Our House

Our house started to feel smaller when we decided to share the guest room as an office.

I hated having a desk in our bedroom, especially when listening to the clanking sound of the scanner at eleven o'clock at night while Kevin was trying to go through all the food orders, or when getting ousted from my own room because Kevin had to make a private bishop-ly phone call and had nowhere else to go.  So we got rid of the old desk, bought a new one, and put it (and the printer) in the guest room.  It was nice having the desk out of our room, but not so nice for my parents who came to visit during Evie's birth, seeing as how they now had to share an already tiny room with a big ol' desk.


We bought the desk at the same time we bought new furniture for the toy room... which is actually a dining room, but I couldn't stand to have the girls' cramped room jammed-packed with all their toys.  So we moved the large table from the dining room to the kitchen, and the littler kitchen table to the "toy" room as an art table...

Okay, scratch what I said in the beginning.  Our house started to feel small when we moved all the toys into the dining room.

And now we have our baby girl sharing a room with our nearly three-year-old little boy because we have no other place to put either one of them (which, technically, should be fine for a few years).  And one whole side of their closet is packed with food storage.

Yesterday Kev begged me to let him bring the printer back in our room, because that is the only room where we can use it wirelessly and works better.  So, of course, after bringing it back into our room, he had to walk back-and-forth across the house to place items in to scan and then control the scanner.  I have a feeling the laptop is going to end up in our room ultimately, and my original plans will have been thwarted.

So, yes.  I find it interesting that all throughout the month of gratitude-- the month when so many of my friends are posting daily on Facebook about what they are thankful for-- that I am wallowing in a bit of self-pity.

I want a bigger house.  Not a mansion, but just bigger... with storage space (we have none)... and an office... and another bedroom... and a BIG backyard.  Oh, and a three-car garage, so Kevin has a decent amount of space for his exercise equipment... and so I don't freak out every time he does clean-and-jerks thinking he'll lose his grip on the bar and it will go flying through the van window.

But, alas, we owe more on our house than it's worth (when we originally put 20% down on it), and it's worth about half what we paid for it.  And, unless, we strike it rich overnight, we are stuck.  Literally stuck.  I hate thinking of it that way, but I just feel trapped.  Helpless.

Now, that being said, I'm not so stupid as to not realize that many friends would read this and think that I should count my blessings-- that there are others out there that have it so much worse than me.  No doubt.  But we all have our trials, custom fit to try us and stretch us and direct us in ways the Lord sees fit.  So, personally, I don't like to compare the difficulty of challenges.  In saying I struggle with my own, realize that I'm not saying a thing about the difficulty of anyone else's.

But... because I also realize I'm dwelling mentally in a place that isn't helping me any, I'm going to do as I should.  Count my blessings, that is.

 I am grateful for my family-- for the family that raised me and for the family I am raising.  I could add Allie and Sami to my list of challenges as well, but since I'm trying to feel better right now, I'll just think about how fun and creative and smart they are.  I'm grateful for the memories I have made with them, and that there will be many more in the future.

I am grateful for my husband, and for the way he begs the kids everyday to be good to me.  They ignore him much of the time, but he always hopes that he will come home to a smiling, calm wife.  I'm grateful he doesn't give up hope.

I'm grateful I get to sing with the Chamber Singers... and that my sweet husband is so supportive in bathing and putting all four kids to bed by himself on night a week, so that I can go do something that fills my well.

I'm grateful I don't have to shovel snow or drive next to semis on an icy two-lane freeway anymore.

I'm grateful for the temple, and for the peace and spiritual renewal I feel there... even if it is 1 1/2 hours away  and I have to rush in and then rush out because of having children that need to be picked up from school.  I'm use to the long drive now, and I'm actually grateful for that time it gives Kevin and I to talk.

I'm grateful for a strong back.  If you know my mom, you understand where I'm coming from.

I'm grateful for good health.  It's a miracle that with all the germs that have been floating around this house in the past month, I have escaped them all.  Truly a miracle-- a tender mercy from the Lord.

I'm grateful for modern medicine that allows me to regulate my hypothyroidism, and allows Sami to sleep peacefully through the night even with a runny nose and deep cough.

And, yes, I am grateful for our tiny house.  It may frustrate the heck out of me, but at least I have a roof to keep me dry.  And, I am sure grateful that we can still afford to live in it-- that Kev still has a good job that provides for us.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the living room (that I am so grateful for) to play a board game with my sick little Sami (whom I'm also grateful for) until my other lovely children (I like them, too... most of the time) come home from church.

Wow.  I do feel better. (But I still want a bigger house...)

Star Student

Allie has been the Star Student in her class this week (and Sami has been Student of the Week as well!). Each day special time is given to that student, either to share their favorite things or pictures, or to read their favorite picture book to the class, or to share a letter written to the class by the parent. The letter was read today, and I had included a CD of two videos to go along with it, but the CD wouldn't work for her teacher. And even though I had put them both on YouTube, her school computer wouldn't allow access to them. So, I'm including one of them on the blog to see if maybe she can get at least this one from here. (I tried to upload the other one, too, but it wasn't working) Sigh...




This video is from December of 2007. I had just gone to choir practice, and Kevin turned on a CD of old-school rock 'n' roll Christmas tunes. The girls really liked "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus"...


Good luck, Mrs. Kohlstedt! :)

The Church's Children's Art Exhibit

About a year and a half ago, the Church called for children's artwork portraying how the gospel blesses their lives. Some of the artwork was to be used in an exhibit in Salt Lake City this summer. I was on the website for The Friend, the Church's children's magazine, when I came across a link to see artwork from the exhibit. I went to the category for 6-year-olds (since she was that age when she mailed hers in). Sure enough, there it was! On the 5th page of artwork, 4th from the left on the middle row. Go to http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=21bc9fbee98db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD&locale=0&sourceId=efee746fb7b5d210VgnVCM100000176f620a____ and click on "start" to get to the art and then go to page 5. So cool! Allie was thrilled!

Evie's Birthday

There are plenty of other things I could be doing right now, but I knew I needed to make myself sit down and record the events surrounding Eve's birth. Probably more important than, I don't know, say, emptying the waste basket in the bathroom (which is pretty much overflowing right now...).

This is the only birth out of all four that has gone as planned. Allie came two weeks early, Sami came a week late, and Drew came a few days before the scheduled c-section. But Evie decided to be merciful and wait patiently for Dr. Foster to cut me open and pull her out. My parents were relieved, seeing as how their plans to help have been foiled every previous birth. This time, though, they came a couple days early to learn the kids' routines and were able to be here while I was in the hospital, to haul the kids to school or activities, to to babysit so Kevin could visit his wife and new baby without having to wrestle Drew or reprimand the girls for fighting in the hospital room.

Eve Gwendolyn Smith was born August 25th at 8:04am, weighing 8 lbs. 3 oz., and measuring 21 inches long (which the nurse at the pediatrician's office said must have been wrong). Kevin and I arrived at the hospital shortly before 6am. As I waited on the hospital bed while the nurses filled out paperwork and prepped me, Kevin sat reading the book of baby names, as usual. Months earlier I had mentioned the name Eve to him, which he liked at the time, but didn't seem excited about. At one time he had also mentioned to me that he liked the name Gwen. I thought to myself that combining the two would make a nice name, but I hesitated to bring it up... until we were sitting there in the hospital room in official "name" mode. His head was buried in that book, and I just mentioned, "You know, I still really like the name Eve." He looked up and said that it was funny I should say that-- he had just read the name Eve and it hit him that he really liked it, too. So I brought up Gwendolyn as a middle name, and he liked that, too. We decided to go with it once they had wheeled me out of the operating room and into Recovery.

Evie had a nice strong cry when they pulled her out. I was relieved to hear it-- when they had pulled Drew out, he was silent, and I was terrified. After they had suctioned him out, he finally cried, but for a moment I feared there was something terribly wrong. Hearing Evie's cry was such a relief! And I teared up hearing it. I already loved her. And I love her more each day.

I've had many friends say she looks just like Sami, or, at least, that she looks like a Smith baby. I don't know. Maybe. She just looks like Evie to me.

She's a bit fussier than Sami ever was-- seems a bit more like Allie. Isn't too keen on being a baby-- immobile and needy. Just now I caught her squirming around in the baby swing literally trying to sit up, it seemed. For Pete's sake! Sit up? She's only three weeks old!

Allie and Sami love having her around. Allie begs to hold her, and Sami will sit next to Evie and "read" books to her. Drew has being getting more used to not being the baby anymore, and, thankfully, hasn't shown any animosity towards his baby sister. He actually takes pride in being a good big brother-- rubbing her head, calling for me when she's crying, or even trying to hush her cries with, "Shhh... it's okay, Evie. It's okay..."

And I think I will end here, because my high-maintenance baby is calling me again. Probably sick of Sami reading to her. :)

Happiness

My mom asked me while she was here if the thought of Evie being our last baby made me sad. I said no. That I had known it had to end sometime. That I was relieved by the thought of never having to be pregnant again. I was exhausted and overwhelmed by having to juggle the lives of four children. Some women handle having large families better than others. Admittedly, I'm one of the "others". Lately, as I have walked through our house of chaos, cluttered by diapers and blankets and "baby gear", I have dreamed of the day when we'd get rid of it all. Only a few years to go... only a few years to go...

And then Evie fussed this morning. I had just fed her, her diaper was pretty clean, and she hadn't been awake all that long. I couldn't figure out what she wanted. All I wanted was to take a dang shower. Drew was camped out in front of Sesame Street, so I thought it would be a good time for me to sneak away and get cleaned up. But nooooo. Little Miss had to start crying. So I picked her up, held her head, with her face resting on my chest, and hugged her close. I turned and saw our reflection in the mirror. Her cries had stopped. Her eyes had closed. It was the most serene image I had ever seen. Even with my ratty clothes and tousled hair. I looked at that face and felt my tears well up. And suddenly I was sad and grateful all at the same time.

I looked around at my disaster of a bedroom and thought about that day I had been so looking forward to, and suddenly the thought of giving away the swing or the bassinet and leaving baby-hood forever seemed really... sad. The thought of this being the last newborn to cuddle and calm broke my heart. I'd miss the fresh, milky, baby smell. I'd miss the soft, perfect skin. I'd miss the lullaby music I had played for all of my kids during nap time. So I held her close, soaking her in, really trying to imprint her perfect image in my brain.

Since I brought her home, I've struggled. Struggled to be happy. Struggled to find "me" again. We've battled illness around the house, trying to keep those nasty germs away from Evie. We've dealt with disaster as Drew fell face-first on the wood frame of the bunk bed and jammed his teeth into his gums while Sami tried to hoist him up from a clothes bin... all while I was nursing and Kevin was out doing to yard work. And then I couldn't figure out how to fit a newborn into a routine of school, dance, and soccer. Oh, and don't even get me started on the reality of having very little to wear right now...

But looking at that precious little face, so at peace in my arms, all my struggles faded momentarily. It was just her... and me. And for the first time since leaving the hospital I felt happy. What a blessing! What a joy that I have the the privilege of spending life and beyond cherishing this little soul. My heart, while saddened at the thought of Evie being "it", was overflowing with gratitude for the magnificent children I have received.

You'd never know it by the look of my face right now-- all snotty and tear-stained. But I really am happy. Truly, I am.

Time to get Drew and Evie in the stroller and go pick up their spunky big sisters... and give them a really tight squeeze.

Silence

I am alone.

No joke. I really am... at least four days out of the next week and a half.

Sami started Kindergarten today, and Drew is off at his two-day two-year-old class at the preschool. I had thought about running around doing errands, but it has been far too long since I have had this much quiet that I thought I'd just sit here and write something.

Right... something...

Perhaps this should be a day of tears for me. My babies are growing up. I was just sobbing about that yesterday evening, actually-- was listening to (and singing along with) a BYU Singers CD as I made dinner when "Turn Around" came on...

Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two,
Turn around and you're four,
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of the door...

And then I was crying, looking over at my two girls sitting at the bar stools talking about things I can't recall. I had just been yelling at Sami about an hour earlier because of some fit she was throwing, and after a long day of church on my own, I had no patience for it. Suddenly at that moment, though, it seemed so trivial compared to the thought of my little girls growing up so fast-- too fast. I left my station in the kitchen and walked around to give them both a squeeze. They both asked why I was crying, so I told them. Allie gave me a sweet smile and a hug, but Sami's eyes filled with tears. She felt it, too. In that regard, she's just like me-- a little tender-hearted sap who cherishes every stage of life and struggles moving on to the next. She's the type that will cry every time she moves on to the next school, or who will fall apart if we ever have to move out of this house. I know. That was me. Still is.

Which is why I am completely dumbfounded that I'm totally composed right now. Have not cried a single tear.

Must be the end of my pregnancy. I am so focused on surviving the "end" and getting everything prepared, that maybe my brain just won't let me be sentimental today. I'm guessing that will change once the baby is born next week. I probably look at that sweet little person, fresh from Heavenly Father, and be reminded of when my other girls were that tiny, that innocent...

Well, I've done it-- now I'm crying. See? Doesn't take much.

Wow, I really miss them. I'm enjoying the quiet, but I do miss them. Maybe I really should have gone to run errands. Then I wouldn't be sitting here crying like a sentimental schmuck.

And next week this process of guiding a little spirit through mortality starts all over again. The thought had been burdening me, weighing me down like an enormous rock, leaving me not knowing how on earth I would be able to handle four. But I'm reminded that I'm asking the wrong question, because nothing on "earth" will help me. Only Heavenly help will do...

And that enormous rock now seems like a treasure.

A Dream is a Wish

Here's the video from Allie and Sami's Joy of Singing recital on July 23rd. Enjoy! :)

Hittin' the Road (warning: this is a travelogue... which is okay here, because it's not Fast and Testimony Meeting)

Yesterday we returned from our first major family road trip since our move to FL from UT back when we only had a 1-year-old Allie. I had committed earlier in the year to sing with the Chamber Singers at the Washington National Cathedral in our nation's capital, the performance having been this past Sunday, singing prelude for the Evensong service. Of course after committing, I realized how challenging the activity may be, with me being nearly 8 months pregnant and having all three kids with us this time. Last time we sang at the Cathedral was in 2007, when I wasn't pregnant, and Kevin's parents came to babysit the kids at home while we flew to DC for a few days. Since we knew we'd have the while crew with us, we decided to make it a week-long road trip.

We loaded up the car with PB and J and fruit, snacks and suitcases, and a CD case-full of movies and music. The girls filled their backpacks with books, paper and markers, and we hit the road last Wednesday-- drove 9 hours to Charlotte, NC to stay for the night before moving on. As we continued to drive further north, the gradual change in foliage and landscape was a welcome variation from the typical sand pines and palmettos of the central Florida coastline. I loved the lush forests of North Carolina. Truly. If we had an extra week of vacation time, I probably would have lobbied to have us spend it all in that state.

The following morning we drove to Natural Bridge, VA. Had we not hit some nasty traffic on the way, we would have explored more in that area, but the congestion, due to an accident AND roadwork, knocked out over an hour of our free time. We at least toured the caverns at Natural Bridge, once owned by Thomas Jefferson. Drew made it difficult for Kev to enjoy the cave very much, since he insisted on just... well... being two-- a typical monkey attempting to run everywhere and climb everything. From the caverns we drove a bit farther north to Lexington, VA and spent an hour there, first seeing Southern Virginia University, and then walking the grounds of Virginia Military Institute where Stonewall Jackson once instructed.

We then drove nearly an hour northeast of Lexington to visit with our old BYU Wymount friends the Lassens. Erika graciously fixed us fajitas, and we spent the next several hours laughing and eating and watching the kids catch fireflies out in their backyard. Neither Erika nor Matt have changed a bit in seven years. GREAT friends... I miss all those Wymount buddies.

Friday morning we began our drive to Washington DC, stopping along the way to tour Thomas Jefferson's home Monticello in Charlottesville, and then making a quick stop at the grounds of the major Civil War Battle of Chancelorsville. Just before reaching DC we stopped at George Washington's Mount Vernon just before closing time, taking the very last (and slightly rushed) tour available.

Saturday was our big "museum marathon" walking day, starting out early and trying to hit the museums the kids had an interest in seeing. We spent the morning alone in the American History Museum, making sure to see the two items Allie and Sami wanted to see-- Dorothy's ruby slippers and Lincoln's top hat. After eating hotdogs and pizza in the shade on the lawn outside the museum, we made our way to the Natural History museum to see the T-Rex on Drew's list, as well as the exhibit of gems that captivated our girly girls. However, when walking from the back to the front of the museum, we walked right past some people that, out of the corner of my eye, looked like the Diehls, another family from our Wymount days. So I turned and, realizing it really was them, said, "Hey! Is that the Diehls?!" We hugged and chatted in the atrium for an hour while the kids played. It was incredible to run into them... in DC, of all places!

After taking the kids to the art museum for a short while, we went back to the hotel for a quick swim before leaving to have dinner in Rockville, MD with the Gibsons and Ryan Glasser, a friend Kevin worked with at Harris until his decision earlier this year to pursue a postdoc, and his girlfriend Marigny. We walked down to a square a few blocks from their apartment for dinner. After a late dinner and then taking the Gibsons back to their hotel, we all didn't get to bed till after 11pm. Needless to say, the kids were all a bit grumpy when we woke them up for Sacrament Meeting in the morning.

After attending the Capitol Hill ward, we went back to the hotel to each lunch and let Drew get a nap. Kevin took the girls out of the room while Drew slept, walking them to the grounds of a nearby museum to have their own "Primary", since they had to miss Primary at church. When they returned, we woke up Drew and piled in the car heading for the Cathedral. While the choir rehearsed at the High Altar, Kevin took the kids on a tour of the museum. Then all the family members and congregation members took their seat in the pews and we began the prelude. The kids were fantastic! I did not hear a peep out of them the entire time we sang. And even during the service, while I could see they were bored and wiggly, I only heard one or two noises from them. Of course, Kev had to bear the brunt end of the stress of keeping them quiet and contained, but he did a great job. Once the (incredibly long) postlude concluded, we left for the hotel, hoping to just have sandwiches for dinner, but almost immediately upon arriving in our room, the fire alarm sounded and we were evacuated. So we ate at a nearby cafe instead, with Allie crying nearly the entire time about how her tiger and blanket were going to burn up and would never be replaced. Of course, there was no fire-- the two clues being I never saw nor smelled any smoke, and we never heard sirens... ever. We were soon able to return to our room (only by walking up the stairs to the 5th floor). We changed our clothes and drove down and parked near the Potomac to walk around the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, as well as the Washington Monument (and to catch glimpses of the White House and Capitol). With all the miles of walking we did that weekend, my hands and feet still haven't fully recovered, in terms of swelling. I'm currently donning elephant feet... literally.

Monday morning we said good-bye to DC, and made the 9 1/2 hour drive to Savannah, GA. Tuesday we walked from our hotel to get on a Trolley tour of the city. We knew that with the kids, Kev and I wouldn't be able to explore all the things we wanted to, so we highlighted the things that would be of most interest to the kids. The Jepson art center was it, and it was right around the corner from our hotel. While the kids played in the children's activity area for a couple hours, Kev and I took turns touring the galleries and then discussing the art. The center was cool and clean and fairly quiet-- not busy at all-- so our kids pretty much had free-reign. After a quick dip in the hotel pool, we grabbed the stroller and walked to dinner. We then walked down by the river, where the girls were given "Savannah roses" from one of the many people making and selling them throughout the city. The sweet lady offered to take our picture in front of the bridge, and then told the girls about the history of the Savannah rose while she made one for each of them. Then we went for some ice cream before trekking back to the hotel for the night.

Before driving home yesterday morning, we once again walked down to the river to catch the ferry across the river, just riding it right back to our original port without ever getting off. And then we were on our way home!

Honestly, I am completely exhausted, and have let the kids watch an awful lot of TV and movies today. I have a week's worth of laundry to tackle, and the kids had already managed to destroy a perfectly clean house in less than an hour after walking in the door. But, you know, the trip was worth it-- even with the fits each day that we had to endure. I though a lot about the purpose of family trips (which, most definitely, are NOT "vacations"). Truthfully, Allie is the only one that might remember any of this trip, but Sami and Drew will most surely forget the whole thing eventually. The memories are for Kev and me. But rather the purpose is to strengthen family relationships, to strengthen our family bond. Because, really, if we're going to spend eternity together, we had better darn-well like each other.

Know what I mean?

Some Recent Videos

Here are videos from the girls' dance recital in May. They go to Gateway Academy at First Baptist Melbourne. Hence, the cross in the background... and the Christian-based music... and the modest "costumes" (that the teacher found at Ross, mind you, instead of those expensive "real" costumes you have to order-- love it!). Anyway, just copy and paste these addresses to see the videos.

Sami (Dance Exploration)-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Wg7TS3KLoo

Allie (Ballet 1A)-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWdh74vPwyU

Allie (Jazz 1A)-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnbIcZ1Tc90

Also, this weekend we had a choir concert-- our typical lighter summer program. I chose to do a solo-- "Adelaide's Lament" from Guys and Dolls. It was a ton of fun to do! I miss performing like this on a regular basis... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftvWTAS9frc

My Eyes are Puffy

It has been a while. A long while, admittedly.

Life has overwhelmed me to the point where I don't even know where to begin-- what to tackle first. So, oftentimes, the bigger, but less urgent tasks (such as documenting our lives) gets put on hold. I'm not sure if I ever prioritize correctly, which leaves me feeling extremely inadequate. And then I read about all that my wonderful friends are able to accomplish in a day-- clean the house, bake a birthday cake from scratch, take kids to school and activities, sew new curtains, read a book, AND post on Facebook-- and I realize I'm completely deficient. My house is an organizational and decorative nightmare. Toys and art projects are strewn throughout the entire house, compact as it is. I try to keep up with it, but the girls draw new pictures "worth saving" everyday (and their box where they place those pictures is constantly overflowing... even after I sort through and empty it). And no matter how many toys we give to Goodwill, someone is always giving them more-- new little toys from Easter, toys their own kids are too grown up to enjoy anymore, or stupid little toys from McDonald's.

And the minute I sit down to write something that I feel would be therapeutic for an ailing psyche, I have my oldest child whining about how she is hungry and wants breakfast.

Nevermind the fact that I have been weeping about my weaknesses since last night. Nope, not important.

I'm not saying all this to elicit any kind of compliments or comments on how "great" I am. Honestly, as Kevin told me this morning, no matter how much people try to encourage me, the only way I'm going to feel better about myself is if I feel good about who I see, not if others feel good about who they see. And I don't have the greatest view right now-- I'm neither sitting on a high peak, nor is my valley much to look at. Seems a bit of a barren wasteland.

No, I'm expressing all of this because it brings me some solace to do so. If it depresses you or makes you feel sorry for me, I'm sorry. But I just have to do it-- have to sort out all of these negative thoughts.

I realize what I have working against me. Being six months pregnant saps me of a lot of energy, and being the bishop's wife leaves me to parent alone a lot (which I'm used to after having been a Scoutmaster's wife for over five years). In the past two months, I have battled two cases of bronchitis and two cases of strep among my kids as well as sinus infections for Kev and me, leaving me unable to leave my house for much other than doctor's visits and prescriptions. Add on top of that, the normal school/dance routine, plus a recital, and choir concerts for me, and you have my life.

And while I should be getting us all started on cleaning the house (since we're leaving on a plane for San Diego tomorrow), instead I'm sitting here writing.

And I'm left again to question my priorities.

Truthfully, no matter what choice I'd make, I'd still question my priorities. Did I make the "right" choice? Am I going to suffer from it? Are my kids going to grow up needing therapy because I chose to sit here and write something (first time in months) instead of starting the family on chores?

And now that I look at things, the answers to those questions seem pretty simple simple... and silly. Obviously, when I'm doing my best to tend to the needs of my family (and myself), there's no real "right" choice. If I have to put off printing out and sorting hundreds of photographs so that I can help a sick child, so be it. Or if that means I can't get to the grocery store to get the ingredients to make a more stellar meal, leaving me to burritos and spaghetti (or even ordering out), so be it. Or if I have to sacrifice having an orderly house so that my kids can enjoy their millions (and billions) of toys and art supplies...well, at least they're happy. And of course, no child in their right mind is going to grow up with psychological issues because of any of that. No one would go see a therapist because their childhood home was a bit disorganized or not decorated according to the latest trends, or even because the bathrooms weren't spotless... unless, of course, they have OCD.

And I certainly don't believe that the Lord would walk into my home and shake a disproving finger at me for missing a few months of writing our family history because of illness, doctor's visits, and pure exhaustion.

Everything that needs to get done will get done. I just need to have some patience.

I also need to get my tail into the kitchen to have to some breakfast. I'm starving.

Ultrasound

If you haven't heard yet, I had an ultrasound this morning, and it went great! I haven't spotted for over a week, and the blood clot that was so visible a week and a half ago couldn't even be found. I thought I'd post a video of the little tike bouncin' around my womb.

Welcome, 2011!

I feel so incredibly lazy. Dr. Foster told me to try to stay off my feet until the bleeding subsides. Trouble is I feel normal-- I'm choosing my words very carefully, because if I say "fine" that would mean I don't feel bad. And I do feel bad, some days being worse than others. I say "normal" because I feel exhausted and nauseated... the same way I do during the first trimester of any pregnancy. But on top of that, now I feel just plain lazy-- sitting here on the couch letting Drew watch PBS Kids for hours. I need to wash towels, but they're just lying on my bedroom floor waiting to be cleaned because I'm trying to obey my doctor. And as much as I hate to admit it, so far his advice has already helped with the bleeding. Haven't had much since I talked with him and decided to take him seriously. But the ultrasound I had yesterday was also reassuring, even though that's where they discovered the unidentified mass in my uterus that could be either a large blood clot or a fibroid. We also saw the heartbeat-- 163 bpm, nice and strong. What a relief! Honestly, with all the spotting I was beginning to think the ultrasound wouldn't find a heartbeat at all.

Because of the nasty nausea I've been experiencing, I was afraid that my birthday this year would be a bust. Since it was on a weekday, there was nothing super fancy about it really. But my kids chose to whine less throughout the day (still not sure if that was intentional or not...), which was the best present they ever could have given me. For dinner we took a risk and went to a Thai food restaurant, because (oddly) I had been craving it all day.

But I always love the first couple weeks after taking the pregnancy test. That's the one time in the entire pregnancy where I'm pregnant without having any symptoms of pregnancy yet. We actually found out the week following Christmas-- a week Kevin also had off from work. We spent a day at the zoo that week, getting suckered into a tour of the Ron Jon Cape Caribe Resort, which we took a couple days later. We also took a day trip up to St. Augustine, since we were pretty sure the girls would remember nothing from the last time we were there, almost four years earlier. We toured the Castillo de San Marco, as well as the Pirate Treasure Museum, where Drew found a barrel full of foam pirate scimitars. He killed me the way he knew exactly what to do with one, that I bought him two-- one for him and the other for his opponent. He put them to immediate use, sword-fighting with Sami and helping Sami chop off Dad's head in the stocks. Seriously, he just "knows" this stuff, with very little outside influence. I mean, it's not like he's spending hours a day watching G.I. Joe-- on the contrary, thanks to two older sisters, he's quite fond of Tinkerbell and Cinderella. Barbie's up there, too.

The week after I started to feel sick, we flew to Utah, to spend six days playing in the snow with Grandma and Grandpa Smith and the kids' Clegg cousins. Grandpa left out his childhood model trains that he had set up at Christmastime. Surprisingly, Drew didn't destroy any. In fact, he loved watching them, as well as sounding the whistle. He slept in that room as well, and "sleeping with the trains" was what convinced him that sleeping in that big room all by himself was okay. All three kids loved sledding and throwing snowballs. Although, Allie needed to be coached a bit in snow-etiquette-- you know, like don't throw a huge chunk of ice in someone's face, especially when you're less than a foot away from them. Sami was a good sport about that one. We all really enjoyed the family time, and were reminded of how much fun it would be to live closer to everyone. So... that means everyone just needs to suck it up and move to Florida. Houses are cheap, people! Especially ours... now.

We didn't have too much time (and I had little energy) to see all of our beloved Utah friends, but we did get to spend one evening with Sarah and Jeremiah and their cute, feisty little Pete at the Dinosaur museum at Thanksgiving Point. Very few people were there, so the kids had full reign of the place. Even though tending to our wild children left us little time to chat, it's always good to see their faces.

Well, it has taken me three days to get through this post. I started on Tuesday, but have been so tired that I haven't been able to get very far without nodding off. And, yes, now it's Thursday.

I still feel lazy.

But my friends have been very kind-- bringing us dinner (thanks, Heather and Stephanie... and thanks in advance to Kendra), taking the girls to and from school (thanks, Kendra and Jill), and hauling Allie to dance (thanks, Michele). And Kevin, in spite of being very busy with work and his calling, has helped with laundry and the dishes and in nagging the kids to clean up. I'm very blessed.

And now Stephanie just called and offered to take Drew to the park with her and Heather and their two-year-old boys. I love it! So humbling as well... Angels truly are among us.