the fiiiiiinal countdown

Sometimes when I'm bored, I scroll through photos that JL and I have taken of the boys on our phones. There are some real gems in there, like this one:

There is also a photo of Henry with a snot beard. Because we believe in capturing authentic memories for our children.

This weekend I traded out our fridge calendar for December's schedule of events. Without Story Time or play dates, nearly every day is empty. But while scribbling in doodles for the Holidays and birthdays, I realized that at the end of this calendar I would be headed to the hospital to have a baby. (Anytime I think about going somewhere for a specific purpose, I always think of my oldest brother, who very sweetly sang to me on my wedding day: "Going to the temple and you're...gonna get maaaarrrriiiieeeed." I mean, anywhere. Target to get diapers. Sam's to get milk. Doctor's office for an appointment. Bonded for life.) I also realized that in the next five weeks, JL is on call for three of them.

Even with an empty calendar I feel a little stressed. Although, I just looked at JL's calendar and I feel so much better about life. He's kind of my hero.

This is random, but we've cut the boys down to one educational show a day, and right now I'm watching Walter have a panic attack watching Little Einsteins. He gets so invested in what he watches, we are never going to be able to let him watch Lord of the Rings or Star Wars. Sheesh.

Look at that body...I work out...

Look at that sexy beach ball stomach. Yowza! 

With 8 weeks left on our countdown I am very happy to announce that we have an induction date on the books! Due to our placenta issues, there is a large chance that we'll go into early labor anyway, but my body has never shown an inclination to progress from labor into active labor on its own so my doctor put the induction on the books for January 8!

This has me very excited! The baby has already started to slowly drop down, making my bladder uncomfortable and making it really hard to get in and out of bed. I've also started having painful and regular contractions. With Henry, I had regular contractions for 5 weeks before my doctor induced, and by the time we hit the hospital I was exhausted and beyond ready to have a baby in my arms. I am starting to have a similar emotional response to all of this nonsense.

Plus, all of the weight I have gained this time around has been in my upper arms, belly, and breasts, which leaves a lady feeling quite top heavy. Like Dolly Parton.

Bring on the baby!

Reestablishing normality

Since Walter's concussion we've been desperately trying to embrace our usual schedule. Unfortunately we had a hectic Saturday that involved over a foot of snow (what?!), branches down, and my sister totaling her car. By Saturday night Walter's lack of sleeping had gotten the better of him and Henry was showing signs of a cold from spending the morning outside. Somebody, *ahem*, fell asleep on the couch.

We put everyone to bed early, including ourselves. It was beautiful.

Since then, I have scratched my eye, taken several blows to my poor scratched eye, and helped Walter successfully fight off an ear infection.

I've decided that Heavenly Father is just getting us through all of the winter illnesses in the beginning so that when the baby comes right after the New Year I won't have to worry about sick kids AND a newborn.

Thankfully thankful

With the Thanksgiving season upon us, a lot of my friends have taken to Facebook posting daily things they are thankful for.

I could list a thousand things that I'm thankful for, but really, they all boil down to these two cuties (and Baby Boy #3) and this guy:

I am so incredibly grateful that JL works as hard as he does so that we can afford to live a comfortable life that includes me being able to stay at home with our boys. He takes on call shifts so we have extra cash for fun things, works at least 40 hours a week, helps out with the boys, goes to school full time, and is involved in our local church without complaining. Lately he has also helped me get my shoes on, get in and out of bed, stretch so my sciatic nerve doesn't bother me and dealt with all of my last trimester hormones. He's pretty amazing.

a Halloween curse

I've thoroughly enjoyed reading all of my friends' blog posts about Halloween and living vicariously through them. Once again, we had a Halloween bust at our house. I'm really starting to feel like Walter is carrying a Halloween curse because every year of his little life something awful has happened to him either on or right before Halloween.

When he was 11 months old he was diagnosed with mono...no Halloween.
When he was 23 months old he got the flu...no Halloween.

And this year...oh man. Monday night Walter took a swan dive from the cart in Target and landed hard on his head and wrist. We thought he had broken his arm and finger at first, but then he started moving it around so we waited until morning to take him to his doctor. Diagnosis: mild concussion and some bruised soft tissue in his arm. I thought, 'Okay! We can do Halloween with that.' All we had to do was keep him from hitting his head again for a week.

Wednesday morning he was chasing Henry around our house and did what can only be described as a slide tackle on our kitchen floor. He immediately started to complain of a headache and watery eyes. I called the doctor's office to see what to do and they told me to keep monitoring him and give them a call if he started to seem confused or began vomiting.  Five minutes later he was throwing up a lovely combination of oatmeal and red Powerade allllll over the house. We took him to the doctors. They requested a CT scan, which the hospital couldn't squeeze in until the next morning.  Until then we were supposed to keep Walter from falling, hitting his head, running, or behaving like a little boy in any way.  Halloween canceled.

The next morning I sent JL off with all of our Halloween candy that hadn't been handed out at Trunk or Treat and got Walter and Henry ready for the day. Luckily, my very sweet mother-in-law was able to come up and take Henry for the morning while Walter and I went and had our "adventure".

We made it to Utah Valley, walked into the outpatient Lab and were immediately redirected to the Radiology department in the hospital. Once there we were told we had to check in on the main floor at Admitting because Walter needed to be sedated and that would be handled on the Pediatric floor. 20 minutes later we made it up to Peds, got buzzed in through the door and waited. And waited. And waited. At 9:40, an hour after we started this scavenger hunt, a Child's Life volunteer came out and explained that somehow they had not been informed we were even there. Head of Child's Life, Debbie came out, and stayed with us for the rest of the procedure. She kept Walter entertained with a shower caddy full of toys, several of which he got to keep. After about 15 more minutes, Nurse Mary Anne came and told us that they had been looking for us for over an hour but that Admitting kept telling them we hadn't checked in. She was great and really sweet with Walter while she walked us down the hallway to the sedation room.  There we met Dr. Matt and, long story short, Walter got a little sleepy. The scans were fast and Walter was wonderful through the whole thing. I actually think that by the end he was enjoying himself. Pediatric doctors and nurses can really make or break a visit, and we were extremely blessed to have a great little entourage with us the whole time keeping Walter and myself calm and put together through everything. Dr. Matt and Nurse Mary Anne even entertained Walter in the CT for me since I couldn't be in there for the actual pictures due to Baby #3.  Walter got first class treatment and was wheeled out in a little red wagon to our car, happy as a clam and ready to do it all over again. He gave Nurse Mary Anne a huge hug and asked her if he could stay with her and his wagon. She laughed and said, "Walter, for your sake, I hope I never see you again!"

The scans were crystal clear. Another crisis averted. JL and I rented a carpet cleaner and the whole house looks like new again. It was really gross to see how much dirt and muck pulled up from the carpets not including the vomit. I think we'll now be doing that every 6 months or so.

In the meantime, we just get to keep Walter entertained and mostly calm for the next few days until he is out of his concussion "risk period" and then we can get back to normal again.

Next year....

anti-guilt trips for moms everywhere

A few weeks ago I posted about how I've been a grouchy Mom and the steps I was/am taking to be better in the moment with my boys.  Last week I felt a real dip in that motivation.

JL has been working odd hours and taking more on call shifts as we get financially prepared for Christmas, and his school load has been much more demanding this term than last. I feel like the second our heads hit the pillow we are both out which leaves no real time for actual communication. I love my husband so this makes me sad.

Both boys have been consistently under the weather. First we had the flu shot fall out.  Then Henry decided it was a great idea to cut five teeth all at the same time while Walter went through a major growth spurt. Then that morphed into a wicked cold and my house has been infiltrated by tissues covered in bright green mucus ever since. Blegh.

I've also had a fair amount of heavy contractions and now my OB is lecturing me on premature labor. Lectures from my OB always remind me of lectures from my Grandma Fowler. Sweetly worded guilt trips.

I am not one of those mothers that follows the rule that a messy home equates to happy kids. I definitely think cleaning is important and teaches children the importance of cleanliness. I also am not one of those mothers who will completely ignore myself to make sure my kids and spouse are happy. But sometimes my attempts at balance and sanity are completely thrown off by friends that tell me I shouldn't care so much. Friends that guilt trip me for putting the boys in front of Sesame Street every day to take a shower and get dressed. And after awhile all of that peer pressure and those comments start to work on me and I wonder if I really am even a tolerable mother and wife.

Now that I've whined that all out...the point is I was losing steam. Then I came across a quote by L. Tom Perry that completely changed my perspective.

One of the greatest weaknesses in most of us is our lack of faith in ourselves. One of our common failings is to depreciate our tremendous worth.

I love it so much it's my new background on my laptop.

Oh Henry...

I love this kid so much. There are really no words...

parenting....nailed it

I'm starting to realize that Walter and I take a lot of pictures like this. Both of my boys are busy reacting to their flu shots (thumbs down), so we're laying low around here. All this down time is really starting to bring out a bit of narcissism in Walter I hadn't realized was there. I'm going to worry about that later... for now, enjoy!

Strange Mom Admission: Is it wrong that my favorite physical feature of his is his birthmark smack on the center of his forehead that matches mine? Every time I see it I think, 'HA! I dare someone to say you don't belong to me!' It also makes a really good target for kisses.

Restart

I have been a grouchy Mom lately.  There is a long list of pathetic excuses that I've been using to justify my behavior, but in reality, I've just been a pill.

So I took a deep breath and hit the restart button. When I was single, I believed that the only way to restart was to move to a new place, meet some new people, etc. Everything I did was exterior with the hope that it would impact me emotionally.  I have since learned my lesson.

(Moment of embarrassing truth: Mostly because I love our little house that we rent.)

Restarts are pretty awesome. The boys and I have been snuggling and playing all day long.  Walter has really gotten into singing lately and he is currently trying to teach Henry the gestures to all of his favorites. Henry really likes dancing, so in an effort to combine their two loves, we've been having dance parties to Classic Disney songs. This has brought on a great love for the stuffed Sebastian that my brother gave me when I was little.

Walter and I have started a new alone time during Henry's morning nap. We get in my bed and snuggle under the covers like stow aways on a ship, reading books and talking and laughing. Yesterday, he looked at me and said, "I love you Mommy. You are my awesome friend."

Who can be grouchy with love like that?

I hit 6 months next week and I know that before I can bat an eye, baby boy will be here and all of these precious moments with Walter and Henry will be that much harder to soak up.  I have been extremely blessed to be able to stay home with my boys and I don't want to look back and regret filling my life with nonsense instead of focusing on what really matters.

My goose

JL got a great deal and bought Walter a turtle night light for $8. It must have been a hit because he was sweet enough to crawl into bed yesterday morning before dawn and show us what all of the different setting were.

In other news, we're potty training! We started this morning and Walter has only had one small accident. I am so proud of how great he is doing and am glad we waited until Walter gave us some serious signs that he was ready. *Fingers crossed* Hope this continues to go so well.

Sickos and grouches

We've been sick in these parts. And by we, I mean the littlest two Olmsteads.  Walter has been making this face a lot and Henry just toddles behind JL and I like a second shadow.  We've been lounging in our pajamas, or in Henry's case nothing but a diaper, watching a never ending stream of Word World and snuggling on the couch with books.

Hopefully their fever breaks soon so we can get back to our normal routine.

sometimes you just need an Olympian on your side

(This is a long and convoluted post, so bear with me.)

Seven weeks ago, I had my sweet OB tell me that there was a high chance that my pregnancy would end in miscarriage.

Rewind to 11 weeks ago when I recognized the many signs nature has of letting me know I am expecting. I had a panic attack. Let me clarify.

I know that most couples embrace every pregnancy with open arms and joy. When JL and I found out that we were pregnant with Walter, we were immediately elated. JL came home from work and he picked me up and spun me around our itty bitty living room until I wanted to vomit. We knew that there was a baby that needed to come and we were ecstatic.

There was a minor complication in my pregnancy that led to some expected bleeding, but other than that things were normal. We assumed that we would be able to carry on with our plan to have as many children as we saw fit in the time frame that we chose.

We miscarried three times before we had Henry. All four of the pregnancies were unplanned.  With each miscarriage I was thrown deeper and deeper into a state of severe depression.  I didn't understand what was happening.

The same minor complication that had occurred with Walter occurred during my pregnancy with Henry. The pocket of blood didn't dissipate naturally, however, and I spent my time on and off bed rest with a truly bloody birth finishing things off.

At my six week post-partum check-up, my OB and I had a quick discussion about the fact that my uterus was inverted, something that he or any other doctor I had seen had never brought up.

Four months later, I miscarried again. I was inconsolable.  I cried for weeks. My body had once again  betrayed me in a way I never thought that it would. As a child, as a teenager, and as an adult, I never once supposed that I would be unable to successfully carry children from the start of a pregnancy to the end. For months, I would burst into hysterics and my sweet husband would hold me and remind me of our two beautiful boys. Of Heavenly Father's timing. Of trials of faith and lessons learned.

After five months I finally found closure. I realized that I might never have another child. I thought about how wonderful it was that JL and I met at such a young age when my body would have the energy and ability to fight for our babies. I pondered on the many women who never get to have children in this life. Who was I to complain when I woke up every day to two of the most loving children, healthy and strong and mine?

One month later we found out we were expecting. I dreaded the thought of losing another pregnancy but I was so overcome by hope that this would be different I let myself believe that it would be. Because of previous complications and miscarriages, I went in at 8 weeks for my first check-up.  I felt great! We usually miscarried by 7 weeks, so I was feeling confident that the hardest part was done.  My OB breezed through the beginning of the appointment. We talked about how my thyroid medication was working, how I was feeling, how I was handling things with the boys, etc. As we moved into the ultrasound room, I called JL back and he stood next to me and held my hand while we watched that little heart flutter on the screen. It took a second to process the large pocket of blood, but when I did, I didn't think anything of it. I'd seen the complication with both boys so why wouldn't it be there for this child? My OB hummed and printed twice the usual amount of pictures, shot us a small smile, and told us to meet him back in the exam room.

We got down to business. The pocket of blood was unusually large, but even worse, it was blocking the placenta from fully attaching. Until it cleared away, if it ever did, the placenta was stuck with no where to go, having attached firmly on either side of the pocket. Our rate of miscarriage was four times higher than normal. He wanted to see me in a week to do another ultrasound. Until then, I was advised to minimized my activity as best as possible and be on the watch for hemorrhaging.

When I returned a week later, my OB realistically laid out the next few months. He had looked through my file and assessed things. He said it was a small miracle we were able to get pregnant so easily and an even greater miracle that we had carried both boys to full term. The ultrasound showed no change, if anything, the pocket of blood looked larger, bigger than the baby. He gave me a list of restrictions and told me that if I started cramping to sit down and stop moving. I knew in that instant that if I combined my faith and his willpower that we would get this baby here safely.

At my appointment two weeks ago, the blood pocket had shrunk dramatically. The baby was healthy and beautiful. And most importantly, I knew that no matter what happened this baby would always be mine.  So while there is still a 25% chance that we will miscarry for what would be the fifth time, I'm at peace. I'm calm with the knowledge that this is out of my control because, just like most mothers, I say about 100 prayers a day and I know that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me completely. I know that I have a husband who cherishes me even if we never bring another child to this Earth. I know that I am a mother to two boys, that I will always be their mother, and just like with this little swirly fetus that I feel moving around as I type, nothing will change that.

And all of those things and so many more make me one of the most blessed women.

and baby makes 5!!!

If the ultrasound didn't give it away, we're having another baby!!!! JL and I are elated, Henry is unsure, and Walter is only excited about the prospect of having a baby sister.  (We don't know yet what we're having, but he is DEMANDING a sister. Talk about putting the pressure on.) If all goes well, we'll be meeting this little one around January 15.

At a measly 14 weeks, I've yet to gain any weight, but this baby is no longer hiding from the world. I've had to pack away most of my regular clothes and pull out all of my maternity things. Especially pants!

I'm looking forward to a very exciting holiday season and an extremely happy new year!

who needs a splash park!

This week I gave in to the incessant heat and hauled the boys down the road to the local Kmart. I strolled out $2 poorer with this beaut. Best purchase of the entire summer! Every afternoon before dinner I haul out the hose and let our poor, malnourished grass get a little water and the boys run in and out of the sprinkler, happy as little clams.

But the absolute best part is that Walter moves the hose around the yard for me as spots get "so wet", so I can lounge in my little plastic chair under our tree.

(Walter moving the balls out of the way and prepping his muscles to move the water 3 ft.)

Brothers!

a less than perfect weekend

Yesterday I woke up with a fast developing migraine that left me dry heaving in a Sam's Club toilet and eventually emptying the entire contents of my stomach on the cold concrete floor of our garage. Classy.

JL nailed his trusty, much loved and therefore much ripped childhood quilt to our window and I slept the entire day away. I woke up and we had In N'Out for dinner.

We went to bed. I woke up with the same headache and have spent the majority of the day subtly popping my neck and pretending to be normal. Which worked out so well we left church 20 minutes early.

The boys won't nap. JL is busy with church responsibilities. I have a meeting in an hour.

Sometimes I just have to call it.



[The best part of days like today are that JL really gets to flex his awesome muscles and remind the kids and I why we love him as much as we do. Piece picker upper extraordinaire! I love that man.]

in a moment of sincere frustration

Isn't it funny how the past can come creeping back up on us in the best possible sense? This afternoon during the boys mutual nap-time (hallelujah!), I got on Pinterest to see what I've missed in the last week of ignoring the computer. There on the top of my boards was a picture of my Relief Society President from my freshman year in college with a link to her blog, pinned by one of my dear friends, Amelia! I happily clicked the link and dove head first into a sea of optimism and motivation to keep trying! It was nothing short of a metaphorical blanket wrapped around my weary and tired shoulders.

Like all young mothers, I feel the daily tugs from kids, JL, school, church, health, and my own need for five minutes of complete silence. I have moments, sometimes weeks, where I just want to throw my hands up in the air and sit down and sob.

[Today Walter took a red block and pressed it against the hallway wall juuuust hard enough to transfer the paint from one surface to the other. My two-month old coat of paint ruined by red scribbles that won't come off.]

And just like all of those times Mindy randomly stopped by my dorm room, or we ran into each other on campus, she reminded me to keep going. In a post discussing books by the author Linda Eyre, she finished with a quote that I direly needed to hear.

"I'll have to be honest and tell her the whole truth about mothering. When she ask me what to expect, I'll tell her to expect surprises. I'll tell her that mothering is the hardest thing she will ever do, but that it is also much more joyful than even she can fathom.... There is no greater joy in life than that of being a mother. Along with the job description comes not only chauffeur, cook, maid, and drill sergeant, but most importantly, gardener of souls - fertilizer, weeder, waterer, exposer to the light, and then watcher as each seedling grows and becomes it own beautiful self... Truly, motherhood, complete with its valley depths and mountain peaks, is life's most astounding experience!"

I highly recommend any mother of young children to hop on over to Mindy's blog, Busy Bliss. She's got such a contagious enthusiasm for life, and let's be honest, we all need a little boost from time to time. She also has no shame in sharing some of her epic fail moments, i.e. driving over a poopy diaper in the library parking lot.

Silence...

Walter is at his grandparents' for the night. I miss the noise of my first baby through the monitor. He's a snorer.