Give me oil in my lamp

I'm having a hard time lately with my children. Mainly, the one with the blond hair. (Wait. That's really not much of a clue. ) Mainly the one that can be this happy one second:

and this mad the next.

Or who can wear pretty dresses, and still put on a face like this:

I keep hearing, "its the age". I don't want it to be the age. I want her to get over it. But, if it is truly the age, I want to be a better parent. So, I've been praying for guidance. I really need it. I love my baby girl. I want to be a good mom to her. I want to love spending time together like we do sometimes (lately, it always ends in arguing.)

I feel like this is only a preview of what Jr. High is going to be like.

No, they're not twins.

Yes, I realize they both have blond hair.

I also realize they have the same goofy smile when they're being silly.

I realize they like the same things,
and that they are about the same size.

But, no, they aren't twins.

And, yes, I'm sure.

smooshed

Look what I learned today!

Update:

I found a new burlap picture and used that instead. I like it much better then the first burlap I used. The other one was too bumpy or something.

Original post:

Sometimes browsing blogs can be really handy. For instance, I'm always looking for new things to do with my photoshop. I love the program, but I don't have the time or money to buy a tutorial book, etc. However, the author of one of my favorite blogs posted this tonight. Its a tutorial on making photos look "antique".



My first attempt, with using a burlap sack as the "antiquing" went okay. Better then I expected, though.

Original

Antiqued

My second attempt was using a scratched steel as the "antiquing". I like the results a lot better.

original

Antiqued

Here E has always thought that my internet time was worthless. Phoey.

Way back Whensday- baby #2

Since its Austin's birthday "season", I'm still thinking about him as a baby and his birth. So, here's some pictures I'm sure I've shared before. Just pretend you've never seen them.

9 days before Austin's birth

Happy birthday!!!

they're almost the same size



my twinkies

Concerts in the Park

It was a wonderful and beautiful night for a concert in the park. Normally, come July, we're sweltering while we listen to the music and eat a picnic dinner. Last night, however, we actually covered up with the blankets we brought! Who would've thought?!?!?

The music was super boring last night, but the company was lively- as usual.

A's birthday is tomorrow!

Why I was born to live in the south

• I hate cold weather.

• I love my tea SUPER sweet. Like rot-your-teeth sweet. Not "northern" sweet. I like it southern sweet.

• I think its cute when my daughter says "pancaake" and draws out the last part of the word.

• I prefer orange dirt to black dirt. (I don't even notice that the dirt is a different color than MI dirt anymore. )

• I hate snow that stays on the ground for more than a few hours.

• I love how a lot of kids learn to say "yes ma'am, yes sir".

• Outdoor malls actually make sense here- and I like them!

• I love that communities have pools (like ours!) That's something they just don't have a lot of in MI. Why invest in a club house pool when its only open for 3 mths?

• I think of 90 degree weather as "cooler" during the months of June, July, and August.

• I love the conservative "feel" of the south. Family values are important and not looke down apon in employment.

• I'm looking forward to a fall garden (who knew you could plant stuff in the FALL??)

There are many more reasons why we love it here. Those are just a few for your reading pleasure. Feel free to add your own if you're a southerner at heart like me.

step by step

step by step, we're putting a room we painted back together.

Its a bedroom, as you can tell from the bed that my half-nekkid brother is laying on.

When we painted, Austin HAD to help. He stayed pretty clean this time. Last time he painted, it took him all of 5 seconds to paint his forehead.

If you haven't guessed by now, we painted A's room. Its been the birthday "theme" this year. We painted Olivia's pink for her birthday in march. A requested "dark blue" as his color choice. We ended up painting one wall tan, and the other three blue, just so it wasn't too dark.

Here he is again, climbing up the ladder to look at MiMi.

We, of course, have finished painting and touching up. Yesterday E helped me put up A's letters and a few picture frames. I have a few finishing touches today and then I'll take an "after picture". Its coming together nicely.

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I'm also surprised at how I'm moving forward in this pregnancy. I had another OB appointment Wednesday. It was an interesting appointment nurse wise. I've been the OB/RE a lot. A lot, a lot. Lets just say that this nurse didn't impress me. I'll be surprised if she stays on much longer the way she did her job. She was sweet as pie, but got my weight wrong (and I'm not just saying that, either. she didn't come close to balancing the weight in the middle!) and barely found the baby's heart beat. If I didn't have a doppler at home, I'd be pretty peeved that I didn't hear it at that appointment.

I already had my appointment made for my anatomy ultrasound, but it didn't seem as soon until I went to my regular appointment on Wednesday. Now, I'm starting to panic a bit. I'm excited about finding out the gender, but I'm all too aware that this ultrasound is NOT designed for that purpose. Its designed to check out the baby. To make sure that things look normal. To make sure the baby is healthy.

That, folks, is that I'm starting to panic about. See, the thing is, I've read that women who have recurrent miscarriages are more likely to have a baby with abnormalities. (Its under the whole assumption umbrella of "something was wrong with the baby" spiel when you miscarry with out an apparent cause.) Even though my RE said that things looked good, and he didn't suspect any issues to arise, the only thing I can hear is the nurse-practitioner-in-training highly suggesting that I get the Quad Screen done because of my "history".

I'm taking things step by step, day by day (okay, fess up, who used to watch that on TGIF?? I KNOW I'm not the only one) until my ultrasound. I just want to see that precious baby on the screen. I want him/her to be vibrant, healthy, and a girl, happy baby.

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Speaking of happy, I sat for about 30 minutes last night, just feeling that little baby bean moving around in my uterus. It was so sweet. For some reason, it really likes it when I sit in the couch with my feet up, and my back reclined a bit. Its definitely the spot where I feel the most movement. I literally didn't want to move for a while, afraid that I'd stop feeling it for a bit. I've felt him/her move before, but never for this long. It was heavenly.

teaser

My parents were in town this weekend. Between lots of eating out, ice cream, swimming, and fireworks, we did this some where in our house:

More to come later.

But, for now, here's my almost-three-year old, blue-eyed, sun-kissed cheeked, short haired, ice cream loving, baby boy, A.

To support, not save

That's one of the biggest things I took away from my doula workshop that I took in April. My job as a doula is to support the woman in labor, not to save her. But, I have to say that its harder then it sounds.

I thought I'd be good at it, since I'm not super duper anti-meds. I'm okay with a hospital birth (especially since in AL, this is what I'll mainly be working with). I'm okay with an epidural if that's what a client wants. I'm okay with most things that come up if the client wants them.

However, I do have one weak spot. One spot that I get super passionate about. One that makes me tear up when I think about my clients going through it. Can you guess what it is? Those of you who know me personally can probably guess... A C-section.

This is my Achilles heal when it comes to being a support not savior. Because, if I could, I'd save everyone who came in contact with me from this. I really would.

So, when. after 35 hours of laboring with my client (she was 9 cm, but the baby was still at a -1 and her body had stopped contracting on the pitocin), the dr. came in to inform us that she would most likely have to have a c-section, I went into the hall and cried. Me. The doula. I went into the hall and grieved for my client. In that moment, I realized why they told us that phrase- support not save.

If I could've, I would've saved her.

Instead, I realized that no one else in that room could possibly be as good of a support as I could. While I didn't labor nearly as long, I know what it feels like when your body doesn't do what its supposed to do. When things don't go the way you planned. When you realize that they are going to "take" your baby from you instead of birthing it on your own. (And, for the record, I'm mainly talking about this kind of c-section. Not other situations. I'll explain what I mean later...) I have been there. So, I went back in, held her hand and basically told her what to expect. We talked about the c-section itself. We talked about recovery. We talked about how she'd have a baby in just a bit. We laughed about what color of hair we thought she'd have- and if she'd have any.

When we were finished, I went into the hall and called my mom and E. I asked them to please pray that something would happen between that moment and went he dr. came back in. I prayed like crazy. Asking God for a miracle.

You know the neat thing? He answered all of our prayers. He answered them through a nurse. The nurse that, only an hour ago, had written my client off as one who failed to progress. The nurse who told her that things didn't look good. She came back into the room and said- hey, lets try to push with this little contractions and see if I can get you to dilate to a 10. Then, the dr. will give you a bit more time.

This is where it gets cool. She pushed with her tiny contractions, (they turned off her pitocin and started her back again 30 minutes or so later. this helped with the baby contractions) and the nurse worked the cervix over and over again. A little while later, the nurse said she was 10 cm, with a lip. So, my client pushed some more, and the nurse worked some more. After a while, the lip was gone.

The dr. comes in now, checks her pushing, etc. and says "good work! lets keep it up". She pushed for 2.5 hrs. Good, hard, pushes, too! The nurse convinced the dr. to use the vacuum. Two more contractions and the baby was born!

It was such a turn around from 3 hrs prior, that it just took all of our breath away. I mean, we had packed up everything in that room to get ready to go to the OR. Everything! I can't guess what went through that nurse's mind, but I have to believe it was God breathed.

So, that was my experience for the last two days. It was tiring, it was exhausting, but in the end- so worth it.

Before my marathon birth, I had a sprint birth on sunday. I don't want to share too much, since I haven't talked with her about what to share. But, it was a wild and crazy birth! My client did great- got to 10 cm with out medication! Walked into the hospital feeling the urge to push. Baby wasn't really handling the contractions well, and it turns out the baby was breech! So, they did end up doing a c-section. From the time we got to the hospital until the time they did the section was just about an hour! Super fast! The baby was is sweet. Just a doll.

Here's where I'm going to explain what I mean about the c-sections. In the first situation I described, there was a lot of hard work involved. Mom made it to 41 weeks, had to be induced, labored for.ev.er, and was 9cm. So, the c-section would've been because of "failure to progress". That's what I hate. It just feels like its the mom's fault. Her body wouldn't do its thing right, etc. You "failed". I just hate those terms and that kind of c-section. It just makes me sad.

However, when there's an emergency, or breech baby, or other issues that directly link to the mother or baby's health- they don't make me so sad. A section is a good thing in those cases. (Maybe not desirable. I mean, I don't know many moms going in to have a natural childbirth who WANT to end up in a c-section.) I'm not even saying that in the first scenario, that it wouldn't have been necessary or that I think its wrong. It just has a different "feel" to it for me. Because its similar to what I went through, it makes me feel bad.

That's where I have to remember to support and not save. Its not my job to save. I'm just there to hold her hand...