Dailies

I love the immediacy of living with children. Every declaration uses the superlative. "This is the worst day of my life!" and, "You're the best cooker ever in the world! And Dad is the best cooker too!" In Liv's world, what happened yesterday hardly matters and tomorrow might as well be a spinach sandwich for all its relevance in her life.

Within this paradigm there are infinite opportunities to start over and to forget the troubles of before or later. As they say in the Lego movie, Everything is Awesome (TM). Granted, the movie's message is tongue-in-cheek (everything is NOT awesome, in fact). But the irony is lost on the 7-and-under set.

Lego Movie 2013 attended by Emmett, Liv, Ally, PJ, Lauren and Krista

[Sidenote: It doesn't bode well that the lead character in this popular kids' movie is named Emmet. If Ally had been a boy and we'd named her Emmett seven years ago (as we'd planned) I think she/HE would have been spared the fate of being renamed "Emmett R." all through school. As it is we might have stumbled into a trend.] 

We also definitely fell into the promotional trap Lego set for us...we saw the movie and started remembering how fun Legos are and then bought a bunchofem. I don't regret it. Sometimes I get tired of kicking against the pricks. ;-)

This afternoon we're all sitting around the table with our colorful pile of bits and pieces and Liv declares this is, "The Best Time I Ever Had." May it last all afternoon and even through dinner. 

Because we're having lentil soup.

Season 2, Episode 5

It's my baby's 5th birthday.

i

O Brave New World That Has Such Babies In't

We have a new person! On October 1 (his due date), Emmett Thomas joined our family. And promptly ruined the couch.

At 3 months he weighs about 18 pounds and is in the 97th percentile for height, weight and head size. His birth mimicked Ally's, a fact that the midwife predicted. The third is similar to the first--have you ever heard that before? I hadn't. But true to the pattern, contractions started at around 11 pm Monday night, September 30th. We didn't wait long at home before they started coming on strong (the green Thai curry I made for dinner?), but as we started the long drive up to UCLA they got weaker and farther apart. I almost made Bim turn the car around but the midwife agreed we should just come in, given my history with speedy labors. 

We arrived, left the car with the valet and got checked in through triage. The very young resident* who checked my vitals also felt my belly and kindly informed me that I was about to have a not-small baby. (Information she could have saved for later, but whatever. I guess I asked her or something.) We went down to the late-night cafeteria and Bim bought a sandwich. I started to feel the real thing again and found that lunges were helpful. I'd also brought Liv's rice-filled homemade heat pack (her "moon pack") and Bim heated it for me in the cafe microwave over and over as I tried first to ignore, then to cope with the increasing pain. We went upstairs.

Lunges in the hallway of UCLA's maternity wing, which is set up like a big square. I made Bim sit in once place as I lunged my way around and around in my Doctor Who over-the-knee tardis socks. The midwife met us in the hall told me to come back in when I felt ready. It didn't take very long. When it got bad enough that I couldn't lunge anymore and I thought I'd throw up, I found a dark waiting room for us to sit in off the hallway . I made cat poses on the bench while Bim listened to his iPod. It was awesome. Only not. Doesn't matter--they're all good memories now.

They moved us to a delivery room and hooked me up to all the fancy monitors that don't work very well, like that elastic band with the rolling computer-mouse thing on it that's supposed to stay put on your bowling-ball belly and never does (hm, who do I know who patents medical devices?). Another very young nurse, this one most certainly new, tried to drive a big needle into my right arm but only succeeded in releasing a lot of my blood and freaking Bim out. After several botched attempts she got it in the other arm.

We called Lauren to come up and she was there pretty quickly. The girls stayed with our friend Tori (the Tori who, pregnant with her fourth, still took on both my kids and got Ally to school the next morning at 8) so that Lauren could be with me. She arrived in our room pretty hungry but in time to see me throw up and get hooked to my fabulous epidural. I think that display staved off her hunger for a while, but when pushing wasn't proving very fruitful she decided to jog down to the cafeteria. That of course did the trick. She was only gone a minute before I knew that baby was ready to GET.OUT. I held him back while they ran after Lauren and as soon as she returned Emmett popped out his lil' head. I got to watch too, thanks to the position I was in and a hand mirror held up strategically. Pretty fantastic. He was out after not too much hard work. Sigh of joy. The midwife said, "Look at his big hands!"

When we were transferred to the recovery room I started feeling stir-crazy and crazy-hungry. So many people from the hospital staff wanted a piece of me and not fewer than three, but possibly more than ten, people asked me how I was feeling emotionally. Did I accidentally tick the "depression risk" box? I got some of the brochures on postpartum depression that I helped to write when I worked in PR. Finally I noticed a note on my chart..."AMA" and figured it out. Advanced maternal age. I am "litrally" too old for this.

Oh, but not really I maintain that childbirth in our time and place is a not-terrible experience, and even a great one when everything goes right. But that doesn't mean I was ready to do it again right away, or ever. I am so in love with my three babes. And the more we all get to know our boy, the more that feeling grows. 

In the weeks after bringing Emmett home I felt like I rode on a giant wave of bliss. Knowing this was my last baby made me slow down and focus on him, letting the outside world slide out of view. Wonderful, but wonderful friends brought food, gifts and visits. I couldn't ask for better friends. And my sister was right there with me all the way. How fortunate I feel. And ready, so ready, for all of us to move to boy town. Here we come!

(*note to self: remember to get pictures from Sony camera)

Mt Baldy

To the snow!

Olaf

The Most Wonderful "th" of the Year

O, advent calendar. So beloved and yet so stingy, doling out your measly bits of chocolate one at a time. An entire day between chocolate bits? Liv struggles.

"Mom, what 'th' is it?"

"It's still the 17th, honey."

[Sharp intake of breath.] "I never ate my chocolate yet!"

"Oh, babe. You sure did."

We may or may not have done a little sneaking ahead. I like to think of sampling ahead on the advent calendar as looking hopefully into the future. Tomorrow might be a desolate day, but as of right now? It tastes good.

We had a pretty nice little Saturday on this, my favorite day of the year: the Winter Solstice. I'm usually a grinchy shopper this time of year. Inevitably there is something I can't get online and I have to venture into the crowds and be away from my family at a time when I'd rather be close to them. Lucky for me, I'm married to Bim, who fears no crowd--yea, who even enjoys the noise and activity of holiday shopping. His good mood is enough to cover all of us. And so this year we all went together. It was so fun to see the girls get excited about their little gifts. "Mom, look over there for a second! Don't look over here!" Usually I encourage them to make their own gifts at home, but they loved picking out some small things. This year, next to the clay snowmen and pictures of cigars (that was so last year), Bim and I look forward to opening our rolls of masking tape and Justin Bieber-singing teddy bears. Yes, anything you want!!! $5 limit.

After the shopping, which we blessedly contained to two hours, Bim took the kids to the Naples boat parade while I went home to get ready for friends to come over for hot chocolate, cider and grilled cheese sandwiches. I was supposed to join them at the parade but drove for an hour without finding any parking within several miles. All of Long Beach was out tonight! Someday all the kids will be big enough to ride our bikes--and that might be the next time we try the boat parade. 

Still, I'll remember today as being full of the best parts of Christmas despite being the shortest day of the year. We stuffed, stamped and mailed our cards, picked out fun paper to wrap the treasures we can't wait to give each other (hint: it's gonna be a weird cat Christmas), and sampled some of Trader Joe's finest sipping chocolate just how I like it, dark and bitter. The best part is, there's still time to spare. It's a smaller, slower Christmas this year, and I love it.

Santa 2013

Crickets

Hear that?

It's the sound of doing nothing for six weeks. And how blissful it's been. Largely blissful. After a year of dodgy emotions, hormones and rearranged body parts, I am deeply in the mood for nothing. Can I sit and read you a story? Sure. Can I lie down in bed with you at night? No problem. Yes. Can I leave those dishes undone and can we eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches for dinner (again) and can you stay longer on the school playground and can you skip piano practice tonight? Hallelujah, yesss. In fact, Emmett insists on it. I'm glad he doesn't much mind the kiss'n'hugs, the getting laughed awake, the awkward sister holding. He doesn't mind much of anything as long as he gets 12-14 squares a day. 

During these weeks of quiet there has been some time for reflection. I reflect that I may need a primer on how to be a human being. I fall into old, humiliating patterns. For example, if I think that going around feeling heartsick and melancholy for the troubles going on around me is making anyone's day any better, then I am completely out to lunch. Maybe being busy, happy, and keeping my head in projects is the best of what I have to offer right now. It's a concept I have to keep learning all over again.

Which leads to my next reflection. It seems to me that all of life happens in a moment--this moment. Much of my life through my twenties was about the future: what can I do to make sure this, this and this happen some distant and future day. That time of life seems to have passed. Now I find myself thinking a lot about the past and about the day I'm in. The past doesn't seem to help much at all. Really I think all the philosophy and talk I've ever listened to or offered is wasted air if I can transform it into the action of now. That's where I am right now, right or wrong. Which is to say that maybe keeping up a cheerful daily effort actually does seem to matter. 

On the subject of projects...AH! So many fun things. Besides a lot of blog backlog (blacklog?), we're working on at least a dozen plans, including:

Treehouse - stay tuned and I'll try to post our progress on this exciting new feature that Grandpa Tom has been adding to our backyard. I've had a post in progress, of this and other projects, for a while, but.... my camera has been fritzy this summer and I haven't been able to download pictures without first having them converted to a disk at Costco (Quel hassle). 

Lights, lights, lights. We recently had the trees trimmed so I can finally put the outdoor lights back up. No one gets as excited about this as I do, but I truly love to have twinkle lights come on every evening at dusk. It's such a simple pleasure, so cheerful and cozy.

Ally's 7th birthday. Whoa.

Other things to remember...

Liv takes an active interest in Emmett's bowel movements. She always wants to see what's in the diaper and asks the same question every time: Mom, did Emmett poop in his diaper? as if this were both the naughtiest and most hilarious possibility ever. She calls nursing "milking," as in, Mom, are you milking Emmett? It's not a flattering phrase but I can't seem to break her of the habit.

Both girls rush to him when he comes into the room ("A baby walks into a bar...") ... even now, six weeks after the blessed event. They laugh and coo and paw at him. He suffers the attention with big, bewildered eyes.

Bim took his parents out to eat while they were visiting this week. He told me this story when he got home:

Ally: "Why did someone write *edited* in the bathroom?" 

Bim: "You know, you really shouldn't read the things that are written in bathrooms."
Ally: "But what if someone wrote something nice, like, 'you are special?'"

Ally continues to be the most enthusiastic person in the universe. She feels things very deeply and cried hysterically (with despair and joy) this week while watching "Hook" with us. He's so happy! [SOB!] His happy thought is that he's a FATHER! 

Her softball coach cracks up at her enthusiasm. She started this season with no knowledge of the game and has worked very hard. Today she had her first hit--a double!

Liv continues to love gymnastics and is getting ready to perform a dance in the Winter Spectacular, to the tune of Dominic the Donkey. She only agreed to be in the show after confirming that her friend Maddie will also be dancing. 

This is turning out to look like on of those long family letters you get at Christmas. Should I start referring to myself in the third person and telling you all my triumphs? Oh, I have none. I made a person and so far he really seems to like me.