For the Grandmas

Look who gained 12 ounces in 10 days....

but is still just a little jellybean.

Now at 7lbs 9oz

p.s. Happy Birthday Uncle Justin!

New Life

Tonight Isabel and I took Saul on his first walk around the neighborhood. We were lured out of the house by the incredibly warm evening and the smell of summer (thanks to practically every house in the neighborhood having a freshly-mowed lawn today). Just two weeks ago, despite the forsythia being in bloom, everything else still looked dead and bare and it was definitely more winter than spring. But tonight, it's nearly 90 degrees, the dogwoods are just beginning to bloom, the tulips are up, the grass is a finally a rich, green color, it's light until nearly 8pm., and there aren't even any mosquitoes out yet. It's even better than full-blown summer--it's spring.

The first winter we lived here I really (and please accept my hyperbole) hated life. It was one of the hardest times in my life. It turns out, I'm not so good with changes. But, hey, I had my reasons....and they were very real at the time.

First, I had a new house, but I felt overwhelmed by the amount of work that is home ownership--especially in a house that for several years hadn't received much in the way of TLC.

Next, let's face it, winter time is pretty darn gray. Since I grew up in a place where even during winter the sky is often bright and sunny and blue even after just snowing (ok, when there's no inversion), and then add that to having lived seven years in the climate paradise that is the Bay Area, I was having a hard time with the gray.

And, let's face it again, winter is cold. I'm not good with cold. Actually, I really, really, really, especially almost more than anything else, hate being cold. And unfortunately if it's less than, like, 61 degrees, I'm cold. Oh, and my new house that I was loving so much basically hovered around 61 degrees.

Also, I was pregnant. Like, first trimester pregnant. Do I have to say any more?

But mostly, I was lonely. I couldn't give up on the life I'd had before. The life where we had a wealth of friends who we loved like family. The life where I was unburdened by a house or kids in school, so my days were basically about going to local museums, or playgrounds, or meeting friends for lunch, or hiking in the surrounding regional parks, or going to San Francisco or the beach. We loved our ward. I had become dependent on the vibrant food culture, both in grocery shops and in restaurants. Our weekends were full of social activities, usually heavy with both food and friends. Sure, the nostalgia may be flowing thick right now, but there is no exaggeration to say that it was such a full area to live in, and I made every effort to take advantage of it. More than anything, it was just a great time of life.

So that first winter I felt incredibly isolated and lonely in my new suburban house. I felt like it was hard to make friends and that I went days without anyone calling me. I felt like the area had little to offer me by way of filling my days with interesting places I could take my kids. It was months before I had a calling at church, and so I felt that the ward couldn't care less if we were in it or not.

Sure, I see now (and I even recognized it then) that I was having some serious pride problems. But nonetheless, I suffered.....out loud....and often....and to anyone who asked...and even to those who didn't. (Poor Adam--he's probably the one who really suffered.)

Well, where is this all going.....

Basically, I think that I was saved by Spring. That year we went to Boston to see our old neighbors for Easter (and to get a sympathetic ear for all of my suffering, of course). Adam flew home after the holiday weekend, but I stayed a few extra days with the kids to sight see, so I was gone for nearly a week. When I drove home, I remember vividly still, coming into the neighborhood and seeing the newly bloomed dogwood trees--and my neighborhood is full of dogwood trees--and it took my breath away. I had no idea what a dogwood tree even was, and now I was surrounded by them. Their blossoms seemed almost otherworldly, they were so beautiful.

And in a way I felt like they were all for me; they were telling me it was time to come out of my self-pitying funk and be reborn into the world of the living.

This year was another long winter, mostly thanks to being pregnant. And it's been seven weeks now since the baby came, and even though I've had lots of help and care, I can't say that they've been easy, emotionally or physically. It's just how it is.


So I've been waiting for the bloom on the dogwoods to return; in a way so that I can return as well.

It's time again.

Cousins

Lucky us!

Look who came to visit.

It's our "Cousins!"

Ok, they're not our actual cousins, but for my children who have unfortunately never lived close enough to any of their real cousins, I can't blame them for thinking it. After all, they've known these kids since birth, we've spent holidays and vacations together, and for the many years we spent together as neighbors, they actually were, in a very real way, our family.

And, just like family, they came with no agenda other than letting kids play together, taking over the dinner-making, giving me plenty of really interesting and entertaining conversation.....and not minding that the bathrooms were less-than-perfect, the kids' rooms piled high, and that I was too tired to do any serious sightseeing.

It was a visit that went way too fast.

Pops giving us a little piano and soul

Max with Gigi and E doing a little Wii Ski

The girls went with Max--and Coach Adam--to soccer practice

Pops and Isabel found the cake decorating box...and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

Our two-peas-in-a-pod; for 3 days together they pretty much lived in dress-ups.
Perfect guests. Thanks guys.

Update

A week or so ago (or maybe it was longer...who knows) while I was driving to pick up Olivia from preschool, I was listening to a radio program with an interview of a man whose most recent book was about the controversy over foie gras and force feeding the ducks or geese for their livers.

And since I've been feeling somewhat like a foie gras farmer...or would it be a goose farmer...anyway, I'm happy to say that at the last weight check (the 3rd in 5 days), Saul is back to his birth weight.

Busted

Last night Isabel needed some candy. Don't ask me what I was thinking considering that I'm pretty sure that since Sunday she hasn't eaten much more than the candy contents of her Easter Basket. But I'm a desperate woman these days...so in the presence of all my children, I promptly reached up to the cupboard above the refrigerator and pulled out small sack full the remaining unused candy that we had bought for making Easter baskets. And then missing the warning glance that Adam gave me, I set the bag and its entire contents in front of Isabel so that she could take her pick.

Olivia looked at the candy selection Isabel was browsing, and then (Eureka!) exclaimed:

"You're the Easter Bunny!"

Oops.

And while I sheepishly looked over at Adam, Max then blurts out,

"And I know that you're the Tooth Fairy too."

1 Month

Today marks one month for the baby.

I commemorated the milestone with a trip to get a confirmed weight check and examination, since I was curious about his still looking pretty scrawny. Sure enough, he weighs a full half-pound less now than he did at birth (but hey, wasn't I just wishing that he could just stay this small forever!).

Even though all of my babies eventually become champion eaters, they have all started out as nursing idiots. But it seems that this baby and I really aren't making much of a team when it comes to the feeding/eating department. It feels like I just spent the first month of his life doing little more than sitting in bed attempting to feed, then pumping, then supplementing--and then somehow the two hours in between feedings had magically disappeared and it was time to start all over again. I'm not exactly complaining--ok, I'm complaining a little, but I thought that I was finally out of the woods since over the last week or so I'd finally gotten him to the point where he was eating without any other mechanical or silicone device assistance. But apparently he still needs a little more help in order to start plumping up.

Not that I intended this subject to be my big return to blogging-since-baby, as nursing stories are pretty boring, unless of course you're at Book Group and the dessert has been passed out everyone's already exhausted the childbirth stories (which is reminding me that I still haven't posted that particular story yet).

Anyway, it's actually been a really eventful and fabulous month and there's been a lot of other great stuff that I've been meaning to blog about: turns out that a new baby is way better than a Wii.

The last month has included: Max's baptism; Saul's blessing; Adam and I both had birthdays (mine accompanied by lots of gifts of the dark chocolate variety); Grandparents visiting who practiced piano with kids, painted walls, cleaned bathrooms, passed out Tootsie Rolls, and required that I had a daily nap-time; and we bought a new mini-van (with not only doors that open and close by themselves, but best of all, an ignition that starts without my having to hold two exposed wires together while I turn the key).

So, I'm hoping that I can catch up a little over the next little while......but considering what my house is looking like these days, thanks to the round-the-clock feeding schedule, I'm not counting on anything.