Sunday, March 28, 2010

How No. 6 Became No.5

Our story always begins the same.
Cautious surprise.
Curious naivety.
Inexplicable hopefulness.

To put it visually, our story usually begins like this:


How we get to the beginning of our story is a series of completely different, complicated, expensive and detailed stories altogether.

In stunned surprise and blatant fear, we always drop to our knees to thank Heavenly Father for this blessing and plead with Him to let this one stick, for a refreshing change. Followed by a very stringent routine of pills and hormones and doctors, all trying to prevent the inevitable.

Inevitable, which here means that of our six pregnancies, the last four ended similarly.

Until yesterday when the word "inevitable" meant that of our six pregnancies, the last five have, consecutively, ended in like manner.

In other words, we miscarried. Again.

Miscarriage is such a simple word that encompasses all types of fetal death, prior to 20 weeks of pregnancy, and I've experienced about all of them at this point. Literally.

Miscarriage is an emotionally degrading torture, physically painful and socially isolating. However, as cold and heartless as this might sound to first-timers or pregnancy loss virgins, with each passing miscarriage (excuse the pun), it really does get easier to mentally and emotionally process the loss. The real challenge now, for us, would be how to deal with a successful, full-term pregnancy. That one might take some counseling!

So to prepare you on how to approach a friend or family member who has just miscarried, here are a few things you should NEVER say; not in person; not in a card; just don't say it at all:
  1. It was meant to be.
  2. You can have another one.
  3. At least you already have a child.
  4. You're young still.
  5. It will happen.
  6. At least you know you can get pregnant.
Here is something you should say, if you're comfortable saying anything at all:

"I'm sorry and I love you."

Or, if you've had already had a miscarriage, let them know that you know how they're hurting and that you're available if they want to talk. Connect with them.

If you don't know what to tell somebody who has miscarried, then don't say anything at all. Saying something awkward or uncomfortable will probably make your friend or family member uncomfortable as well.

********************************************************************************

Finally, to our family and friends: please don't avoid us! We're not contagious!

Most likely we don't want to discuss our miscarriage any more than you do, so we're on the same page. If you're pregnant or just had a baby, don't assume that our feelings will be hurt or that we'll want to avoid you to save face. We actually have a very thick skin and have learned that by withholding joy or happiness from other couples, who are blessed with healthy pregnancies and children, the only one's we're hurting is ourselves.

Frankly, life is too short to be forever lamenting in our own sorrows.

On a happier note, we're already taking steps to grow our family!
Details coming soon....

Monday, March 22, 2010

Really??

A government of the people, by the people, and for the people??


Ever feel like you've been crapped on by your own government?

What is the purpose of a representative government when the elected officials make a mockery of their constituents by blatantly turning a deaf ear to the wishes of the people?

Power to beget more power?

Way to go Congress on *sneaking* another one by the American public.
Keep up this deception and lawlessness and we'll be eating out of your filthy hands in no time.

Thankfully November is coming up. Finally some "change" we can embrace.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Bragging Rights

Not only is Clarke amazingly strong and handsome, but he's also really, really, really talented. And I've got the bragging rights to him. (so ha! ha!)

It all started with this picture from the Pottery Barn catalog:

You're drooling aren't you??? I don't blame you. I drooled too.
We've had the same 4-drawer dresser since we got married; each of us having only two over-stuffed drawers to ourselves. I believe it was the dresser Clarke used while growing up.
So I looked up at my talented husband one day and sweetly said "I want" while dangling the picture from the catalog in front of his face. Most husbands would take one look at the price, blanch, and say, "No!"
My husband didn't even look at the price. Instead, he looked at the picture and said, "Okay."
Then he disappeared into his garage and got to work.

Bragging rights...what did I tell ya???

Clarke is a building genius!
(and he has a studly little helper)

TA DA:

We made a few changes to the Pottery Barn design by adding a third foot for stability, rounded handles to offset the linear lines, and using beadboard to add texture and enhance the design.

Clarke, baby, you ROCKED this dresser!!! Brrrawr!
Well, you and your little helper.
I heart my boys:

Monday, March 15, 2010

Ding, ding-a-ling, ding....

...ding, ding, ding, ding!

Can you guess what that is???

It's a piano, silly!
More specifically, its the piano we inherited from my parents this last weekend.
EEEEEeeeeEEEEeeee!

And, drumroll please....

...I'm going to take piano lessons!!!

Oh, no. I'm so sorry! I probably just startled you. Right?

I mean, really. Me? A musical instrument???
(stop laughing!)

The thought of cracking open a hymn book at church sends shivers down my spine as I've been told, in no unspecific terms, that I should not sing out loud. Ever. I probably shouldn't even sing in my mind, in the shower, or in the car because I can totally deceive myself into believing that I can carry a tune.
Tone deaf doesn't even begin to describe what happens when I try to sing. Apparently.

However, I imagine myself to be something of a piano virtuoso akin to Chopin or Gershwin because chomping away on a keyboard doesn't not involve singing. Makes perfect sense, right?? Note that I used the word "imagine" because when I sat down at the piano this weekend I couldn't even remember how to play chopsticks.
Unh! Did I just admit that out loud????

So my goal is to be playing as well as Beethoven or Rachmaninoff by Christmas. In my imagination, that is. In reality, I'll be lucky to be able to hash out a lame version of "Jingle Bells."

But a girl can dream, right??

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Inevitable


It started on Thursday. Brock woke up with a spontaneous, deep cough, out of nowhere I might add, which continued throughout the day and well into the night when his cough became a bark and I knew we were dealing with croup.........again. Poor kid coughed and cried all night long.

The bark was gone on Friday, but the cough had gotten worse and was now accompanied by a fever of 102*. Tylenol. Motrin. Tylenol. Motrin. Yeah, you seasoned moms know the drill. Friday night was another sleepless, tearful night for my uncomfortable, sick little boy.

By Saturday, Brock seemed to be doing better. The cough did not seem as bad and he had more energy, enough to play wildly with cousins.

However, another coughing, sleepless night for Brock and a Sunday morning of hacking coughs signaled that he and daddy would be staying home from church. By the time I got home from church, Brock was lethargic and in tears. Upon seeing me, he burst into uncontrollable sobbing (I have that effect on him. I know...weird.) and clung to my leg, crying, as I attempted to make dinner. His ears hurt. So it was off to the doctor where ear infection was confirmed and then off to find the ONLY pharmacy open on a Sunday night in Boise. We got home several hours later. Exhausted.

Come Monday morning he felt great! But I was a total zombie. Several consecutive nights of sleeplessness had finally caught up with me and I was dragging. Being a mom means that you forget yourself. Literally. You forget to sleep. You forget to shower. You forget to do your makeup and then someone knocks on your door and it is only then that you remember how truly hideous you look. Unh!

Well, my sacrifice did not go unacknowledged by Brock. Sweetheart, that he is. Brock, in turn, practiced a little selflessness of his own.

He shared his cold with mom.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Advice Columns



Friday, March 5, 2010

Text Messaging...

...slaughtering the English language since creation.



I remember once asking someone what LOL meant and it was humiliating when the person looked at me as though I had lobsters crawling out of my ears.

LOL=Laugh Out Loud

Clearly I was behind the times and my ignorance was not simply "retro" but "grandparently."

The advent of texting has taken the use of acronyms to a strange and disturbing level. Not only are they sometimes impossible to understand and blatantly silly, but when texting acronyms find their way into day-to-day conversation, its time to worry that we're raising generations of future adults who have no idea how to spell or use punctuation!!

Nevertheless, we must evolve with technology! Worrisome, though, that may be.
Which is why I am gleefully announcing that after years of paying per text, Clarke and I have finally signed on to a texting plan!!!
I know, I know, I know. Try to contain your excitement...


Consequently, instead of inwardly sighing every time our phones played that $.20 ring, signaling that someone loved us enough to send us a text, we can now happily send and receive texts, sans the guilt!
Go us! Finally, we can roll with the 21st century!!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Alligator Tears


"Mommy, let's snugggggle and watch a movie."

That's how it started. A simple plea from Brock to spend a couple hours watching yet another dog movie. This time he chose Air Bud, a movie about a lonely boy and his golden retriever. Rather apropos considering Brock's favorite furry friends are golden retrievers.

About 3/4 through the movie, I looked over at Brock.
His chubby cheeks were red and his eyes were full of gigantic alligator tears.

Alarmed, I asked what was wrong and that simple question was the equivalent of unlocking the flood gates. His red face scrunched up and he began to cry uncontrollably.

I hugged him close as his emotions unleashed and through choking sobs he asked, "Why doesn't that boy want the dog?"

I had never before seen Brock so emotionally invested in anything he saw on TV and his tears were 100% genuine!

He openly cried for several more minutes, asking over and over again why the boy didn't want the dog, until I was finally able to convince him that what we were watching was, indeed, just a movie.

Guess we'll save 'Old Yeller' for another day.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Hey-Hey-Hey. Goodbye!

Na.
Na.
Na-na-na-na.
Hey.
Hey.
Hey.
Goodbye!!!

Today we paid off FIVE credit cards!!!

The truth of the matter is that Clarke and I are big spenders (because, really, where is the fun in saving all your money??). So, when we set out to conquer our debt this year, I had no idea, that through hard work and discipline, paying off our debt would be fairly easy; and equally, as fulfilling. Granted, it did take a rather substantial chunk of our tax refund that you can bet we would have had euphoric fun spending had our minds not been determined to obliterate our debt and break those rusty chains of self-imposed financial bondage. As Thomas Fuller said, "Debt is the worst poverty."

Monday, March 1, 2010

Validation

What if we spent our time making others feel good about themselves???
This is a short film that is fantastic and will leave you feeling wonderful the rest of the day.
Enjoy!