Little Fatties and 1st Grade Love

So after our third weight check for Baby Hazel she was still being placed in the major "light weight" category...the doctor prescribed some major fattening up however possible. So for the last four days she has been supplementing with a bottle and today's weigh in results are in:
She is a fatty...or at least on her way. Typically a baby should be back up to birth weight by week 1 or so and then gaining an ounce a day thereafter. At 3 weeks old she was still almost a full pound under birth weight. But after just four days of supplementing with formula she has gained almost an entire pound!! So congratulations Baby for not being labeled "failure to thrive"...may you continue to fatten up your little legs until puberty and then slow the weight gain appropriately. Good job little girl. (Just look at those teeny legs. Her legs were so little that her socks looked like fuzzy ugs.)
These are all the girls...our first picture all together (except for the ones taken by the photographer at one week which you will probably never see because of unfortunate copyright laws and whatnot...trust me, they were cute.) We have yet to have a family picture with the Dad of the group (unless you count the "all too soon after birth face puffiness" picture taken in the hospital--at least my hair is done in this one even though Haley refused to be happy.)Haley's teacher was kind and celebrated Haley's birthday with the class today at school (her birthday is really in August but apparently she is the only one in the class that doesn't have a birthday during the school year). The class all made cards for her. This was our favorite from a boy named Jake.
Allow me to translate:
(The front of the card said "Happy Birthday Haley")(I have taken the liberty of correcting Jake's spelling.) The inside says: Dear Haley, you are gross. I think you're an alien. But I used to have a crush on you.

Oh, gone are the days of honest and sincere love. Haley keeps saying "that is so romantic". We might have to go over a few pointers before she hits dating age.

Soooo sleepy...

Good-bye naps...Hello narcoleptic Mia at 6pm.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

(She did this for a full five minutes and continued to feed herself with her eyes closed...that is until she spilled her bowl with her forehead.)

Future Cat Woman...aka The Hoarder.

This is Abigail. Let me preface this post by telling you all how much we love and adore her. She is truly a delightful character. With that in mind, she may be adorable but she has a serious problem. She is a hoarder and a collector. Even this morning when I asked to take her picture she insisted that it include her dog, purse and notebook which she has been carrying around in her arms all morning. She loves bags, Ziplocs, purses, backpacks, anything that can carry STUFF.

Give her twenty years and she will be surrounded by stacks of newspapers and a cat walking across her shoulders while thirty other cats purr at her feet and poop in her kitchen. Let me clarify a few things here.

She did not grow up during the depression.

Bullies do not steal her toys.

She even gets three meals a day on her very own plate, a bed to herself and even her own presents at birthdays and Christmas.

Today on our walk while the rest of us threw rocks into the stream she was gathering them in her arms and stuffing them into her pockets. She didn't throw even one. In the morning she couldn't care less what her bed looks like but at night she can't lie down to sleep until everything is folded and in its place...including the myriad of bags she has stuffed with random odds and ends...this is just one of them that I emptied out today and threw things away without her knowing...it consisted of (but definitely not limited to) little plastic dinosaurs, two sleeping eye masks, Valentine cards and a receipt from dinner three months ago.

So who is this phenomenal hoarder you ask? We wish we knew. Until then we will just tell ourselves that she is priming her abilities to become a great collector someday.

PS My baby who still is not back up to birth weight at almost 3 weeks old, has teeny tiny legs and a skinny body that was most recently likened unto Mr. Burns from the Simpsons...without the age spots.

PS again. We have a house in Oakdale, CT where we will be renting for the next two years or so. Nothin' fancy but it will do. Come visit us anytime. Clark received our household goods last weekend and with any luck will have us all unpacked and moved in with home fires burning by the time we arrive...right honey?

And while we're not on the subject, can someone explain to me why this woman is nursing a baby in a wedding dress? (I came across it on a website where I was researching an herbal supplement that I have started taking to increase my milk supply that has been found greatly lacking with this baby--possible side effects may include an increased libido in men, or in women: your sweat and urine smelling like maple syrup and curry...mmmm, doesn't it make you want to sit by me on a public bus or stand very close to me in an elevator?...I'll let you know how that goes.)

I might just freak out.

We have been in Utah for almost 6 months. We are nearing the end...this statement alone makes my nerves twitch just a little. It means change is looming on the horizon. Change can be good...we usually look forward to change with excitement and anticipation. And indeed this change is a good one for many reasons...it is also a very scary one. You see, I have become accustomed to the fact that I am an almost 30 year old who has been living with my parents with three-and then four children. At least I wasn't living in their basement...and I did pay for food or gas occasionally. But I have been living in a house with three adults. That means two extra people helping me bathe, feed and care for three--then four children. I had companionship every day, all day. I don't like to be alone. I face moving to a new place (which can be good and fun but...) where I will be the lone responsible adult on the premises all day long. Don't get me wrong, my kids can be downright entertaining but do you know how nice it is to have the companionship of another adult around (and might I add fun places to eat? Do you remember the problem I have with Connecticut's selection of eateries?...there are none...and I will be living in reality again with a house payment and utilities...I won't be able to afford eating out at my desired frequency anymore anyway.)

I am truly blessed and grateful for my husband's job...but I really like to be with him. The job makes that difficult...sometimes for very long periods of time.

I am scared of the dark...I took comfort in these past months without a husband to snuggle at night in the scary dark of night, that my Mommy and Daddy were right downstairs (in case you were wondering, its a childhood fear that I simply never outgrew). Clark has duty from time to time, meaning he is essentially gone for a day and a half...I will have to invest in a new nightlight, a bright one...and think of some kind of weapon that will safely fit under my pillow for those lonely nights. And don't even get me started with deployments...I'm trying not to think about those right now.

I have been downright spoiled these last 6 months.

I am suddenly going to have to go back to being ultimately responsible for things like dishes, laundry, cooking dinner every night and picking up.

We are moving to a neighborhood that doesn't get high speed Internet...where are we going, Connecticut or Mars?

BUT lets end on an optimistic note:

We get Clark back.

I get to be married again to a loving, compassionate, fun husband. He is helpful and considerate. He misses his girls (ALMOST as much as we miss him).

I get to sleep in my comfy King sized bed again backed up to my live body pillow (aka Clark).

I won't feel horrible and stressed every time my kids do kid things (like run in the house and yell--though my parents repeatedly assure me that it is fine and it doesn't bother them...it bothers me.)

I'm anxious to see how many of my kids' bizarre and less than pleasant coping mechanisms fade away when we return to "normal life" and how many are now the "new norm". (Heaven help us all.)

I wonder if my parents have any idea the blessing it has been for us to be here. I know I don't thank them enough...neither do my kids.

I am not sure yet what that day will be like. Will I stride out of their door with Fraulein Maria's sunny optimism, singing and kicking my heels up or will I have to be pried from their front steps like a child that doesn't want to go to school? Only time will tell I suppose.

How much do I love pictures? A whole lot.

On Saturday we had some photos taken of the new little--it's just a sneak peak but enjoy!
Thanks Shay for being so patient and doing an amazing job!
And thank you Kris for such a perfectly beautiful gift!!
Check out some of her beautiful pictures.

The difference a day makes...

Hazel Christina
April 5, 2008
9:22 pm
8 pounds 21 inches

We checked into the hospital on Saturday morning and got everything hooked up and going. I was somewhat surprised to find that even with another week behind me, my body still just wasn't cooperating great. It took the longer part of the day to dilate to a 4, and effacement just wasn't taking place. The resident finally decided that I was just far enough to break my water to ease things along. This didn't progress things as quickly as expected either. I then regret that my little cheering squad (it was a special experience to have my Mom and two sisters there) had to witness lots of moaning and wincing. But they were there rubbing my hands, fanning my face, feeding me ice, speaking encouraging words and applying long lasting lip color lip gloss when needed. When the contractions got to be too much I opted for the epidural...I don't have a great history with epidurals and so after feeling mucho mucho paino for a couple more hours they came and redid it. There was talk of possible C-section right up to the last hour. The baby's name possibilities scanned from "Mud" to "Naughty" with her continual dips in heart rate...she kept us on our toes all day long. I continued to progress very slowly until about 8:45 at night when the doctor decided that I was close enough to try pushing. So with my trusty pep squad cheering me on I pushed for about 40 minutes and out she came. They let me hold her for quite some time before taking her stats and whatnot. The cord had been around her neck (explaining the frequent drops in heart rate) but she was healthy and good once the doctor got her all the way out.

Does that about cover it? If you are really interested, let me know and I'll send you a copy of my nitty gritty journal entry of the entire affair: including swear words muttered under my breath, how many times I promised not to do this again, the fainting half naked in front of three people, the tears of desperation and other bodily functions (ie blood clots the size of grapefruits).
Recovery is slow but every day is better...and just when I need the encouragement to make it through this new transition I get to look over at what we made and be undying grateful for the blessing of my daughters.

On Friday I had three kids...on Saturday I had four.
Yesterday I was in the hospital, and then I was home.
Last night I could barely walk, now I am more comfortable.
In the morning there were tears, in the afternoon we were fine...there will be tears again, and then there won't be, and then there will be, and then not...so it goes.
Clark was here yesterday, and now he is gone.
The transitions are the hardest things to remember accurately...they are the things I wish I had details of. How long did this last? When will this change, get better or get worse?
I am so grateful to have this healthy little girl with us...now life goes on.

(and in case you were wondering, she gets the constant furrowed brow from me.)

Second times a charm...

We are going in tomorrow morning to be induced...again (and if no dice, I'm ordering one C-section to go-as Clark has to fly out Monday, no exceptions.)
We will not come home without a baby this time. (and I will try to keep in mind the advice that my sister-in-law said in response to that...I won't steal a baby, I'll make sure it's my own.)
Don't let this image disturb you too badly...look away if it hurts your eyes. It's a card that my sister sent me for my first baby and I just can't seem to throw it away.
I made it small because it makes me kind of nauseous to look at.
Good bye pregnancy...you will not be missed much.

And now for something completely different...

I hope no one is too offended...but if you are, perhaps your sense of humor needs a little work.