Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh...

      We just returned from a vacation to McCall, ID.  It was far too short considering how long... long... LOOOOONG the traveling days were, but it was nonetheless fantastic.  McCall is where my mother used to vacation in the summer as a child and she wanted to combine burying my grandmother's ashes with a second chance at life celebration for my dad.  A lot of painful chapters are... well, not really closing, but maybe becoming more tolerable for her and it was time to mark these great life changes somehow.  So she, my dad, the 6 of us and 7 of her cousins made our way back to McCall.
     It was like a fairy tale.  The weather was perfect.  It was chilly in the morning and hot in the afternoon and cool in the evening.  We could be outside all day, walking, hiking, jogging, swimming, boating, kayaking.  We did all of those.  The kids were in heaven.  There was so much to explore and the older two especially LOVED the boat.  They even got the chance to drive it.  The adults were in heaven.  The scenery was breathtakingly beautiful.  We spent each day looking at a sparking clear lake with tall pines surrounding it and mountains in the background.  It was a much-needed respite for our spirits.
     I'll admit that I have not yet been very good about taking some quiet time each morning.  Either I forget or I am so exhausted by the trip that I stumble out of bed sometime after I hear the older three attempting to broil Cheerios (ha ha, not really... I would never allow my children to be that unsupervised... though I really am NOT sure how they get the 2-year-old out of her crib... I once asked and they demonstrated pulling her out head first by her arms...).  But being on the trip with the kids and everyone relaxing and enjoying new experiences together did just reinforce in my mind that we may not be on the path as a family that is meant for us.  Cryptic, I know.  I just mean that I am not certain that the traditional school-activity-homework-sleep-repeat hamster wheel is what we want.
   But for now, it is entirely too late and time for bed and tomorrow is another day to ponder the shape this family will take.

Try, try again

     My last post (less than a year ago!) bemoaned how busy life had become.  It's interesting that tonight has held many of those same thoughts.  I am giving myself a free pass for not having done much about it yet.  In the last 12 months, we've had a new baby, four hospitalizations in our immediate family, another emergency room visit, a move to a new house and my dad had a heart transplant.  That would make anyone's head spin, right?
     Now that the baby is almost one (how did THAT happen??) and my dad is doing so very well and we are moved (not so much moved in, but moved), I am starting to feel like my feet are on the ground again.  Look at that big boy over there.  Soon he will turn seven.  It is speeding by at a dizzying rate.  I have spent seven years trying to find my parenting footing, then being uprooted over and over and over by new additions to the family.  It's time to stop.  Focus.  Enjoy this time.  I am not so naive as to believe that I will "love every minute."  Having 4 young kids is hard.  I some part of every day exhausted, frustrated and feeling stretched way too far.  On the other hand, I would not for any possible thing in the world change this amazing family, these amazing kids.  I look at them, so eager to be with Mommy, so anxious to share their lives, their play, their thoughts with me.  I know that soon enough that will all change and I am determined not to let as many of the carpe diem moments slip by.  I hope to post here more regularly and hope even more to be able to document some change.  I plan to make one small change a week for... some number of weeks and see where it leads us.  I am hoping for more purposeful time with my children.  I am hoping to slow down and enjoy.  I am hoping to give them memories of a Mommy who was present and relaxed rather than distracted and busy.
     For now my one small change will be to take some quiet time each morning to focus on what is important and how I want the day to go.  Ok.  Let's go.

A Little Bit Crazy

Our lives are so hectic right now and I fear it will only get worse as the kids get older.  We drop off at school 5 mornings a week.  A goes to school three mornings and L goes five full days, so three days a week I have two pick up times.  On the mornings A is not in school, she has either Kindermusik or gymnastics.  One other morning C has Kindermusik.  Next semester, E will also have Kindermusik.  One afternoon after school, L has Kindermusik.  Two evenings a week he has karate.  One evening he has soccer.  And soccer games are on Saturday morning.  In the midst of all of that, we fit in nursing sessions, meals, art projects, play time, learning activities, reading, laundry, cleaning, errands and family life in general.  It is exhausting.

I have been thinking a lot about simplifying.  A few days ago my youngest three and I were walking away from A's preschool after pick up.  A and C spotted a fountain and began to play in it.  As I watched them delight in their exploration I realized how little of this they get.  C and baby E especially are always getting hauled from one place to the next.  I realized that it is time for a priorities check.  Last weekend, my husband and I went out to dinner and had a talk about this.  We discussed what things are important to us as a family, what attributes and values we want our children to have, what priorities we have, etc.  It is an ongoing discussion.  We are developing a mission statement of sorts for our family to help guide our daily decisions and actions.  I hope that going about this parenting gig a bit more thoughtfully will remind us to carve out more time to play and explore at a slower pace.

Baby Makes Six

Here she is.  Our latest installation, now two months old.  Isn't she lovely?  She is.  She looks just like her brother did as a baby.  The difference is that she is SO easy.  She rarely cries, soothes very easily and smiles all the time.  I already cannot believe how much she has changed since birth.  I know I should be used to it by now, but I'm not.  She was a big surprise.  I mean BIG.  But I cannot imagine us without her.

The other kids are transitioning well.  Her big brother loves her and is very sweet and loving toward her.  He doesn't have a lot of patience for her crying, however (kind of like his mom).  Her oldest sister is a little mommy.  She calls her "my baby" and takes very good care of her.  She has been a great helper in fetching diapers, replacing pacifiers and other baby maintenance tasks.  Her younger big sister is still just a baby herself.  They are 16 months apart.  C loves the baby and is as gentle as any 18-month-old would be, however she has also been going through a clingy and fussy period.  I think her little world has tipped on it's side and she is feeling unsure.  This has been the most difficult part about bringing baby E home.  I want to be able to be there for both little ones when they need me and sometimes it simply isn't possible.

Still.  Sometimes, like last night as Cory carved our Halloween pumpkin with the kids, I sit back, holding E, watching the three older ones galavant around and I just smile.  I'm not sure I will ever fully understand how this once-infertile mom got here.  But I thank God every night as my weary head hits the pillow for the blessing of motherhood.  I hope that I am doing it well, doing right by them, and pray for the wisdom and stamina to make each day a good one for all of us.  Welcome to this crazy family, baby E.  You are so loved.

Well, hi there

It's been awhile. A bit has happened. We've all grown up a little (and for at least one of us, sadly, also out a little). We've learned new things, done new things, and oh yes, become a family of five. A year ago. That precious little one to the left with those incredible baby blues is our fifth member. She will turn one in two weeks. She is a tiny little thing, only 30th percentile. This is notable for me because my eldest was always around 90th and my middle was somewhere around 150th. She is active, oh so so active. She's walking and wishing she could run. She climbs. She opens. She closes. She explores. She exhausts. She has... in her objective mother's opinion... a very advanced sense of humor, so she must be a genius. She giggles all the time and finds humor everywhere. She also gives the world's best snuggles. She is not talking, except to mimic the dogs when they bark or say "uh ooooooooh." She is wonderful. I am so grateful she's in our family.

While baby blues keeps us all giggling, her big sister over here to the right is busy providing a running commentary on anything and everything from the moment she wakes up until the moment she goes to bed, stopping only to let us know that she is mad, mad, MAD and that she will not, not, NOT do whatever it is she's been asked to do. This particular photo demonstrates "mad" mode, not "talking" mode. It involves defiantly crossed arms, closed eyes, pursed lips and tossed-back head. She turns three in three days and she is taking the task to heart. She loves ballet and music. She is sweet and nurturing and loves to cuddle and have her back rubbed. She talks, seriously, all the time. ALL. THE. TIME. She is independent. She chooses her own fascinating clothing ensembles, wants to make her own meals and is very good at entertaining herself. And oh my lord she loves to talk.

And then there's big boy over here to the left. He's 5 1/2, and oh so much fun. He loves to build and draw and create. He builds towns with blocks and train tracks, planes and ships with legos, and robots with cardboard tubes and boxes and tape. He draws everything he sees. He plays soccer and is not the most physical player, but he's smart and understands the game and so he's good. He loves the Magic Treehouse books and the Star Wars movies and riding his bike. He is a perfectionist and gets frustrated easily. If he can't do it well immediately, he doesn't want to try. He is learning to read and has lost a tooth. He will start Kindergarten next year. It's so fun, this boy at this age. He is interesting to talk to and he's funny and he's curious.

So that's them, almost 2 years later. And, well. There will be a fourth. Coming in August. I'm still kind of in shock about that. After all of the heartache and time it took to get to parenthood, I can honestly say I never imagined being so blessed. But I am grateful, if also a little terrified. Be back soon?

Eat, Sleep, Create

Showing off the big muscles he grew from eating his veggies

Sleeping princess (and her frogs)

First attempt at finger painting. She H-A-T-E-D it.

Little girl's first masterpiece... in crayon

Building Courage... and Houses

I have a confession I've not been able to write here yet. I am one of those moms. The ones who go overboard too often. I blame medical school for this. Med school is somewhat rigorous. When I finished it and started being a stay-at-home mom, I filled the void left by patient care and studying with obsessing over every aspect of parenting. Some of that has subsided with time (and a second child... oh, just LET her climb up the pantry shelves and fall on her head and get it over with). Some has not. One area that hasn't changed is my love of incessant "enrichment-type activities." I blame my degree in education for that one.

And so... you might as well know the truth about me... my son has a weekly "theme." We check out books from the library, do projects, occasionally take field trips and even make snacks all week long around the theme. This week we talked about building houses. We checked out the books:

• Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel by Virginia Lee Burton This was a wonderful choice for my almost-4-year-old. It's a sweet story, complex enough to hold his attention but moved quickly enough not to lose it.
• The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton This was not strictly about construction, but since we talked mostly about building houses and it featured a house, and since it does deal with urbanization (and thereby indirectly with construction) and mostly because it isa classic and a Caldecott winner, we checked it out. It is a good story, but sad (with a happy ending). Luckily, the sadness was mostly above my son. He likes it because there's a train in it. So there you go.
• Building a House by Byron Barton Lots of bold, simple drawings like all of Barton's books. This book is probably a little simple for my son, however it was still a good description of the steps in the building process.
• Building with Dad by Carol Nevius This was a neat book that opened up instead of to the left. It features a child helping his dad build a new school... his new school. Theillustrations are life-like and drawn from different perspectives than most (from low down looking up, for example).
• Block City by Robert Louis Stevenson This is an illustrated version of Stevenson's poem from "A Child's Garden ofVerses." I loved it because it'sdifferent from most of what we read and again, it's aclassic. Though to be honest, it was my son's least favorite of the five.

Our activities for the week included:

• Making a blueprint. My son had a fantastic time painting the paper blue, but the concept of the floor plan wasprobably a little to complex for him. We followed the directions here: http://www.notimeforflashcards.com/2010/05/be-an-architect.html (As an aside, there will be a LOT of this website here because I love, LOVE, LOOOOVE it.)
• Making a house "H" (and "h"). Each week,we talk about a letter. At first we tied it to learning the names of uppercase letters, then lowercase letters, and then the sounds letters make. He knows all of those now, so now we are practicing writing them. The link is here:http://www.notimeforflashcards.com/category/lowercase-h We also did an uppercase H with no chimney, but a roof on top.
• Building a skyscraper. We also work on a number each week. Right now I think learning to write the alphabet is enough for him and numbers have never been as easy for him as letters are. So we still focus on recognizing the numbers (which he does, but only through "10") and counting. We based the skyscraper on this one: http://www.notimeforflashcards.com/2009/02/shapes-in-the-city.html, however instead of focusing on window shapes, we talked about "10" and put 10 windows on each side of the building. This was a great project because he's used it lots to play cars and trains with.
• Visiting a construction site. Luckily this was easy since there is a lot of construction in our neighborhood. After making our own blueprint and reading books about the steps in building a home, we talked about different homes in different stages of construction.
• Building houses out of his snacks. I gave him graham crackers and cantaloupe and apples cut in triangles and squares so he could use the crackers as houses, the triangles as roofs and the squares as windows.

We had a fantastic week-before-the-4th. We took a trip to Great Wolf Lodge, which I HIGHLY recommend as a family vacation. We made the trip with 3 other families and we all had a fantastic time. The place is a hotel/resort/water park. It does have some outdoor pools and slides, but most of it is indoors so it's open year-round. And while the water attractions (pools, slides, lazy river, gigantic fort with a 1,000 gallon bucket that dumps water every so often) are incredible, there is so much more. There's an arcade, a teen lounge with video games, story time in pajamas in front of the huge great room fireplace at night, and a fun game with magic wands that open chests and light up paintings all over the hotel. It was fun and will be even MORE fun when Miss I-Am-Not-Afraid-Of-Anything-And-Do-Not-Hold-My-Hand-In-the-Pool-Because-I-Can-Swim-ALL-BY-MYSELF (no she can't) is a little older.

After Great Wolf Lodge, we headed to Austin for a few days at a lake house with my in-laws. If they'd allowed me to, I would still be standing at the back window staring at the scenery. The Hill Country is so beautiful. The weather was relatively cool, we rented jet skis one day, swam in the lake lots and spent a lot of time relaxing. It was a welcome change from the routine.

It's always hard to come back to reality after a great vacation, but we've managed to have fun amidst sitting around sulking about not living at a water park or in a lake house with a phenomenal view. Yesterday, I set up an obstacle course for the kids in the living room. Such a simple thing, but I don't do things like that for them nearly enough. Much giggling ensued as they crawled through a tunnel, knocked down big cardboard blocks with a ball, jumped over (on in my daughter's case, tried not to fall over) "hurdles," and mostly jumped into a huge pile of pillows. Truth be told, they would have had just as much fun just jumping into the pillows over and over.

Today we took a trip to Barnes and Noble. We have tried a new chores/rewards method with my son which is working well. He has a small glass bowl and a plastic bag full of arts and crafts pom poms. He has a list of responsibilities, each earning different numbers of pom poms. When he does something on the list, he checks to see how many pom poms he gets and puts the correct number into the bowl. When the bowl fills up, he gets to choose a reward. Today he chose a trip to B&N to play with their train table (which is SO much better than his train table) and pick out a new train (Annie and Clarabel). Ok, ok. It's a reach. It's not as cool and using a magic wand to open treasure chests or riding a jet ski down the Colorado River. But he was having fun, she was having fun and so I had fun.

The Good, The Bad and The Silly

Pretty much describes every day in the life of a family with small kids.

Good things happen, generally just when you have finally decided that they never will. Just when you look at your chubby-thighed cherub of a 14-month-old and envision her graduating from high school without ever uttering a single word (and maybe, just maybe, as they hand her a diploma, she'll get so caught up in the emotion that she'll float momentarily out of sulky teen angst, look directly into my eyes and say, "Mama?" And there will be tears and rejoicing! )... Um... What was I saying? Right. Good things. In any case, just when I had given up on ever hearing my youngest speak, she did. We were in the car driving from somewhere in TX to somewhere else in TX and she was fussing, "mamamamamamamamaaaaaaaaaaa...." All of a sudden, you could almost her the lightbulb click on. She stopped, said, MAMA?!" and twisted around in her carseat to look right at me. She has since said, "Mama!" seven billion times, to which I always reply, "Yes, baby? Good Job! Yes, MAMA!" and smile. And she smiles back, satisfied and proud. So good.

And as much as you expect your child to never meet milestones you want them to meet, you also get totally taken by surprise when some sweet stage you hope never ends actually ends. This past week my son fell and bumped his head. He fussed, I held him close and kissed his bump. He pulled away, rubbing the offending spot and said, "Mommy, kissing doesn't help anymore." Ouch (ironically, a kiss would have helped MY owie).

Luckily, even though parenting (and scorpions) sometimes hurt, you can pretty much count on at least one good laugh a day. Last Saturday I was walking through the kitchen and stepped right on a scorpion. I have been wondering when this would happen since we've seen our fair share of the little hateful jerks in the past 2 years. I am only glad it was me and not one of the kids (though I would have been ok with it being my husband and not me). In any case, I sort of exclaimed loudly and everyone came running to see what happened. I cautioned my son not to get too close and he leaned over my mortally wounded opponent and exclaimed, "Oh. my. LORD. He is so cute! Can we keep him as a pet? Please, please, pretty please?" I have no idea where he comes up with this stuff. I also have no idea what made him think of Santa on a 95 degree day in July, but I did catch him peering up the chimney tonight calling, "Santa? Saaaaanta!" I asked if he thought Santa was up there and he said, "I dunno. Probably."

Good, bad and silly. Just another week.

Spring Evening

Here are some shots of the kids during a recent evening outdoors.

One Thing Leads to Another

Our neighborhood finally voted to approve an itty bitty miniscule increase in homeowners association fees in order to have curbside recycling. Hooray! Though we did our best to recycle before, I'll admit that sometimes it was just easier to throw the bottle in the garbage than it was to separate it all out and lug it to the recycling center (where workers always found some fault with what we brought in and took GREAT offense to it). But now it's so easy and it feels really good to be cutting our garbage pile so drastically. We wondered how much more we could cut down by composting as well. So last weekend, we also bought a compost bin and cut the trash heap down even more. My goal is one garbage bag per week. We're not there yet, but I am determined.

Feeling green has a way of making you think about other ways to take care of the earth. Buying local leapt to mind. Last weekend was Mother's Day and I really wanted to go have breakfast at the best restaurant in town on Saturday morning. So we packed up the kids and headed out. 'Twas SO good. On the way there we noticed the Saturday farmer's market I've been wanting to visit since we moved here, but never have. After breakfast we headed over to the market. I'd just been to the grocery store, so I didn't buy any produce, but I couldn't resist the fresh eggs. We decided to make the trip to breakfast and the market on Saturday a weekly tradition. I cannot wait to add fresh local veggies and eggs to our menu.

And speaking of Mother's Day, it was wonderful. I got to sleep in, then my son brought me a card he'd written all by himself (mostly) and gave me a huge hug. His sister followed close behind, breaking into a huge grin when she saw mama and toddling over for a hug. My husband got me an iPhone for Mother's Day. It was completely unexpected and completely exciting. A wonderful day to celebrate the miracle of motherhood.

Physically exhausting, Physically rewarding

Parenting little children is a physical endeavor. I cannot really speak to parenting older children since my oldest is only 3, however I assume it will be more mental than physical. The demands on a young parent involve using your body to care for theirs. There are tushies to be wiped, dressing and undressing, bathing, kissing boo-boos, meals to be prepared and fed, clutter to be cleaned, beds to be changed, and the list goes on. A mother is responsible for all of her own physical needs and all of her childrens', plus the vast majority of their household duties since they are simply too small to pitch in. While there are certainly mental challenges (how do I handle THIS new behavior?), the physical challenges predominate. And so do the physical rewards.

Last night, Mother's Day, I went in to kiss my son goodnight after his daddy tucked him in. I laid next to him and he wrapped his small arms around me. I hugged him. I know every inch of his body and his sister's. They are as familiar to me as my own. I marveled at how different it feels to hold him now than it did two years ago. How different he is than my daughter. He is so lean and long now; the baby fat has all but disappeared. He seems all arms and legs. There is no hugging a squishy little form now. It's more like hugging a tree. He told me he liked the sound of my breathing; he asked to feel my heartbeat and then asked me to feel his. He asked for butterfly kisses and giggled when I "kissed" his forehead. The he asked to lie quietly next to me. I cannot think of a better way to end Mother's Day (or any other day). Even now I can see that these physical moments with him are becoming more and more seldom. Sooner than I would like, I will have to settle for a stolen hug here are there.

My daughter is in the throes of stranger anxiety. When someone she doesn't know well speaks to her or comes too near, she buries her head in my shoulder and clings to me for dear life. I'll admit it. I love this stage. It's a normal part of her development to realize who her family is and that they are safe and will care for her needs. Each and every time this happens, I remember how much time I spent being the scary stranger, wondering if I'd ever be the safe mommy. Not to mention that I get these wonderful cuddles, her body melting perfectly into my neck and shoulder.

There are most certainly days that I am beyond wiped out by the time everyone is tucked safely into bed (everyday, in fact). It is physically exhausting to change, prepare, clean up and carry all day long. But the reward for all of that work, the snuggles of your babies, ah... I will cherish these moments forever. And while there are moments in every day when I think, "I cannot WAIT until they are old enough to do this themselves," I also know that all too soon they WILL be able to do it themselves. My son said it best the other night. "But, I don't want to get big. I just want to be who I am."

Winds of Change

Well, apparently it's been a year. Wow. How time flies. I started this blog mostly to have a place to unload my thoughts about infertility. Even though I had my beautiful boy at the time, I still felt infertile. There were complications following his birth that made it unlikely I would conceive again. And that was on top of the issues we already had that made 5 cycles of IVF and 2 miscarriages necessary to conceive him. Though I was blissful to have even succeeded once, I was still very hurt by the thought of never having another child. For one, I was an only child and hated it. And secondly, I wanted to be able to decide when we were done, not have it decided for me. So even having succeeded once, I was angry about our infertility.

Now I have my two. My son and my daughter. My improbable perfect family. I am content. I cannot say that we are done trying (and I also cannot say that we'll ever try again), however I do know that I can live my life happily and peacefully regardless of whether more children are in our future. Infertility will always be part of the mother I am and the person I am. I will never forget how painful our journey was. But I also would not change it now that I know the outcome. I am no longer angry. Thus, I've not had much to say for the past year. Life has been chugging along at a chaotic, happy pace.

So instead of abandoning the blog, I've decided to take it in a bit of a different direction. From angry infertile to busy mom. I know that there are a billion and one mom blogs out there, but it's not as if more than two people will ever read mine and mostly I am writing as a way to keep my thoughts and memories about this time in our life as a family. I am trying to figure out if it is possible to password protect the blog. I will be posting pictures of the kids and also using their names, so I feel more comfortable having a password.

So, let's get this party started. A few pics from our recent trip to Toronto:

To kick things off:

Silly boy at the Toronto Bluejays game.

The kids riding a hippo at the zoo.

Lil' Miss excited about the zoo.

But, can't you see that I'm NOT normal?!?

So the boy will be going to preschool in the fall. Today we got a big packet of information in the mail: medical forms, contact information, a class list, fall calendar... The fall calendar stood out. It listed the events that will occur in his classroom throughout the semester and which one parents would be invited to/asked to help at. Before that moment, I hadn't really pictured myself helping out in my son's classroom: assisting with holiday parties, chaperoning field trips, sewing costumes for pageants. Those things are such mom things to do. And I am being asked to do them, just like all of the other parents. But there are still so many days that I just don't feel like all of the other parents. I think my packet of information should have arrived amidst a bit more fanfare. Balloons, confetti, perhaps a marching band, Ed McMahon shouting: "Congratulations!!! You did it!!! You're a mom!!! And as a reward, you get to help out in YOUR VERY OWN CHILD'S classroom this year!!! Just like all of the other normal parents!!!" But instead, it arrived in a boring, white envelope, just like everyone else's. The person who put it all together and addressed it and sent it saw nothing special about my packet. Our mail carrier was not awed by it. But I'm still not like everyone else. Infertility sets you apart, makes you feel alienated from those around you who are conceiving their children with such ease. And when you finally do succeed in having children, everyone else treats you like a normal pregnant person, a normal parent. But you aren't. I'm not. And maybe I never will be. I don't love my kids any more. I am no more proud of their accomplishments. I am no more heartbroken by their pain and I am no less frustrated when they are difficult. But our journey to them was different, life altering in fact, and I suspect that it has changed the way I will view parenthood forever.

Quatro

...or more accurately, Quatra, is here. She arrived a month early, but perfectly healthy. And beautiful. And wonderful. I am still pinching myself. As happy as I was to be a mom to my son, I am doubly happy to be a mom to my son and daughter. Being a minivan-driving stay-at-home mom to the ever so mundane family of four- one boy, one girl (how very June Cleaver!) might sounds like unadulterated hell to some. I am not one of them. I am downright giddy, possibly pathologically so. No, it is not always perfect. In fact, it is never perfect and is sometimes even really rough. But one of the gifts of infertility is that when you have experienced the lowest low, the highs are that much higher and even the ordinary middle ground seems pretty darn good. As for my earlier proclamation that my uterus is closed for business... perhaps a Cinco wouldn't be the worst thing ever? A decision for another day (and for God, since I have long since learned that it's not our decision anyway). Today, I am happy. Truly happy.

Hello Again...

Yep, it's been a long time. Again. It's not that there has been nothing to say. It's just that sometimes it seems easier to write when you are in pain, frustrated, worried, or hurting. It's cathartic to put those emotions down. It's easier to throw sarcasm and anger at the world than it is to say, "Everything's... just fine." Don't misunderstand. I am blissfully happy with "just fine." It's just that I don't feel as compelled to write about it because I'd rather just be living it.

It's been ten months since we moved to our new town. While the house will probably not be the way I want it for years, it's fine for now. And I love living in it, and I love the neighborhood we're in. My husband's job is going well. His hours are very good and his partners treat him well. Sure, he has normal work frustrations, but nothing compared to what he had before we moved. The boy and I have settled into a comfortable routine. We spend our mornings at gymnastics or music class or the library story time or play group. And in the afternoons we play at home, often times with Daddy who is generally home by then. We've both made some good friends. We are happy.

My son is undeniably two. He tests the boundaries at every turn and loudly and angrily protests not getting his way. There are days I am doing well not to be halfway through my third bottle of wine by the time my husband gets home. But, all of that is normal (both for him and me) and his rapidly exploding vocabulary and grasp of the world is so amazing that the less desirable parts of living with a toddler just fade away.

And the pregnancy. After our rough beginning, it's so routine now that I sometimes forget to be continually amazed that I really am pregnant again. As of today I am 28 weeks along, in my last trimester. The baby appears to healthy, and is very active. We've had no further complications since 10 weeks. I am in the habit of not counting unhatched chickens, however I can't seem to shake the feeling that I might have two children soon.

So. That's all there is. See how boring that was? Blissfully boring, if you ask me.

Thankful...

This time of the year is sentimental for everyone. But it's really not uncommon to see me with tears in my eyes during the holiday season. It holds so much emotion.

I spent too many years sad at Christmas. I was always thankful for my family, my husband, the roof over my head, the food on our table and health. And I always knew that all of that is SO much more than so many people have. But at Christmas, there are reminders everywhere of children. They line up for Santa at the mall. They appear in sentimental commercials where they innocently sneak down the stairs to wait for Santa. They are adorable in the church Christmas Eve pageant. And our home was deafeningly quiet on Christmas morning. It was hard to be happy at a time when everywhere I turned I was reminded of the one thing that was missing. All I could do was wonder if it would ever be my turn to hold a tiny hand in the line for Santa; to make angel wings for the Christmas Eve pageant; to hear my child's laughter on Christmas morning.

And then three years ago on December 7, in a lab in North Carolina, 13 embryos came to be. Five days on December 12, three of them were placed back in my uterus. And five days before Christmas, my husband (who fielded all phone calls from the doctor to save me from hearing bad news from a stranger) told me that I was pregnant. Not for the first time. But for the first time the numbers looked very promising. The day before Christmas Eve he told me that the numbers were rising perfectly. By all indications, everything looked promising. And so for the first time ever on Christmas 2005, not even 5 weeks pregnant, I allowed myself to dream. One year later, on Christmas morning 2006, I had in my arms the most precious gift God can give. My infant son, perfect and healthy. And the memory of the prior Christmases, so filled with grief and longing, so filled with terrified hope, were as vivid as ever. The memory of pain will be with me forever, but the pain itself is gone. Now my Christmases include holding a tiny hand in the line for Santa, dressing my beautiful (yes, I am biased, but he seriously is) son in his Christmas best for Christmas Eve church and hearing his little feet pitter patter around to look at his presents on Christmas morning. And it seems as if next year we will add another little one to the mix.

So this season holds for me the memory of past hurt, the memory of desperate hope, and now a level of gratitude that can never be expressed with my feeble writing. Thankful... yes. So very, very thankful.

A New Day

It is gorgeous here. The weather is unseasonably warm (oh, who am I kidding... not really unseasonable for Texas), but not hot. The sky is that gorgeous deep blue of a clear autumn day and white clouds are floating in the sky. May sound idyllic and contrived, but it isn't. That's what sort of day it is. And it fits my mood to a T. I feel happy, peaceful, sunny and idyllic. I feel hopeful and excited. I feel patriotic and proud. I knew I wanted him to win. I voted for him. But I didn't realize how badly I wanted it until I woke up this morning feeling every happy emotion I can conjure. I am inspired. WE are inspired. I am ready. WE are ready. My son will never know a day when there was no way a minority could hold the highest office in the land. He will never think it odd that the children in the White House aren't white. It's not often that a parent is glad that things are the way they are now rather than wishing that they were like they used to be. But this is one of those times. I am so proud of this country. I am so proud to be an American (cue Lee Greenwood). I feel like standing on my roof today and cheering (which, unfortunately in my neck of the woods would probably result in me a-gettin' lynched by an angry mob). I feel light and free. Yes, we can. And yes, we did. And I for one think it's going to be a great four years.

"Penis is crying"

This is what my son said to me tonight. I'm not sure of he was referring to the fact that he'd just peed in the shower or if his penis was just feeling a little sad (it happens), but for whatever reason penis was crying.

One of the joys of living with a toddler is getting a glimpse into their view of the world. Today he told me that he wanted to go up into the clouds. When I asked him how we'd get there he said, "Take big steps." The he decided that there was a doggie in the clouds that needed feeding, so he started throwing imaginary food up into the sky. After his shower tonight he informed me that his shoes were tired. I love hearing his take on things. He is surprising. And creative. And funny. And lately, cranky. But we can overlook that for all the other things. Two is tough. And so very fun.

So, this baby. It's another little IVF miracle. It was an abysmal cycle and I don't think anyone expected it to work, least of all me. But, here I am. Fourteen weeks pregnant. I believe in God and I thank Him nightly because this one sure shouldn't have happened. It didn't go well at first. There was a hemorrhage between the baby's sack and my uterus, but hopefully that is resolving. Hopefully the next 26 weeks will pass with a live and healthy baby being born uneventfully at the end. And if that happens, I plan to close my uterus for business forever.

Lucas, who has absolutely no concept of what it all means (and how can he, really... when we ourselves had no idea when we brought him home?), has taken it all in stride. He points at my tummy when asked where the baby is. He answers "Quatro" when asked what we will name the baby. We're not sure why he chose the name Quatro, but it seems fitting for the fourth member of our family. He's probably a genius.

So. Crying penises. Hungry dogs in the sky. Baby in belly. Just another boring day.

Uno, Dos, Tres...

...Quatro (my sweet son's chosen name for the fourth member of our family- pretty dang smart, if you ask me)

Due to join us on quatro de Mayo.