit with them while the kids were playing. As soon as E and S finished eating, they joined Danny and the girls out on the playground. E didn't mention it herself, but P told me how much it meant to their family that we were raising Emma to know about her history and roots in such an open and loving way. After I wrote my blog about explaining adoption to Emma, I emailed the birthfamily to tell them. Since they didn't email back, I was concerned that I might have hurt their feelings by mentioning it. That was the furthest thing from the truth. I had no idea how much power such a simple act as writing that email would have. She told me just how lucky they feel that E selected "the best" parents for Emma. What an honor it is for Danny and I to have the opportunity to link our family with theirs. I can't imagine it any other way.

S and E had fun playing alone with Emma on the playground while Danny and Ally ate lunch. Emma told them all about school, her friends and the things that she liked. E emailed later and told me that she couldn't believe how much Emma had grown up and opened up since Christmas. Later in the afternoon everyone went down by the creek to see some big tadpoles. Apparently E almost slipped into the creek and screamed as she stopped herself. Emma just loves to talk about that.

Just as always, the girls were spoiled by E, P and S. They had a great time opening and playing with their gifts. Emma's favorite gift by far was a pair of flip flops. They have beads on them and Emma fell in love at first sight. She wouldn't even let me take the tag off before she ran out on to the playground. P and I laughed about how she must take after Minnie Pearl just a little bit. S bought each of the girls these plastic toy tubes. If you hold one end and swing them around, it makes a funny, whiste type of sound. E was worried that the girls would end up hitting each other with them. Instead, they look like Star Wars geeks waving fake light sabers at each other. They couldn't use them as weapons if they wanted to.

Emma called P "Grandma" for the first time at the picnic and I enjoyed watching P's face light up. P has health issues that make walking around difficult, but when Emma said, "Grandma, come here!" she couldn't resist.

Emma also hugged S for the first time in a long time. S has a mustache and Emma doesn't really know what to think about it. At our last few get togethers, Emma wouldn't hug or kiss him because of it. This time she gave him a hug.

We got some wonderful pictures of Emma, E, P and S. We also got a wonderful picture of E and Emma on a tire swing. I know that Emma will treasure them so much some day.

Although nice, the 4 hour drive each way made for a long day for all of us. By the time we got home, it was way past Ally's bed time. We were all exhausted, but it felt good. Making memories is worth every bit of it.

A Potty First

Sunday afternoon I dropped Allison off at Danny's parent's house so that I could do a little shopping in peace. It was a nice couple of hours all to myself (finding a cute outfit at Target for under $20 was icing on the cake). When I went to pick Ally up, Granny had some wonderful news: Allison told them that she had to pee. They set up the toilet seat trainer for her, stripped her down and sat her on the potty. I'm not sure that they were expecting anything, but Ally peed! She's pottied in Emma's potty chair before, but it was after I got her ready for her bath and put her there while I started the water. She didn't tell me that she needed to pee or otherwise acknowledge that she had. This is a first and, at just 19 months, a relatively early one at that! Emma was much older before she showed any interest. The advantages of having more than one child are starting to arrive. Thank God!

Ally is proud of her accomplishment, too. She just beams with pride every time I talk about it. The other person doesn't even have to be in the same room. When I called my parents with the good news, she practically blushed. Awareness of one's bodily bathroom functions is a joyous, joyous thing indeed.

This weekend also marked the time when sitting in a dirty diaper became downright unacceptable for Ally. I'm not putting the horse before the cart. I remember very well that there is a big difference between occassional potty successes and being potty trained. We're headed in the right direction. Freedom from diapers and some extra savings are right around the corner. I hope that Sam's Club doesn't go out of business when we stop buying Huggies there...

Upheaval

I haven't been able to do nearly as much blogging and reading as I would like to these days. Things at my 9 to 5 are becoming increasingly unsettled. We only have dial up access at home, so I used my breaks and lunch time to do most of my posting and surfing. That won't be the case any longer. If I haven't visited your site in a while, please don't think it's because I'm too busy for you. That's not the case. From here on in, I will have to put up with the snail's pace I have at home.

Note to all politicians: I will vote for anyone who will work to get DSL service out here in the boondocks. People may think otherwise, but we're not all salt-of-the-earth farmers or hicks out here. Some of us just want to get away for some peace and quiet - perferably with high speed Internet access.

The good news is that this will mean much less time doing nothing in front of the TV. This may very well break my Law & Order addiction. Danny will be most pleased.

Trista, Please Sit Down Before Reading

I scrapbooked three pages for Emma last night. I finished the Ft. Sumter and Children Museum pages. They turned out really nice. Once I finish the ocean pages from our trip she'll be caught up to Allison. Whoo Hoo!

Our Weekend with Team M.E.A.T (Minus the M)

We missed you, Mark!

Up until last Thursday, the weather had been cool and miserable for someone desperately waiting for warm weather. Trista, Abby and Ethan were set to arrive for a Memorial Day weekend visit and I wanted the weather to be a pleasant change from Michigan. Well, the temperature far exceeded my expectations. As they say... be careful what you ask for. It was so hot and sticky Thursday afternoon while we were waiting for the gang to arrive that we had to wait inside the local pet store. At some points, it was almost unbearable - for the adults. The four kids enjoyed every moment we spent outside.

We had a wonderful visit with our best friends. I was so happy to have them here. Despite the minor inconveniences (Allison developing croup Wednesday night/Thursday morning, Abby coming down with a viral infection in her hip and backing into a parked car while leaving the pediatrician's office), I wouldn't have traded the weekend for anything in the world. We kept ourselves busy, too. Who rests on a vacation, anyway?

Danny and his father got our swing set put together Thursday morning and the kids had a ball with it. It was so much fun to watch them smile and hear them laugh as we pushed them on the swings. There's something about spending time with kids on swings that makes me ooze parental bliss.

Saturday afternoon I arranged for my favorite daycare teacher to come to our house and watch the four kids. Michelle brought her daughter, Carmen, along too. Trista and I left shortly after 1 that afternoon. First, we did a little clothes shopping. We each found some really cute and inexpensive things at Catos. There's nothing like new clothes to start a wonderful afternoon of sweet freedom. Then, we went to see "Thank You for Smoking." Although this may not seem like much of a compliment because I haven't seen many movies at all in the past few years, I can't remember when I've seen a better, more enjoyable movie. I have found my new favorite movie quote. I can't document it here because I don't want to give anything away. Let's just say that one line from William H. Macy's character is worth the price of admission and then some. After the movie we ate at a nice little sandwich shop just down the street from the theater. We each tried a new adult beverage. Trista chose the Russian Punch and I went straight for Sex on the Beach. What better way is there to cap off a wonderful afternoon with your best friend than eating on the patio while sipping something that does not belong in or around a toddler's sippy cup?

Sunday we went to Amazement Square, a wondeful children's museum in Lynchburg. We met up with T.M. and Miranda there. Miranda is as beautiful as ever and it's hard to believe that she will be four in July. It seems like yesterday T.M. and Michelle brought her over to our house to meet Emma. She couldn't have barely been three months old then. I'm so glad that Trista could meet my good friends from my homestudy group. Everyone had a great afternoon at the museum. I'm so glad that T.M. mentioned this place. It's hard to say exactly what the children liked the best - milking the cow and collecting eggs from the hen house or getting bare foot and painting the walls - and each other. Allison was so inspired by the trip that she didn't sleep a wink the entire hour and a half home.

Monday night we got our pool out. Such a small investment (we got it on sale at Target for $10 or less) paid off big dividends. The three oldest went from the pool to the Elmo sprinkler and back to the pool again for more than an hour. Allison was a little more tentative about it which surprised me. She loves her bath and has no problem getting water in her face. I guess the pool water was a little too cold for her taste. By the end of the evening, Trista and I were in the pool reenacting the grape crushing seen from "I Love Lucy." Our pants got soaked, but the kids absolutely loved splashing around with us.

Tuesday was our last day together. We spent it at the Mill Mountain Zoo and getting Allison's 18 month pictures taken. Thankfully the zoo is small and quaint. I don't know how much more we could have pushed our double strollers around before heat stroke set in. It was such a hot day. On the way to the mall, the temperature read 99 degrees. Allison took some wonderful pictures and we got such a sweet group shot of the four kids. It's sort of become a tradition to get a group photo taken each time Team M.E.A.T and Our Shady Tree get together. I really love that tradition. The pictures come back on June 12. I've already marked my calendar!

Today was an odd day. It felt funny getting back into the routine of getting ready for work and taking the girls back to school. Emma and I both were a little sad on the drive into town. When I sat down at my desk, I felt like I was coming off a three day drunk. Four children under 3 and a half is a blessing - and a lot of work! I must not have showed it, though. One of my coworkers commented on how much more relaxed I was. It all goes to show the power of friendship!

Uncle Danny, Aunt Jennifer, Emma and Allison love our Trista, Abby and Ethan (and Mark) so much! Thank you for blessing us with the gifts of your company. We can't wait until July when we can return the favor! Long may we team together in the shade.

It’s a Small World After All

When I first moved to this area, Danny joked about how he ran into someone he knew just about every time he went out. Where I live now is smaller than where I grew up, but not that small. Turns out you can’t even be robbed by someone here who isn’t somehow connected to you. Danny called me Thursday afternoon. As it turns out, the 18 year old who stole my credit card is the friend of Danny’s manager’s son! I could almost sell this plot to a soap opera. Add a few nights of illicit passion to the mix and it is quality daytime television – not a bad way to introduce the child you never knew you had due to the months of amnesia you suffered in the convent hospital on that remote desert island.

Art and the Life of Christ

Danny recently wrote an interesting post about the upcoming release of Ron Howards' "The Da Vinci Code." It is a hot topic this summer and there are strong opinions on both sides. My history with this subject is very limited. When the book first came out, my sister read it and enjoyed it. Her email about it convinced me to get on the waiting list at my local library. I tried to read it, but I just couldn't get past the early chapter where the albino assassin was flogging himself. "Okay," I thought, "I get that this ultra-right wing Roman Catholic monk is evil or, best case scenario, severely messed up. So what? I don't have to flogged so hard with your prose for me to get the picture. And by the way, I might have enjoyed figuring that out for myself." I returned the book to the library the next day. When it comes to literature, the hard sell just doesn't work for me.

If you're going to use art to explore the life of Jesus in a non-traditional way, why not be subtle? "The Last Temptation of Christ" was an intriguing look at what might have been. You know from reading the Gospels that Jesus was tempted by Satan. You can only imagine that it was constant. It's what makes him human. Exactly how he was tempted, we'll never know. But we can imagine. I remember the film ending and being awestruck by the idea that Jesus could have chosen to live a [hopefully] happy, domestic life. Instead, he chose to die for my sins. Whether Jesus ever was tempted by images of himself with a wife and children is irrelevant. The realization that His torment went beyond the purely physical was an awakening for me. In no way am I trying to diminish the physical sacrifices Jesus made in His last days. "The Passion of the Christ" drove that home ferociously well. Still, human beings are more than just flesh, bone and blood. Our spirit truly gives us life. Without that, we are beautiful - albeit mere - animals. You need to consider the spiritual suffering of Christ to get a picture of His complete sacrifice.

I've never finished Dan Brown's book and I have read very little of the debate that surrounds it. My gathering is that "proof" is discovered in this book, against all odds and an evil albino monk, that Jesus married Mary Magdalene and one or more children resulted from their union. This is not unlike the portrayal of the tempations Christ may have suffered on the cross in Martin Scorsese's film. What remains to be seen is if there is a true difference between "exploring possibilities" and "declaring truths" within fiction or film. Is one a heresy? Are both? Does it matter?

The Unit

Emma and Allison are like a unit that has always been together. Every day they become closer and closer. It's a sweet thing to watch.

Tonight we went to Burger King for dinner. Emma picked the restaurant. Apparently, just with Taco Bell, Charlie likes to eat there. It just so happens that our local Burger King has a small outdoor play area. I'm not sure how, but I got them to eat inside the restaurant first. I was going to get a highchair for Ally, but as soon as Emma sat in the booth Ally pointed at the spot next to her and said, "Sit." [I am happy - and a little sad - to report that Ally no longer begins the word sit with a "sh" sound] I figure why not give it a try. You know what, they did really well sitting next to each other. They ate really well and stayed put for the most part. It was fun for me, too. You get visions of what's to come at those times.

Just before we threw our trash away, Emma asked Allison, "Are you my Sweetie Pie?" Ally got a twinkle in her eye, shook her head and said, "No." Even Emma knew she didn't mean it.

Both girls ran into the play area like they'd been forced to sit all day. Emma waited for Ally to go down the double-sided slide and they both yelled, "Whee!" I really wished that I had my camera. There was a gradual set of stairs to the slide area and a traditional playground type set of stairs. As soon as Emma tried out the more upright set, Ally would have it no other way. I stood behind her each time, but she really didn't need me. She handles stairs like a champ. When Emma walked up the slide, Allison walked up the slide. I couldn't believe my eyes. That girl can keep up when she sets her mind to it.

Our beautiful Unit is going to have a lot of fun growing up. Hopefully they'll choose to use their powers for the good. I hate to think what will happen to Danny and me if they ever try to gang up on us...

You Had Me at “Tay”

Ever since I’ve gotten back from Las Vegas, Allison has really started touching me with her words. It happens mostly when she awakes in the night and wants to come into bed. I’m not exactly sure what this says about me, but I’m thankful that my attempt to teach her to sleep through the night by herself never went anywhere.

Not too long after I went to bed the first night back, Allison started to stir. Typically when this happens, I lie perfectly still and try not to breathe. It is inevitable that she’ll end up in the bed at some point during the night. Still, I like to get a little sleep under my belt beforehand. She didn’t cry or even whine. She just said, “Momma.” I’m not sure how to capture her tone in words. It was a combination of question, longing and trust. It’s funny how so much can be communicated with just one word. Now how do you turn that down? I got her out of her crib and held her close to me for a minute before I went back into the bed. I slept very well that night.

Tuesday night Ally started to cry just as I was getting ready to go to bed. I walked into the room and her crying stopped. I said, “Ally, I will get you after I put on my jammies.” In the dark of the room she replied, “Tay.” It just warmed my heart. I’m not really sure why. Thinking back on it, it was actually a pathetic kind of response – the response of a child not immediately getting what she wants but agreeing to be patient only as long as necessary. In the end, she still started whimpering because I apparently didn’t undress and redress fast enough. Maybe it touched me so much because she’s at the age where she’s beginning to more effectively express her likes, her dislikes, and small amounts of frustration to those around her. I feel like we’re at the same crossroads. The love I have for her – the love that has been there all along – is finally being made known to me. The disconnect I have been living with since her birth is starting to fade away, allowing the language of my heart to rise over the once constant din in my brain.

Our Shady Tree's Ode to Amazing MommyBloggers

I am coming a little late to Her Bad Mother’s contest to love the heck out of other MommyBloggers you call friends. Over the past 19 months, I’ve experienced the worst lows of my life. The upside to that is that I’ve discovered just how lucky I am. Blogging and reading other blogs has been therapeutic. I’m not sure what I would have done without them. I’m adding my Ode to the post-Mother’s Day week celebration of marvelous mommies who inspire me and make me glad to be human, a woman, a mommy, a sister and a friend.

I might never have started my blog without the example of Trista. Danny had a blog and even encouraged me to create my own. Still, it wasn’t until I visited Team M.E.A.T. for the first time that I began to grasp the importance and fun of what I now know as MommyBlogging. She has been my best friend for more than a decade. I can never honestly doubt that God exists or that God loves me because of her. She is honest, hilarious, loyal, caring and a joy. We experienced the ups and downs of adoption and first-time motherhood together. We’ve experienced the surprise and tribulations of unexpectedly soon second time motherhood (hers more unexpectedly sooner than mine – HA!). When Danny’s father had an emergency double bypass surgery just a few weeks before Ally’s due date, she came to my rescue. Since Ally’s birth, she’s always been there with support and has never once made me feel like a burden – although I’m most certain I have been. Last but not least, she has an awesome MommyBlog. If you are unfamiliar with adoption you will learn a lot. Abby and Ethan are so very close to my heart. I’ve never been so honored as I was the day that Danny and I were asked to be Ethan’s godparents. I love you with all my heart, Trista!

Blogging seems to have a domino effect. I started my blog after Trista. My sister, Donielle, started her blog – Triple Happiness – after seeing mine. Donielle’s blog details the life of a multi-cultural family. Her husband, Peter, is from China. Together they made one beautiful little girl named Sophia. There is five years between Donielle and I. We fought a lot as kids, but grew closer after I went away to college. She’s the only person other than Danny with whom I’ve shared a bedroom. How much closer can you get? I would love Donielle and want to be her friend even if we weren’t related. It’s nice to be able to feel that way about your siblings. I know that not every one does. Most recently I love the fact that we get to be MommyBloggers together. I never expected to be having children with my siblings because of the age differences. Thankfully life usually doesn’t go along as expected. Because of the distance between me and my family, blogging has helped us maintain contact and see each other’s children grow up. Even though you’ve known a person for almost 30 years, it is surprising what you find out by reading each other’s blogs.

Keeping it all in the family, Trista’s husband’s sister Tracy has a wonderful blog about her family. Her children are precious and looking at Lana is like seeing baby Tracy all over again. I remember very well when she was just a tiny baby – and I mean tiny. There is a picture that I have etched in my memory that was taken when Tracy was less than a year old. I have always had a pretend love-hate relationship with Tracy’s father. We tease each other mercilessly. In this picture, I am jumping in the pool to splash Tracy’s dad and he’s wagging his finger warning me not to. Tracy’s mom is in the background holding Tracy. I will say again that she was so tiny. There were many times I would be holding Ally on my hip like Tracy’s mom and I would stop and think, “This must be what it was like to hold Tracy.” Tracy has the most spirit of anyone I know. She was in my youth group and we had so much fun together. I hope that my girls are like her. It’s hard for me to believe that she’s a wife and mother now. Isn’t she still in high school? We both have moved away from our families and that is a bond that we share now. I remember well how it felt those first few years after I moved to Virginia. I read some of Tracy’s posts and I am right there with her. I hope that when it feels that way that she knows that she’s not alone.

Danny is an only child, but he did have a friend growing up that comes as close to being his brother than anyone else – Daniel. Luckily for me, Daniel married a wonderful woman who I get the pleasure of calling my friend – Melissa. She homeschools Jack and Katrina and they are the sweetest and most polite children you’ll ever meet. I really respect the way they are raising their children and blending their family. Her children are slightly older than mine. Watching the way she parents them gives me confidence in myself. I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that other mothers have had similar experiences and have survived to tell the tale. Her friendship and advice has meant so much to me.

Although I’d like to think otherwise, Trista’s life continued on after I moved to Virginia. In order to be closer to Mark, she moved away from Grand Rapids as well. It is there that she met Jenny, the friend I’ve never met in person. Trista must have told her about my blog. One day out of the blue she responded to one of my posts about Allison’s birth. I am so thankful. I don’t know what else to say. She, like Tracy and I before her, followed Trista’s example and started a blog about her family. I hope that someday we can finally meet in person. Until then, it’s just nice to know that she’s out there planning scrapbooking weekends with Trista.

Over the past few months, Kary has been an important part of my life. At one time we worked together. She still works with Danny. Danny mentioned my blog to her and the rest has been history. We’ve bonded over Weight Watchers at first, but we share a lot more in common than that. We are able to build each other up with our strengths and understand each others weaknesses. It always makes me happy to find an email from her waiting for me. Had I happened upon Her Bad Mother before Mother’s Day, I wouldn’t have been able to add Kary to my list. It’s as if it was meant to be. Kary Nation made its glorious début today. I’m looking forward to watching her blog evolve.

Our Shady Tree is proud to be part of the MommyBloggers sub-culture. Until last night I never knew that such a thing existed. It’s amazing the things you will uncover simply by clicking on the Next Blog button. If you haven’t lost hours doing that before, it’s well worth it. You might run into freaks but you just might find some friends that will soon become a part of your daily life.

Light on Snow

I hope that everyone had a wonderful, relaxing Mother’s Day.

My gift from my children and my husband was seeing “Mamma Mia” in Las Vegas. Still, I had a nice, leisurely day that felt so wonderful. During Allison’s nap I started reading a book entitled Light on Snow by Anita Shreve. I picked it back up after Allison went to sleep for the night. By the time I went to bed, I had finished the book. I cannot tell you the last time I read a book from start to finish in one day. It was a fabulous book and a good feeling.

Finishing that book got me thinking: it would be nice to have someone to talk to about it. I took that thought further and wished I could join a book club. With two young kids, I don’t know where I would find the time and opportunity to actually go to the club to join in on the conversation. Thankfully, the digital age makes things a little simpler for those of us home bound for one reason or the other. Would any of you be interested in picking a book, reading it by a scheduled time and then posting your thoughts in a blog? One person could be chosen to start first and then we can all add comments, etc… It wouldn’t be the same as sitting in the same room discussing the book face to face, but it will also be a lot harder to get side tracked talking about something else. If you’re up for the challenge, you know where to find me.

Emma’s “Little Cuties”

Emma has become obsessed with bugs – ants in particular. When we’re outside, you’re more likely to find her crouched down with her face near the ground than you are to see her walking upright. Saturday she spent a good 45 minutes in our yard in an area where there are/were a lot of ant hills. At one point she showed me the ants she had caught. There were three or four in the palm of her hand. Only one of them survived the trip from the ground to her hand uninjured. She was completely oblivious. She said, “Aren’t they so cute?” and asked me if I’d like to hold one because they “tickle.” Allison and I went inside first Saturday. Emma stayed outside while Danny put the toys away. He had to stop her from bringing the ants in the house. Emma tried to change his mind by calling them her “little cuties.” All of this has me thinking that Emma was either an aardvark or an exterminator in her previous life. Danny took her to Big Lots this weekend and found a magnifying toy that is used to watch/torture bugs. It looks like she’s well on her way to becoming an entomologist in this one.

Imitation of Big Sister

Allison is watching everything that Emma does. Last night during their bath, Emma started to wash herself. She’s really good at taking her own bathes and does not like any part of the bath that she cannot do herself (don’t ask about getting her hair washed). As Emma washes her body parts, Allison makes the same gesture on her own body. It is really cute. I told Emma that she was Allison’s teacher. Emma looked up at me and said, “I’m not a teacher.” I said, “Yes you are, look what you’ve taught Allison.” She wasn’t very impressed.

This morning, Allison was imitating Emma again – before Emma even woke up. Emma likes to pretend she’s a lot of different things right now – a dog, a cat, a baby, etc. While I was preparing my breakfast, Allison got down on all fours and started barking (she says “fuff” instead of “woof”). She crawled around and randomly barked. It was hilarious. While I was eating breakfast she added another dimension – she bent her face down to the floor and pretended to eat. I wish that we had our video camera out to capture that. It was too cute.

Speaking of video cameras, we’re buying a new one. It is a Digital 1.5" LCD Screen Camcorder. It is smaller and doesn’t take the quality of video of our current video camera. The advantage is its size. We really want to start capturing more of the kids growing up but we’re hindered by getting the bulky video camera, setting it up, etc… This is more like a digital camera. Once it arrives, we hope to post some videos on Ashamblesburg. We hope that you’ll be seeing more of Emma and Allison in streaming video very soon.

From the Mouths of Babes

There is a Taco Bell at the intersection we go through every day to leave daycare. In recent months, Emma has been pointing that out to me on an almost daily basis. The Friday before I left for Las Vegas, I decided to take the kids there to eat. This intersection is also the through way used to get to the local Wal-Mart. It would not be an understatement to say that this intersection is a zoo.

I drove to Taco Bell’s parking lot and got the kids out of the car. As we walked up to the door, I noticed that they do not accept Discover. Since my VISA was stolen, Discover is all that I have. On top of that, I had no cash. I took a second to prepare myself for a huge fight with Emma. I told her that we couldn’t eat there. Much to my surprise, she was not the least bit upset. She likes the pizza place in the strip mall connected to Wal-Mart and asked if we could go there instead. I was very relieved – until I tried to put Allison back into her car seat. Let’s just say it wasn’t going to happen. Despite the fact that the sky could have opened up at any second, I decided it would be easier to walk to the pizza place. Both girls ate well and were well behaved in the restaurant and on the walks back and forth to the car.

While I was in Las Vegas, Danny told Emma that I would pick the girls up from school after I got home. He also said that I would take them to Taco Bell. Much to Danny’s surprise, Emma told him that they weren’t going to Taco Bell “because Mommy doesn’t have the right card.” I have no idea how I explained why we couldn’t eat at Taco Bell that night, but I must have said something about not having the right card. Not much gets past Emma these days.

Luckily I did come back from Vegas with cash (how many people can say that?). We went to Taco Bell the next night. After all the talk about Taco Bell, neither girl would eat their tacos. They ate my pizza instead…

I’ve Been Subpoenaed

Earlier this year my VISA card was stolen. As this was not the main card that I used, I didn’t notice that it was gone until the credit card company called us about some suspicious charges. One of those charges was for over $4,000. Danny and I worked with the credit card company to detail what was and what was not a valid charge. They credited our account for everything that we did not purchase.

A couple of months after this took place, I received a voice mail message from a police officer asking if I was the Jennifer [middle initial] [last name] from whom a credit card had been stolen. Wouldn’t you know that there are at least three other Jennifers with the same middle initial and last name in our area. I called him back and informed him that I was this person. It turns out that my credit card was stolen from a local car wash by an 18 year old. He never gave me my card back after I paid for my gas and car wash. This young man then enticed a minor young man to make the felony purchases using my card. When the last attempt to use my card was denied, they burned it. They got caught because they discussed what they had done within earshot of a teacher. That teacher contacted the police officer who called me.

Danny and I met with this police officer at the police station later the next week. Although we were not at fault, it was a little nerve racking to be interviewed by a police officer. I would have been really nervous if Danny wasn’t there with me. He took all of our information and our contact at the credit card company. He said that he would be in contact with us as the case developed.

Our interview took place as long as two months ago. Until this week, we hadn’t heard a word from the police officer. We did receive a form from the Commonwealth asking us to state any loses we incurred and file that with the judge for compensation. As we did not incur any financial loss, we didn’t fill anything out. The form didn’t specify when the trial was, either.

When I got home from Las Vegas, we went to the backyard to play with the kids. The subpoena was rubber banded to the back door knob. Why it was left there, we’re not sure. It didn’t seem like the most likely place for us to find it. The Commonwealth requested that I appear in court on May 15th. If I hadn’t been so exhausted from my trip, I probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep that night. I know that I did nothing wrong, but the thought of giving testimony and being cross examined scares the daylights out of me. I watch too much Law and Order.

It’s a good thing that I didn’t lose any sleep over the subpoena because the Commonwealth’s Attorney called me at work on Thursday. She called me to let me know that I would not be needed that day. They were going straight to the defendant’s plea. I won’t be needed unless he pleads not guilty. I told the Commonwealth’s Attorney that Danny handled most of the aftermath of the theft. She set my mind at ease when she told me that my testimony would consist of claiming ownership of the stolen card and indicating that I had not given the defendant authorization to use the card. I think that I can handle that. If this case, which is against the 18 year old, goes to trial, it will be sometime in June or July. The Commonwealth’s Attorney did tell me that I would soon be receiving a subpoena for the minor’s hearing. This could prove to be an interesting summer.

Vegas in a Nutshell

I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed Las Vegas. The conference was educational and enjoyable. The other attendees that I met were very helpful to me – especially as we are looking into purchasing new “tools of the trade.” Thankfully I attended this conference before we purchased anything. It was definitely enriching to me where I am today and where I want to go in the future. I attended several seminars that discussed Usability Engineers. At first I thought “Usability Engineer” sounded like a made up job; but, the more I learned, the more inspired I became. I’m not sure how to get there, but I’m going to head in that direction.

The “fun” part of the trip was just that and more. I have not slept less since Allison was a newborn. Actually, Allison probably let me get more sleep. I didn’t worry too much about that because I didn’t go to Las Vegas to sleep.

Monday night, after my seminars, we ate at the Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay. It was hands down the best burger I’ve ever had. We then went to “Mamma Mia.” It was a lot of fun – especially the first half and the finale at the end. We were singing along to “Dancing Queen” and dancing in our seats. We then visited other casinos and walked through their shops. I have never seen so many high end shops in one place in my entire life. You don’t shop on the Strip on a budget. It’s a good thing I’m not at my goal weight. There were so many gorgeous outfits in every window. (Un)fortunately none of those stores sold anything in my size. Our bank account was saved. The Bellagio was so beautiful. The flower garden was a sight to behold. The “dancing water show” outside was spectacular.

Tuesday I had the opportunity to get in some pool time. I used sun screen liberally but that was not enough. I am a lobster. I don’t know what other way to describe myself. The pain and itching I’m experiencing now reminds me of the rest and relaxation I experienced at the pool. I’d forgotten how wonderful it is to sunbathe.

Tuesday night we toured other casinos on the Strip. We went to the Venitian and Caesar’s Palace. We did our gambling at Caesar’s Palace. I ended up making 25%, but that only added up to $6.25. At one point I won $15. I should have stopped right then and there. Oh well…

Along with everyone else, Jeanne and I found ourselves eating dinner at 2am EST (11pm Vegas time) like there was nothing unusual about it. Tuesday night we ate at Mon Ami GABI in Paris on the patio. It was a perfect view of the Bellagio and we were able to watch the water show five times. The food was excellent and it was such a relaxing time.

We weren’t able to get to the Golden Nugget like I’d hoped. There just wasn’t enough time. I’ll have to save that for another trip. If I was there another day we could have, but I was ready to go home when I did. Las Vegas is definitely a land of sensory overload.

There were only two down sides to my trip – you couldn’t get a Diet Coke anywhere and my delayed flight to Roanoke. It is a sure sign that you are, in fact, in a land of sin when you couldn’t find a Diet Coke to save your life. I was anticipating racking up a lot of Coke Rewards (those lovely red caps) while I was gone. I only have about 266 more caps to collect before I earn my six can mini Coke refrigerator for work. Oh well… Las Vegas was no help for that. My flight out of Atlanta was delayed due to maintenance. Instead of getting in around 5pm, we got in about quarter to 6. I was hoping to be able to pick the girls up from daycare but it wasn’t meant to be. I still would have been able to meet the girls at daycare, but it took 25 minutes for our luggage to be unloaded. That was a long 25 minutes because I wanted to see my family. It all worked out in the end. Danny and I arrived home at the same time. The family was just as happy to see me as I was to see them.

Emma, Allison and their “Special Surprises”

Emma was excited to see what her special surprise was the minute she saw me. I was excited for her reaction, too. I got a Paris themed magnet story board for her. It was for Gigi and Jacque – two dog friends. It is something I would have loved when I was a little girl. When I pulled it out of the suitcase, I did not get the reaction I was anticipating. Instead Emma said, “I don’t want that!” She crossed her arms across her chest. “You’re not my best friend.” Apparently she was expecting candy or something to eat. I have some work to do teaching her about graciously receiving gifts. I had also bought both girls a bouncy ball with the Eiffel tower inside. Both girls were excited about that. Then, I pulled out an Olivia the pig pail for Allison. She just looked at it and then walked away.

The moral to this story is to only buy the cheap toys. They’ll think you’re the best parent in the world and it will save you $20.

Thankfully I got one gift right – Danny absolutely loves his Tiramisu chocolate balls.

Gay Pari

I am here in Vegas at the Paris hotel and loving every minute. My first conference isn't until 11am Vegas time so I'm checking in while I have the chance. We got in last night/this morning around 1am Eastern Standard time. I got a second wind that lasted until I finished unpacking. I had the most wonderful peanut butter crepes for breakfast this morning. It was so rich that I'm going to have to save my chocolate/peanut meringue for later. Tough situation, eh?

I had a great flight from Atlanta to Vegas. I sat next to someone who could very easily be Danny's best friend. I took out my MP3 player just as he was taking out his and we spent a good 2 and a half hours listening to what each other has. It certainly made the long flight tolerable. He very much complimented Danny's taste in music and we spent a lot of time talking about early 80s music in Athens. He went to law school in Athens and saw a lot of cool bands. I turned him on to Miracle Legion and the Veils. He introduced me to Luna, Morcheeba and a few other bands that I can't remember anymore. It was nice. I wish that Danny could have met him. I found out the name of his business and I'm going to send him a link to Danny's podcast.

I have a pretty full day of conferences today and I'm looking forward to meeting my peers and getting some new ideas. After that, we're off to Mandalay for dinner at Burger Bar and to see "Mamma Mia". I am so excited!

I talked to Danny this morning and he and the girls are doing well. While he was getting ready this morning, Emma was pushing Ally around in a baby doll stroller. Periodically she was handing her toys, too. I'm glad that they are doing well.

I'm loving life here at the Paris. I'll post again tomorrow.

Au Revoir!

Easter Egg Hunt

We had a great time at the Easter Egg Hunt the day before Easter. It was held at the Baptist Church that Allison's daycare teacher attends. We finally got the pictures back to show it.

Emma is a seasoned veteran this year.

We thought the way that Ally held and picked up her basket was so adorable. She didn't take long to figure out how Easter Egg hunts work.

Happy sisters with their full Easter baskets.

Isn't She Lovely?

Danny tried to take a picture of Allison in natural light, but the flash went off. I think this picture is really cute anyway.

Vegas, Baby!

Sunday I leave for a technical writer’s conference in Las Vegas. I am getting so excited! I am staying at Paris Las Vegas and it looks spectacular. There is a courtyard type area with people dressed up in period Parisian costumes and a reproduction of the Eiffel Tower. I was initially going by myself and figured that I would probably just spend my free time alone. It would still be nice to have a break from routine, but not necessarily a lot of fun. When Jeanne, my friend from work, found out that I was going, she asked to join me. Her beach vacation that she had planned didn’t work out and she had just the right number of vacation days left. I told her that she might get bored because I would be in seminars from 8:30 to 5 and she said, “So what? I’ll be at the pool.” Enough said. Since my hotel room is for two people, it is a relatively inexpensive vacation for her. I think we’re going to have a great time together.

We just booked tickets to see “Mama Mia” – the Abba musical - on Monday night. I think that it is going to be fabulous. Did I say I was so excited??? I’m also planning on going to downtown to Frank Sinatra’s Vegas. My Grandma used to go to the Golden Nugget and bring us back their used decks of cards. I always liked that. I’m definitely going to go there and gamble a little. I know that Grandma will be there in spirit – and you know that I’ll be buying some of those cards, too.

Viva, Las Vegas!

I've Finally Been Begged to SING!

There is one lone person in this world who actually begs to hear me sing – Ally. We had watched a Wiggles DVD on Sunday morning and for the rest of the day I would bust out in song (“Who’s that in the garden / Eating all our red, red Roses? / It’s Dorothy!”). I couldn’t get that song out of my head. That evening, Ally and I were sitting on the couch and I started singing the Dorothy the Dinosaur song. After a few minutes, Ally said, “Sing.” It took me a second to figure out what she was saying. This was the first time she used that word. So, I started to sing about Dorothy again. I didn’t get very far before she said, “No.” I asked her what she wanted me to sing and she said, “Sun.” Her daycare class has apparently been singing a song that I have learned by watching Barnie. I have no idea what the name of this song is, but here’s how it goes:

”Mr. Sun, sun, Mr. Golden Sun
Please shine down on me.
Oh, Mr. Sun, sun, Mr. Golden Sun
Hiding behind a tree.
These little children are asking you
To please come out so we can play with you.
Oh, Mr. Sun, sun, Mr. Golden Sun
Please shine down on me.”

So I started singing the song. Her face lit up as I sang. She even joined in when I sang “sun” and “please”. She really likes this song. I must have sung it ten times before she wanted to play something else.

Although the tempation is there, I am not letting this sudden interest in my singing go to my head. One person’s opinion out of several billion doesn’t amount to much - even if she is my own daughter. Toddlers are the most discerning critics. Besides, in no time she’ll take after her big sister and beg me to stop singing. I'll enjoy my moments in the "sun" now, though.

"Side! Side!"

It’s that time of year when the kids are clamoring to spend time outside. It’s even more fun this year because Allison is getting into the act. If she even hears the word outside she starts demanding “Side! Side!” until you can’t take it anymore. In case you’re wondering, when Ally says side it never means inside.

Monday night after dinner we went out on our deck. Each of the girls took a ball with them and we had a lot of fun playing out there. The girls were giggling and screeching. Toward the end of the evening, Emma wanted to play the stop and go game. I had no idea that they were playing games like that yet. So I started saying “green light go” and “red light stop” over and over again. Both girls had a blast with that. Emma took a few seconds to stop each time and Ally seemed to get go and stop mixed up from time to time. She just thought it was great to be running around with Emma. Ally also like yelling “Go!” and “Fwap!” At some point I stopped saying go and stop. Emma went back to playing with her ball. The next thing I know, Ally is tugging on my pants. When I looked down at her, she yelled “Fwap!” That was so darn cute. I couldn’t help but play with her again.

Jenny, a friend I haven’t yet met, commented on one of my posts that no one remembers being born, but we do remember how we were mothered (and fathered). I thought about that as dragged the kids back in the house against their will. Those are the memories I want Emma and Ally to have of our family. The best part is that those memories are fun for everyone.

Introducing Emma to Adoption

From the very beginning, before Emma ever existed to us, Danny and I decided that we always wanted our child to know where he/she came from. We didn’t ever want that information to come as a shock to him/her. We didn’t want our child to grow up feeling ashamed of his/her roots. We feel that keeping that a secret from the child at any point would give that impression. That being said, it’s not something we plan on dwelling upon, either. A child’s birth into a family, no matter how that happens, is an important part of that child’s history, but it is certainly not the only thing. The challenge is to give the right amount of information at the right time in the best way for your child.

Shortly after Emma’s third birthday I decided it was time to start talking with her specifically about her adoption. She’s getting to an age now where she is curious about the differences between boys and girls, being a mommy and even about death. She uses her baby doll, Kelsey, to work through much more complex issues than I would have expected at such an early age. If she is exploring the concept of death, I felt that she was ready to learn more about what adoption is and how she became part of our family.

One afternoon she started talking about how babies grow in a mommy’s tummy and then eat from the mommy’s breasts. She continued to say that Allison grew in my tummy and that she did, too. I decided that was the right moment. I told her that she grew in E’s tummy. She said, “No I didn’t. I grew in your tummy.” I told her that I wished that she did grow in my tummy and then reminded her of the pictures we have of her when she was growing in E’s tummy. She started to get upset so I changed the subject. It didn’t bother her for long. As soon as the subject changed, she was running around like normal. I hoped that I had done the right thing.

A couple of weeks ago I had another opportunity to talk with Emma about her adoption. At the library, we ran into J, our social worker during the adoption process. We chatted for a little while and Emma asked who she was. I told her that J was our big helper when we adopted her. We continued to talk with J for a little while and that was it. I don’t know if she understood or not. She didn’t say anything about it and eventually ran over to the video section.

Last night, on the way home from work, Emma was full of conversation. I can’t remember now just how the conversation turned toward talk of adoption, but it did. Emma said, “Allison grew in your tummy and I grew in E’s tummy. I wish that I grew in your tummy.” I said, “I wish that you grew in my tummy, too. But, the most important thing is that we are together now.” I reached back and started to tickle her leg. We both laughed and the conversation moved on to other news from her day. Although she seemed upset by the thought a few months ago, she had been listening and she’s starting to understand. I was happy with the way that I responded to her. I want our talks about her beginnings to be natural. I’m sure that there will be many serious discussions about it as she gets older, but I want the gravity of those discussions to be initiated by her.

When I told Danny about it last night I got a little chocked up. I so much want Emma to grow up confident in who she is and where she came from. I want her to know that she was adopted in love on both sides of her family. Her birth family loves her so much and they chose adoption because they wanted her to have a mommy and a daddy who loved her and cared for her in ways that they couldn’t at the time she was born. Her adoptive family is just so thrilled and excited to have her in our lives. Our family would never be complete without her. Most of all, I want her to know that Danny and I couldn’t love her one bit more if she did grow in my tummy. She is just as much of a miracle to us as Allison. Each member of our family is unique and has a special story about how they entered our family. The most special thing is that we are a family. I hope that both of my girls grow up knowing that.

Long and Winding Road

My Weight Watchers leader sent me a postcard about a month ago saying that weight loss is a “long and winding road.” That is so true. Right now, there’s more wind to my journey than anything else. Four times since November I’ve reached a certain weight and then something happens. Then, I have to work my way back to this certain weight. That happened again last week. I took off the vacation weight and got to X weight. Now I’m most assuredly above that. It could all be a coincidence, but it doesn’t really matter. Somehow I need to break through that barrier. I’m going to try something else.

There are many ways to see your weight loss success than just the number on the scale. This is something that I know, but that scale trumps all other signs. I think that just about every dieter I’ve ever met says the same thing. You can get a good amount of exercise in, stay in complete control of your eating, notice that your clothes are loose – even straight out of the dryer – and feel great. But, the moment you step on that scale and the number does not equate with success you feel horrible. This is part of what can make being a Weight Watcher hard. The first thing you do at your meeting is weigh in.

I have made a commitment to get regular exercise. Not only do I need to do this to enhance weigh loss, I need to do this to improve my mood and to feel strong again. For the month of May, exercise is going to be my focus. In order to give that my complete concentration, I’m not going to use my home scale – not even once. I am going to all of my Weight Watcher meetings, but I’m going to turn my back to the read out screen and keep my member booklet in my membership folder. That way I cannot see what the scale said or be tempted to take a peek later. My rationality is that if I don’t see what the scale says, I won’t know when I’ve reached that magic number that I cannot shake. That should take out the mental component. In place of watching the scale, I’m going to look at my measurements. I took my measurements this morning. I’m planning on taking them again on the 15th and the 29th. I will use those as a measure of how my efforts are paying off. I am hoping that when I see my weigh in on May 31st that it will only serve to back up the changes I’m seeing instead of amplifying or negating them.

Looking at your weekly weigh over a month’s period instead of week by week can also clue you in to patterns that might exist. Perhaps it takes a week or two before results show up on the scale. When you’re not living weigh in to weigh in, you can look at those things more rationally. I no longer want to eat, not eat, exercise or not exercise because of what I’ll see on the scale. I want to do those things to reestablish a healthy lifestyle. In the long run, that attitude will straighten out the path I’m on because my motivation will be in the correct place. If making this change takes off some of the pressure, I’ll continue this every month. I am an impatient person by nature, but even I can hold off on the “instant gratification” when it keeps me healthier and happier.

Shoe Shocked!

I bought some new shoes yesterday. It was the first time I have gone shoe shopping since my pregnancy. I have noticed that many of my shoes felt loose after I went back to work, but I figured that my feet stretched them during my pregnancy. Still, I decided not to buy any more until absolutely necessary. Friday, the sole of my black dress shoes gave out and I didn’t have anything at home to replace them. Off to Payless I went.

I always shop for shoes at Payless for two reasons: the shoes are affordable and they carry my size – 9 ½ Wide. Regular stores either don’t carry wide width shoes or, when they do, they are for the severely elderly and very expensive. Payless always has something for me, even if I have to go up to a size 10 Regular. I found a nice pair of shoes as soon as I got there. I tried them on and I almost fell over when I tried to walk. They were too big. That surprised me. I found the same pair in 9 Wide. Those were too wide. My feet were slipping around inside. Size 9 Regular fit like a glove. To make sure that this was not a fluke – and to take advantage of their BOGO sale, I tried on another pair of dress shoes. Same thing. My feet have shrunk!

If I weren’t wearing said pair of size 9 Regular shoes right now, I would think I was dreaming. I have heard that women’s feet can get larger as a result of pregnancy. I have had the opposite luck. Whoo Hoo! A couple more pregnancies and I’ll be a size 6 Narrow. I can hardly wait. Yes, I am checking to see if Danny is reading this.

There was more joy in my shoe shopping experience yesterday. I had my two munchkins with me. Emma was very interested in helping me pick out shoes. She must pay a lot of attention to the shoes that other women wear. She kept picking shoes out of the box and saying, “Mommy, do you want these? [Becci] [Jeanne] has some just like it!” She reminded me in a way of that American Express commercial with the woman who thinks the stranger is complementing her shoes when she's actually complimenting her twins. Allison was pulling shoes out, too, but not to show them to me. She liked to toss them on the floor and move on to another box. She would put them back when I told her to, but I had to check because she put them wherever it was convenient. Just as I was about ready to pay, Emma told me she had to use the potty. The store does not have a public restroom so I asked the clerk to hold my shoes. She told me that O’Charley’s was probably our best bet. I turned around to leave and Allison was gone. When I called for her, I heard a little chuckle. I walked over to the farthest aisle and there she was holding two twelve packs of men’s socks. Just as I got to her, she dropped on pack of socks and then took off running. She must have figured that two packs would have slowed her down. Boy did she squeal as Emma and I ran after her. If we weren’t in public, I would have been laughing myself silly. That girl loves to be chased. In a chase she can cut corners like the Keystone Cops. It looks like she’s defying gravity. I love it. Thankfully we were able to catch Ally, put the socks back where they belonged and get Emma to a potty on time. I guess I owe O’Charley’s a lunch.

Oh, Yeah! One Last Thought for the Week

With my doctor’s appointment Monday and Emma’s traumatic fire drill experience,* I completely forgot to report back on “God or the Girl”. So, here goes:

I enjoyed the last episode but I could have lived without the long recaps of each of the men’s stories. I imagine they did that in case there were first time viewers. Annoying, but forgiveable.

I was not surprised in the least that Joe decided against the priesthood. I really never got the sense that he was called. Without calling into question his faith, it felt more to me like he only considered it to make his parents happy. I know another pleaser when I see one.

With Dan, I felt that his decision could go either way. I wasn’t far off – he decided to stop the discernment process for a while and just be. He didn’t feel God had shown him where he was called. After watching the recap of his story, the carrying of the cross seemed almost unrelated to his discernment process. His meeting with Amber was the turning point. Not carrying his cross. I don’t think that it was a stunt or a ploy. All the same there was a disconnect there for me. Did anyone else get that feeling?

I was open and honest about the fact that I would have been disappointed if Steve chose not to join the seminary. For some reason his story spoke to me. I got chocked up when he told his home parish that he was going to start his priestly formation after finishing up with his work in Nebraska. Too bad I live in the Richmond Diocese and not the Arlington Diocese. Still, it’s not to far to attend one of his masses someday – assuming he doesn’t become a missionary.

I was really happy that they did a follow up six months later. I’m glad that each of them are at peace with their lives and with their decisions. I am very thankful that A&E created and broadcast this show. What a wonderful tool for youth ministry.

*She’s using the bathroom now, but I literally had to drag her in to the bathroom in the pediatrician’s office because she saw the fire alarm inside. She calmed down after I locked the door to prevent her from escaping, but she kept her hands over her ears the entire time. I asked the doctor about what happened. He said that children with a lot of ear problems can be hypersensitive to noise. That should clear up as she grows and her inner ear matures.

Down Came the Rain

I have been giving a lot of thought to some of the things that my ob/gyn said during my appointment on Monday. Writing my entry that afternoon was very therapeutic as well. I assumed that once my panic attacks went away without taking Paxil that my post-partum depression was over. Still, I haven’t felt myself since the moment Allison was born. It’s as if the strong, happy, confident Jennifer left my body in much the same way as Allison did. Clearly 18 months later, as Dr. M said, I’m still in the middle of it.

On Wednesday I checked Down Came the Rain out of the library. It is Brooke Sheilds’ book about her journey through post-partum depression. I wished that I had bought that book when it first came out. It would have comforted me and it might have led me to take action and have a more pleasant experience last year. There is a quotation on the back of the book that could not more accurately sum up the way that I felt throughout the first five to six months of Allison’s life:

“At first I thought what I was feeling was just exhaustion, but with it came an overriding sense of panic that I had never felt before. Rowan kept crying, and I began to dread the moment when Chris would bring her back to me. I started to experience a sick sensation in my stomach; it was as if a vise were tightening around my chest. Instead of the nervous anxiety that often accompanies panic, a feeling of devastation overcame me.”

I am not quite finished with the book yet, but aside from changing names, locations and relationships, Sheilds could have been writing this book about my experience. Reading that book would be like reading my diary. It amazes me that people with entirely different life experiences could have so much in common:

We both overcame infertility issues to become pregnant. We couldn’t understand why we weren’t ecstatic over our daughters because we were “lucky” to have been pregnant in the first place. Because we weren’t feeling “grateful” or “blessed” or “appreciative” we felt guilty.

We had wonderful pregnancies with few complications. We never felt better or more confident about ourselves. We didn’t think about the possibility of having post-partum depression because it just wouldn’t affect us.

We each experienced a family tragedy/emergency three weeks prior to our deliveries.

We both planned on natural childbirth and ended up with c-sections.

We didn’t think that we loved our babies.

We both have loved ones who committed suicide. Our experiences post-partum made us feel incredibly close to those loved ones.

Escape is a common theme. We wanted to be anywhere other than where our daughters were.

We felt that we could not ask for help if we were good mothers. Good mothers did not pawn off their responsibilities on other people.

We both had been exercising regularly before our deliveries and then stopped altogether.

Reading this book really feels like rubbing a soothing salve over my heart. I am not alone. It was not willfully being selfish, resentful and scared. There is a problem with the way my body has adjusted to delivering Allison. I don’t always have to feel this way. The Jennifer that I want to be can come back. I cannot control whatever it is that caused this, but I can control how I respond to it. I’m beginning to form a plan of action to get Jennifer back. Dr. M. wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant. I’ve filled that and will not stop taking it without her advice and guidance. The “Gee, I’m feeling better so don’t need this anymore” approach hasn’t worked the past three times I’ve gone cold turkey. She referred me to a counselor whom she feels has an excellent track record with long term post-partum depression and some of the related issues I need to address. My first appointment is Wednesday afternoon. I am also making a commitment to getting regular exercise. Last week I took walked six out of seven days. On Sunday, while pushing fifty pounds of baby up and down the hills in my neighborhood, I caught a glimpse the old me. The sights, sounds and sensations I experienced on that walk felt like déjà vu. It was absolutely wonderful.

As I walked past Allison’s crib on my way to bed last night, I peaked in and had a wave of wonder wash over me. I wanted so badly to pick her up and never let her go. That felt absolutely wonderful, too.

The Girl’s Gotta Grow

Allison had her 18 month check up this morning. Even though I know that she had grown a lot recently, I still think of her as tiny. After all, Tiny is what the nursery nurses called her the first three days of her life. That’s going to have to change. As of today, Allison weighs 26 pounds 12 ounces. She’s in the 75th percentile in weight. She is 35 inches long! She’s now in the 95th percentile in height. She’s gone from the 25th to the 75th/95th percentile in nine short months. You grow, Ally! I can't wait to see what you'll become.

Look at those arms and legs! She had to grow into her own skin.

If you look at her now, she already comes up above Emma's shoulders.

Emma's Alarm

So my plan today was to write something light and funny to counterbalance my most recent posts. I have some cute stories about the girls coming into their own as sisters. They really are cute together. They spontaneously started rolling a ball back and forth between each other without Danny or me playing with them. They’re even getting rough and tumble when they play on the couch. Just last night they got into a play slapping match that was so hilarious. I can’t believe that they are at an age where they can play fight and laugh the entire time. Allison constantly asks for “Memma” whenever she’s not around. It warms the heart. That was my plan – to relay those stories and share with everyone just how much Emma and Allison are sisters. After I talked with Emma’s preschool teacher this morning, that all changed.

Emma has trouble with “loud” potties. There was a time when I couldn’t get her to use a public restroom. Even now she covers her ears every time we flush when we’re not at home. When Emma started preschool, she didn’t like using the potties there, either. That problem went away after she became more comfortable there. Last week changed that. During a prescheduled fire drill, Emma was alone in the bathroom with the door closed going to the bathroom when the alarm went off. She hasn’t pottied at daycare since. She refuses to. Her teacher, Miss J, was hoping that it wouldn’t last long and that the weekend would change things. It didn’t. Last night before I picked Emma up she had an accident. She hadn’t used the bathroom one time between 5:30 that morning and 5:30 that evening. No wonder she had an accident. I thanked her teacher for telling me what was happening. I told her to tell Emma that if she gets a good note on her daily form about using the potty that I would take her to “Betty’s” (She calls the Food Lion next door “Betty’s” because of a cashier she’s developed a friendship with) and get a treat.

After I talked with Emma’s teacher, I spoke with, L, the director. I was upset because of the state Emma was in when I picked her up the night before. They changed her pants and panties after the accident, but they never changed her socks or shoes. I didn’t notice that until I got home. Her socks were as close to dripping wet as they could be. Her toes were shriveled up like prunes. I felt so bad that I didn’t think to check her socks and shoes when I picked her up in the first place. I just never would have thought that she would be left that way. I told the director what happened and asked to be called from now on when Emma has an accident. I really like the director of this daycare and that went well. From the beginning she has dealt well with any concerns that I have had. I got the impression that I wouldn’t find Emma like that again. I then went on to mention that she had her accident because she hadn’t used the bathroom all day. I then told her about my meeting with Miss J. Then she really got angry. She said that the teachers were given full notice of the fire drill and that there is no reason why any child should have been in the bathroom when that happened. I almost wished that she hadn’t said that. It’s easier to live with thinking that it was a simple accident. It’s still an accident. I don’t believe for one second that Miss J put Emma in that situation on purpose. But it could have and should have been avoided. My poor, sensitive girl.

I visited the preschool again during my lunch break and I feel much better about the situation. Although the trip to “Betty’s” didn’t seem to do the trick, the fact that today is the day that the ice cream truck stops by did help some. She hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet, but she sat on the potty twice without getting hysterical. I also talked some more with L. While I was talking with her, another trusted and loved worker, L2, overheard. She spends a lot of time at the preschool building. Emma likes her a lot. She said that she would help Emma and work with Miss J. Hopefully this situation will smooth over very soon.

And here I thought that life would get easier with potty training…

Post Script

I have touched Allison's head when it is in a state of goopiness too many times to count. It's not all that it's cracked up to be. ;)

I prefer it clean and dry - just like the first I touched and kissed it.

Just My Allison

I went to see Dr. M., my new ob/gyn, this morning. The reason that I mention this is because I still rehash Allison's birth on a daily basis - especially at night. I fantasize about what it would have been like to have vaginally delivered Allison all the time or different scenarios that might have allowed for that to happen. What if I hadn’t let myself be induced? What if I did try using an ironing board to elevate my feet above my head to use gravity to try to get Allison in a better position (what the doula would have had me do had she known why I wasn’t dilating)? When I see women having babies on TV - especially those who want/wanted to go au natural - I get depressed and cry. Discovery Health channel is not my friend when Babies: Special Delivery or Birth Day are on. 18 months is far too long to be caught up in something like that. I know this. I talked with the doctor about this today. She agreed.

When I try to explain my feelings and thought about this it just seems that they don’t understand. For them it’s enough to know that one or both of us would have died had the surgery not happened. It’s not that simple for me. I wish that it was. There are two parts of this issue. The first is that I put a lot of unnecessary pressure on myself and care far too much what others – specifically my mother – think about me. Truth be told, I wanted an epidural from the beginning. What changed my mind? My mother chose not to use pain relief for her five deliveries. Although it’s not something I remember us discussing during my pregnancy, whenever she had ever talked about childbirth to me growing up she always talked about the natural way being the “best” way. If she ever mentioned a caveat about situations where childbirth went wrong, I don’t remember. I wanted to be a good mother and I wanted to look good in her eyes. I was worried that I would cave in and get pain relief without having someone there who would disapprove. That’s where the doula came in and I unknowingly threw myself into the hippy natural childbirth arena. Not using pain medication was my mother's bias, not mine. The whole truth is that I need to learn to live for myself and not worry about what others think, even my mother. At 34, I was worried about what my mother would say to me when she got to the hospital the morning after Allison was born. I remember making a point that she wouldn’t have been born on her own. The funny thing is that it was all for naught. She said that if a c-section is required for a 5 and a half pound baby to be born there must have been something wrong. There was no judgment there except my own.

The second part of the equation was hiring the doula and getting involved in the current wave of natural childbirth Nazis. K is very nice and I enjoyed working with her. She made me excited about giving birth to Allison. The labor preparation that she provided, though, was focused almost strictly on the ideal – how I wanted my vaginal delivery without the use of pain medication to go. Other than talking about ways to cope with back labor, there wasn’t much discussion at all about handling or preparing for situation outside of this “ideal.” At one point she asked Danny and me to draw pictures of how we envisioned Allison’s birth. My stick figure drawing was a picture of me smiling as I reach down to touch Allison’s head as she’s being born. K thought this was a wonderful picture. We simply didn’t discuss how I would feel or what I would do if this vision weren’t possible for whatever reason. When all you plan for is the “ideal” in any situation you are setting yourself up for heartache. Now, when I look at or think about that drawing I am reminded again of what I missed out on.

Another strong focus of our meetings was about me being in control of my labor and delivery – not the doctors and nurses at the hospital. We talked about the standard operating procedures at most hospitals and how “unnecessary” many of them are. They rob women of their dignity and control to convenience hospital staff. What difference does it make if I am allowed to eat and drink during labor or wear my own gown? Not that there aren’t egomaniac doctors in this world, but if I or any laboring woman makes a few changes to the standard hospital procedures, what have we really gained? We’re not really in control. Women who squat down and birth their children in the fields have no more control over it than Westerners do. No matter who you are, where you live or what you’re doing at the time, childbirth stops you in your tracks. It’s a 3 ton boulder rolling down a mountainside.

That being said, it wasn’t working with K as much as the reading she encouraged me to do that has helped mess me up. I read several of her books on childbirth and midwifery. There were two basic premises behind these books: 1) your body knows exactly what it’s doing and as long as you allow it to do its work through relaxation and maintaining a positive attitude (thinking positive thoughts, envisioning the opening of the cervix and the baby moving down the birth canal, etc.) you will be fine and 2) there were truly very few labor and delivery “complications” that require medical intervention. Most things considered a “complication” by the “medical establishment” can be overcome by time, patience, allowing the body to do its work. Those books glossed over the high rates of childbirth related fatalities and injuries prior to the “patientization” of laboring mothers. They often held up women in Africa as the gold standard. Many of these books spoke about the nearly pain-free deliveries experienced by those African women. Why did they get lucky and have pain-free deliveries? It was all in their attitude. Although it was not expressly written in any of these books or believed by any of these authors, I took from this the understanding that if I didn’t experience a drug-free vaginal delivery that it would be my fault. This even includes those things that could be “blamed” on the doctor. After all, I chose a hospital delivery attended by a member of the “medical establishment” instead of a home birth attended by a midwife.

So, after the surgery, I pretty much felt like a failure as a woman. Allison and I were kept healthy by it, but still I failed/missed out on this rite of passage. On top of flunking, I wasn’t as strong as my mother because I begged for an epidural and didn’t get to touch Allison’s goopy, yet unborn head. That’s failure on top of guilt on top of disappointment. [Have I mentioned how this entire thing also is just not fair?] No wonder I’ve been so depressed over the past 18 months.

During my appointment I gave Dr. M. the explanation Dr. G gave me after he delivered Allison – my uterus was clamped down on her and would not let go of her. He told me at the time that Allison would never have been born without the surgery and I had done the very best that I could. I believed him, but… [insert fantasy of how this could have been overcome through not allowing the induction to occur, etc.]. Dr. M listened to what I said and then told me something very valuable - something not mentioned in the books those midwives wrote: there are doctors in Africa right now whose only job is to rebuild and repair the bladders and rectums of women who labored for days, for the same reasons I needed a c-section, and the baby never came out. Knowing that what happened during my delivery happens to many women has made me feel much better. Women’s bodies may very well be equipped to deliver children, but they don’t always work the way they should. Nature is far from perfect and natural is not always the “best” for mother or baby. I didn’t fail any test. There wasn’t any amount of positions I could have used or exercises I could have done to change the ultimate outcome. I wonder how long I would have been allowed to labor unsuccessfully outside of a hospital? What a luxury it is to be able to obsess (Trista, you’ve just got your wish) about woulda, coulda, shoulda, blah, blah, blah. Now I just need to figure out how to let go of all this. I thought that I beat this dead horse to the curb for the last time after Allison’s first birthday, but I haven’t. No matter what happened to get her here, I should rejoice in it because she's alive, happy and healthy. When I told Dr. M that at least once a day when I look at Allison I revisit how she was born, she was taken aback. She asked me if I think about the adoption a lot when I look at Emma. I said, no. To me, she's just my Emma. I want that for me and Allison, too.

Emma's Easter Package

Emma got so excited last night when I told her that the package I found on the front porch was for her. I got so tickled when she pointed to herself and said, “The package is for me?” It was an Easter package from Emma’s maternal birth family. We opened it as soon as we got upstairs. Even Ally got in the spirit. When I put the package on the kitchen table and Emma climbed on a chair to start opening it, she was nipping at my heels to get “Up! Up!” herself. Two sets of eyes got really wide when Emma opened the gift to reveal a box full of popcorn and Easter candy. Before I could say a word, Emma closed the box (nearly on Ally’s fingers) and said, “We need to put this up until we eat supper.” I walked over, took the box from Emma and put it on the counter. From the look on Ally’s face you would have thought I’d taken her pacie and blankie baby away. As soon as she started howling, Emma went over and started loving on her. I was the softy. I opened the box and took out a small bag of jelly beans and said that it would be okay to have a few while I fixed dinner. Emma sat next to Ally and judiciously passed out some jelly beans. The girls were happily quiet for a few seconds before Emma said, “Allison, we can only have a few jelly beans, okay? We need to eat our supper.” Ally immediately replied in agreement, “Kay.” And to my amazement they did only eat a few jelly beans. Neither got upset when I took the rest away. Emma is growing up to become a wonderful big sister.

On Being a Writer

I have been thinking again about writing my own novel. It’s been a long time gone since I gave that any serious thought. Most of the time I find these thoughts are easy to push aside. I just remind myself that one thing that seems consistent among authors is their continuous, overwhelming urge to write. I don’t have that. I never have. I’m not that disciplined and am easily distracted. So, does that mean I’m not author material? Who’s to say? I’d hate to come to my death bed and regret not trying to write a novel. That being said, not wanting to regret not doing this or that on my death bed hasn’t stopped me from not doing those things before.

Reading Southern Daughter, a biography about Margaret Mitchell, is definitely encouraging thoughts about my own writing. Learning about the good, the bad and the ugly in Peggy Mitchell’s life is really inspiring to me. It was her strengths just as much as her flaws that made it possible for Scarlett, Rhett, Melanie and Ashley to be born. Perhaps there is a story somewhere that could only be written by a procrastinator with my life experiences. I’ve also enjoyed reading about her writing process. Other than originally naming Scarlett “Pansy,” (we can all breathe a sigh of relief here) the most interesting thing I have discovered about Gone With the Wind is that Mitchell actually started writing it with the very last chapter. I have never been more satisfied with the conclusion of a book as I have always been with Gone With the Wind. Knowing now that she started with “I don’t give a damn” only increases my admiration.

All of my creative writing professors drilled the same mantra into my head – to be a good writer you must to read, read, read. I am planning on reading biographies on other authors I enjoy in the future. You never know when or where my waxing and waning desire to tell a story will collide with just the right direction and inspiration.

[Un]biased Announcement and Review

As of today, you can stream The Detuned Revue directly from Danny’s blog! He’s made it even easier for the masses to access some interesting music.

Speaking of which, Danny loaded his latest installment on my MP3 player over the weekend and I think that it is his best podcast to date. The music flows together beautifully and, despite several songs that led me to contemplation, it was relaxing and refreshing – quite appropriate for an early spring day. Damien Dempsey’s song grabs your attention right away. His voice commands it and the conflicting verses and chorus hold it. Carmen Rizzo’s song was my favorite of the grouping. Neil Young has such a wonderful voice. I can listen to it all day. This song is very interesting to meditate upon, especially in the Easter season. I would be interested to hear what other people think of Destroyer. I can honestly say that their song was not out of place in the podcast, but I didn’t care for it that much. The lead singer’s distinctive voice, unlike Damien Dempsey’s, irritated me.

So, check out the tenth installment of The Detuned Revue. You won’t need a money back guarantee!

A Horse Named Dick

On our first full day in Charleston we all took a carriage ride through the historic district. Dick was our horse. Allison fell asleep about half way through the ride so I was able to concentrate on what the guide was saying (hence enjoy the rest of the experience). Margaret Mitchell spent some time in Charleston and we got to see the house where she stayed and hear about some people who influenced several characters in Gone With the Wind, including good old Rhett Butler. Although I've always loved Gone With the Wind, I've never read anything on Margaret Mitchell's life. Our carriage ride encouraged me to check out a biography from the library. She led a very interesting life. Given the way I felt about being a mother after we got back, I found her views on being a woman, motherhood and childbirth very interesting. I look forward to going back to Charleston some day sans my beautiful children.

Danny has one regret about our carriage ride - he didn't think to ask the guide for a picture of her elbows and ankles until it was too late. She talked about the cultural standards of Charleston when it was young and kept returning to the theme that gentlemen were not to see a woman's elbows or ankles. In fact, if a man saw a women "compromised" in such a way three times, he was obliged to marry her.

If Sisters Ruled the World...

This picture of Emma and Allison walking hand in hand on the battle field of Fort Sumter is too precious!

Visting the Children's Museum

Charleston had a nice Children's Museum. Emma, Allison and I spent an afternoon there on our trip. The favorite exhibits were the water play area, the shrimp boat and the toddler's only area. They also had a grocery store, a medieval castle and an arts and crafts room. The girls had a blast together.

God or the Girl

As a Catholic, I am always intrigued to read about shows dealing specifically with my faith that aren’t torrid exposes or “out to get” the Church. It could be very easy to be and remain offended about the way in which the Roman Catholic Church is portrayed in the media. It’s a good thing that Catholics don’t riot every time our faith is mocked or persecuted in this world. I started reading commentary about a new reality show called God or the Girl several weeks ago in various magazines. Given that there is a priest scandal around every corner, there was no way I was not going to watch a show dealing with young men contemplating the priesthood. Worse case scenario I would simply change the channel. I was not disappointed. God has used this show in my life. I invite you to see what it has to say to you.

God or the Girl is chronicling the journey of four young men as they discern whether they are called to be Roman Catholic priests. I have enjoyed the stories of each. Mike is a good Catholic man and it’s nice to know that such men are out there. I can relate to Joe’s desire to please everyone, especially those most important to him. I watch Dan and his zealousness and am in awe. I had no idea that there were Catholic people like him. I wish that I knew him or someone like him. Without taking away from the other men on the show, Steve’s journey is the most radical. He left a successful business career to embark on life as a missionary. It’s not the material goods that he is giving up that impresses me the most. He is giving up his comfort zone. No matter what his decision may be (I can’t wait for Sunday night!) I have a great deal of respect for him. He picked up his cross just as literally as Dan did.

Another thing that interested me about God or the Girl was the journey of discernment. My father is studying to be a permanent deacon. He's never considered himself to be a student and reading and writing do not come easily for him. Still, he's answering the call he has and is taking seminars and college courses that require nothing but reading and writing. I couldn't be more proud. Also, when I was just out of college I contemplated joining the Daughters of St. Paul. Watching this show reminds me so much of that time in my life. To be honest, I looked in that direction more because I thought no man would ever want to date me then because I had a “calling.” It was not wasted time or energy, though. During my discernment and visits with the sisters, I gained a lot of respect for myself and met wonderful people I never would have met otherwise. My time with them and Sr. Margaret Michael in particular taught me that I am precious to God. Something so simple that I should have been KNOWN long ago made a huge impact on my life.

Today, my faith is lacking. I have always been a social person and a follower of sorts. When I am around people who love God and are committed to the Catholic Church, so am I. When I’m not, I’m lazy. I would love for people to think otherwise, but that is a lie. I know how to say the “right things.” I know the right vocabulary but it’s pretty much a façade. I have struggled with joining another Christian church that is closer to where I live. I’ve talked about this with Danny. He told me to give it up and he is right. I’m Catholic. I may not be practicing right now, but I’m Catholic. I love the Church I was raised in. The trouble is that I feel no personal connection to God. I don’t know how to pray. I don’t know how to build a personal relationship with Jesus. Or, maybe it’s that I don’t put forth the effort to even get started. I feel that way about a lot of my relationships right now. I’m on autopilot. I want to be a better Christian, a better wife, a better mother, a better friend. All of that takes energy. The little energy I have gets used up treading water. I have been unwilling to give more. I have been resentful of the sacrifices I have to make to be wife, mother, sister, friend, child of God. Watching God or the Girl has been a slap in the face – a much needed slap in the face.

The most profound moment of God or the Girl for me so far has dealt with Fr. Jorge, a beautiful priest who left his family and his country to minister to the poor in Guatemala. Steve, a young man contemplating the priesthood, went to stay with Fr. Jorge to find out first hand what the life of a missionary priest is like. Steve told Fr. Jorge that he felt guilty taking food from the people because they have nothing. Fr. Jorge said, “All I can give is my life.” Is that not true of all of us where ever we are? I have been given so many gifts in this life and what I focus on is what I’m giving up. How very selfish. I think that if I am willing to give of my very life, I have found the beginnings of my personal relationship with God. I have found the spark that I need to be the better wife, mother and friend that I long to be. God has found me where I am and is still calling me home. I hope (I can not yet say pray) that I will take Him up on His invitation.

If you haven’t had the opportunity to watch this show, I encourage you to check it out. As for me, don’t call me on Sunday night after 10pm. I won’t be answering the phone. I am very interested to see which – if any – of these young men will enter the seminary. No matter what, the Body of Christ is lucky to have them. They have blest us all with their openness and humility. Dan, Mike, Joe and Steve – I thank you!

Nemo's House

Charleston had a nice aquarium. We all had a good time looking at all of the sea life - especially the sea life native to South Carolina. One of the nice features of the aquarium was interactivity. Emma got to touch "Nemo's house." Mommy did, too. It felt sticky like overcooked spaghetti. There were also opportunities to touch non-aquatic life. Emma got to see a snake, an ant eater and a lizard up close.

Folly Beach Pictures

We got our pictures back last week and they turned our really cute. Emma loved the ocean. She would have stayed in there all day. Allison loved to be in the ocean when Mommy held her above the water. Both girls loved playing with their pails and shovels. Emma collected a lot of shells, too. It was a great time for the whole family.

How Evil Are You?

You Are 42% Evil

You are evil, but you haven't yet mastered the dark side.Fear not though - you are on your way to world domination.

How'>http://www.blogthings.com/howevilareyouquiz/">How Evil Are You?

My Warm Welcome Home

Shortly after returning from our family vacation in Charleston, South Carolina, I left home again on an overnight business trip to New Hampshire. I had never been to New England before and I was excited to see a new part of the country. I was also looking forward to an evening away from my children. Although we loved what we could enjoy of Charleston (and plan to go back without Emma and Allison someday), being around the kids 24/7 in cramped quarters left me feeling haggard. I very much needed a break.

We traveled to Concord on Tuesday. I started reading a biography on Margaret Mitchell after we got back from South Carolina. I have always loved Gone With the Wind. I must have read it three or four times during high school and two or three times since then. I have never, however, researched Scarlett’s author. Our carriage ride through downtown Charleston peaked my interest. I happily got a lot of reading done on the plane rides and in my hotel room that night. Even the snoring of the man in the next hotel room didn’t much affect my relaxation. I just turned up the air conditioning full blast.

The client we were visiting implemented with my company during my pregnancy with Allison. That is why I had never traveled there before. They were all happy to see me again and loved looking at pictures of the girls. I may have needed a break from Emma and Allison’s presence, but I sure loved talking about them and showing them off. One woman, LisAnne, just showered me with compliments from my hair to my toes. I might have gained 5 pounds during and since my vacation, but I felt like a million bucks after talking with her. The meetings went well Wednesday and the work day went by fast. It was a nice change of pace from sitting at my desk all day.

Danny and the kids did really well while I was gone. He was helped along by Emma. She agreed to stay at Granny and PawPaw’s house Tuesday night. I worried about Allison being cranky while I was gone. There was no need for that apparently. Other than pointing me out in a picture, she didn’t seem to pay much attention to my absence. Emma started missing me Wednesday night before I got home.

On my way home from the airport, I called home to let Danny know that I landed safely and was on my way. Emma answered the phone and it was such a shock. I’m used to giving her the phone and letting her talk to others. I was caught off guard by her answering our phone. For a second I thought I’d dialed the wrong number. She talked with me for almost five minutes and asked if I was still “in the sky.” When I got home, she cuddled with me on the couch like never before. Emma’s not a cuddly girl necessarily, but she was last night. After she went down for the night, Danny and I even got some much deserved quiet time on the couch. I loved every second of it.

Allison was sleeping when I got home, but I knew we’d be seeing each other again during the night. Sure enough, she woke up at 2am. She hugged me really tight when I picked her up out of the crib. I gave her kisses and laid her down next to me. Usually we both go back to sleep immediately. The next thing I knew, Ally climbed on top of my belly and laid her head down on my chest. I know what heaven feels like now. What better way could anyone say, “I’m glad you’re back.”?

By morning life slowly returned to normal. Emma and Ally got on each other’s nerves, Ally cried the entire time I got her dressed and we rushed around getting ready for our days at school and work. I better realize now that this is the way I like it to be.