Moab

For UEA, the Trapnell family (everyone but Russ/Julie and Brian/Susan) took a trip to Moab. Jeff had already planned to be out of town that weekend (reliving the glory days with his 259 buddies), so he wasn't going to be able to make it. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of going by myself with the kids, but when my friend, April, who lives in Colorado, said she would drive over with her three kids and meet us, the trip was instantly appealing to me.

We have been friends with the Ferguson's for a long time. Jeff and Dave were in dental school together in Ohio, so we met shortly after our first babies were born. After four years of friendship, we both ended up in Jacksonville, living around the corner from each other. Two years later, when Jeff finished ortho and we moved away, saying good-bye to April was the hardest good-bye of all. We were so sad that our kids weren't going to be able to grow up together anymore, but I was especially sad to lose the closeness we had taken for granted for six years.

So, a year later, when the Ferguson's moved to Colorado (with Dave working part of the time in Kansas City, MO, leaving April home alone a lot), we knew we had to get together. The trip to Moab was the perfect excuse, and April willingly made the 6 hour drive with her three boys to be there with us. And I am so glad she did.

We had the BEST time, and it didn't take the kids long to reconnect. Even the craziness of being outnumbered 3 to 1 wasn't enough to dampen our spirits at all. The days went way too fast, and now we are missing the Ferguson's even more!

The six kids (Ethan, Allie, Kyla, Mason, Damon and Isaac) at Arches. Too bad we forced them to look into the sun.

April and me (with Mason on her shoulders).

Mason and Kyla. These two got along very well for not knowing each other. Maybe a future match? Allie has her choice of Isaac or Ethan.

A Jacksonville reunion with Greg and Noel's family. Because two of Jeff's brothers were going to JU, April knows the whole family, and is practically family, too.

The kids taking a quick shower after a night of swimming at the "mo-tail."

Sad to say, there was a little of this. Allie had to hike more than she liked.

Kyla enjoying the sand dunes.

Damon's climbing skills

Cute one of Allie, Kyla and Ethan (with cousin Aubrie looking on)

And proof that I was there, too. Please no commens about my tree trunk legs.

Let's do it again!

Picture/Update Overload

I hired Jeff to take pictures of the kids this year. I opted out of school pictures, and put all my faith in my husband, who in no way claims to be a "child photographer." I even got my sister, Tara, to bring her kids along for the fun. We were both really happy with the way the pictures turned out. These are some of my favorite shots of the kids.


Tara's idea to take one of them together from behind. Damon is a little stiff, but still cute.

The best of the three of them together. Kyla looks like she is just about to answer the call, "Will the real Slim Shady please stand up."

Love this one.

Sort of what I had in mind when I went searching all over for the lollipops. At least Damon's expression is what I was going for. Tara's kids got some great lollipop shots, so it was worth it.

DAMON:
At seven years old, Damon is in some ways the boy he has always been. He has the most tender heart, and has to remind himself that movies aren't real and will end happy. He is really into the Magic Treehouse books right now, and will read one in about 40 minutes. He thrives on having a schedule and sticking to it. He needs to know what we're going to do and what, exactly, to expect from any situation he is going to be in.

He is still a major collector, and I am constantly trying to talk him out of bringing things home. He is also the only reason I need to check pockets when doing laundry. He is notorious for stuffing things in his pants that he might need later, and then forgetting all about them. I had to spend the afternoon scraping an entire package of gum off the inside of the dryer when I forgot to check his pockets. He is super competitive and really wants to be the best at everything. He worked really hard at soccer this year, never wanting to come off the field. He may not have the most talent, but he has the determination to succeed at whatever it is he chooses to do.


His favorite color is yellow, which I think says a lot about him. He is a very happy kid (as long as he knows what to expect) and loves life. He loves hiking, fishing, riding his bike, leading the neighborhood kids in all kinds of activities, and anything we do together as a family. He really is so much fun to be around and has absolutely the best laugh I have ever heard.

ALLIE:
At four years old, Allie is starting to outgrow SOME of the drama she loved so much as a two and three year old. She is exceptional at entertaining herself, which is really nice for me in the afternoons when Kyla is still napping. She loves anything girlie, and we often remark that she was born into the wrong family for that. She reluctantly accompanies us on all sorts of adventures, but is becoming less lazy all the time. She still is a master manipulator, although Kyla seems to be catching on, and won't do nearly as much as she used to do for Allie.

She is working hard learning to read and write and I can see that it has finally clicked in her head. She is always wanting to cut and write and asking how to spell words, and I am so glad she has decided to be literate. She can still throw a fit with the best of them, but overall, she is a much happier girl than she was even a year ago. She likes to have things her way, but is learning to be more flexible and easy going.

KYLA:

At two years old, this little girl is one of my absolute favorite people. She is super happy and loves life. She is extremely well coordinated and has no problem riding a tricycle or a scooter. She is also very adventurous and happily goes along with anything we have going. She is, however, two and acts like it. She wants to do things for herself and her independence gets her into trouble all the time. But usually, she is instantly remorseful and timeouts work very well with her.

She still loves taking naps, but doesn't love bedtime, and is usually the first one up in the morning. She loves songs, books, games, puzzles and anything she can participate in.

I love being a mom to three very different kids, and I learn so much from each one of them. I can't wait to see what Baby Boy brings to our family dynamic, and hope he is as much fun as the other three.

Just KyKy and Me

A couple of weeks ago, Jeff took Allie fishing on a Friday when Damon was in school. I drove up to Gardner Village and met up with some friends (an Ohio reunion of sorts) with Kyla. She and I had so much fun together. She was in an extremely happy mood and wanted to pose with all the witches (and I mean ALL the witches). Here is my favorite shot.

And you can see how happy and smiley she was.

Here are the two of us. Don't mind my shirt trying to crawl up over my belly.

And one more of Kyla by herself.

I must say, Kyla is such a different little person than Allie is, even at two years old. Kyla is much more in control of her emotions and can easily go from being sad to being happy. She is so excited about everything in life (I took her grocery shopping, and everything I told her we needed to get, she cheered for. "Yay! Bananas! Yay! Bok Choy!"). She is always telling me, "That was too fun."

She loves animals, "chaskip (chapstick)," lotion and babies. She still loves taking an afternoon nap (she still has that binky) and is finally getting the hang of letters (she probably knows 15-20 of them). I found her in her room one afternoon after nap playing Ring around the Rosie with three Barbies. She loves to sing, and is crazy about just about any R&B song that comes on the radio (and insists I go back if I change the station). She loves music and is always saying, "Turn it up, please" in the car. Some of her favorite songs right now are Battlefield, I Gotta Feeling and Party in the USA.

She still loves to eat, but her appetite is not anything like it used to be. She is getting picky, but can (and will) eat anything if she is in the mood for dessert. She loves Allie with all her heart and wants to be just like her. Allie got some new undies and passed her old ones down to Kyla. Kyla, who is not potty training and will not be for some time, took her diaper off, put the undies on, and walked around for some time before she was discovered. She will poop and pee on the toilet whenever she is naked, and all she wants in return is a rock in the jar (we are trying to fill a jar with rocks for a family treat).

I still cannot get enough of this girl. I am so lucky to be her mom.

Magnetic Bathroom Principle

Remember way back when we talked about The Magnet Principle? Where I talked about how my kids and I must be equipped with some sort of magnetic device, because they are always following me around and having to touch me? I am beginning to put more of it together, and understanding it a little better.

It goes back to when I was a kid, and the times I desperately needed something from my mom. This was usually when I found her one of three places.

1. Kneeling by the side of her bed, praying (let's face it, she is a spiritual woman who spends a LOT of time praying).
2. On the telephone
3. Sitting on the toilet

When she was praying, there was no other option but to wait. When she was on the phone, we soon learned that we could write a note with our pressing questions, hand her a pencil, and get a quick answer to whatever it was we needed (for example: Mom, can I go play in the park? Yes or No, to which she would circle which ever option was most likely to get rid of us). And when she was sitting on the toilet, we could easily communicate with her through the door.

Now, I don't spend as much time praying or chatting on the phone as my mom did, but my kids have their magnetic beacons set to "FIND MOM" every time I try to slip away to the bathroom. I can barely close the door before someone is opening it, demanding my attention. The kids could be playing nicely or engrossed in a movie, but if they hear the bathroom door close, they suddenly need to be there, too. Usually, they have some immediate problem that needs solving, and only a face-to-face with mom will do. I have to answer questions like, "Can I have a snack?," "Where are my shoes?," and, if it's Kyla doing the asking, "Are you going poop?"

You'd think I'd take a hint and lock the door behind me, and believe me, I do. But I am still answering the same questions from the same children, only now they are irritated that they can't get in, and ask their questions in a whiney voice, while banging relentlessly on the door. I'm not sure that's much better.

One night a week or two ago, Jeff took all three kids on an errand so I could get dinner cleaned up. I took my sweet time, enjoying the peace and quiet I so rarely experience during the daylight hours, and then made my way upstairs to my bathroom with my phone (so I could check in on Facebook, of course). I'm not kidding you, within minutes, all three kids had returned home, looked all over for me, and joined me in there. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time, I wasn't the least bit surprised.

I wish I could say I don't understand what is so compelling about visiting with mom while she is sitting on the toilet. But then I think back to when I was a kid, and the many, many times I interrupted my own mother (who didn't have the luxury of taking Facebook to the bathroom with her), and I grudgingly admit that at one time, my own magnetic beacon sent me to the bathroom too. Only I'm sure the needs I had were much more pressing. Like, "Where is the cinnamon sugar for my toast?"

Squaw Peak

For the past few years, Jeff has taken an interest in photography and has dragged us around with him numerous times so he can take pictures. Mostly it is just a minor inconvenience, as we end up spending time waiting for him in the car when the kids have had enough scenery. Every now and then, though, it becomes much more than we bargained for.

Last night, Jeff really wanted to drive up to Squaw Peak and take pictures of the fall leaves with snow covered Timp in the background. Since it was family night, we all decided to tag along. In an effort to get there before the light was lost, we inhaled our dinner, grabbed coats, and headed out the door. I was completely unaware what we were going to actually be doing once we got there, but figured we would probably be alright since we had the kids heavy coats.

Allie fell asleep on the drive, which should have been the first warning sign that she was not going to have a fun time while we were there (she is hard to wake up and usually very upset when we get her awake). But, after parking on the side of the dirt road, we managed to coax her out of the car without too much complaint. Jeff carried Kyla (who was only wearing sandals) and took Damon ahead to scout out the perfect picture location while I encouraged Allie to walk on her own behind them. A little ways up the road, I realized this was going to be difficult. The road was extremely muddy from all the rain on Sunday, and Allie was wearing slip on shoes two sizes too big with no socks. She started to complain that her feet were getting stuck, and I noticed the mud was more like clay, and nearly impossible to rub off.

By this time, we had entirely lost sight of Jeff, Damon and Kyla, but followed the path they had taken, hoping we would catch up soon. We couldn't find them soon enough. Allie's sticky shoes kept coming off, and multiple times she stepped off into the mud. Her positive attitude had completely vanished and she was now crying, feet cold and muddy, with no end in sight. I tried to scrape the mud off, and was somewhat successful, and we managed to find the rest of the family ahead. I told them I didn't think we were going to make it, as the road was getting muddier the higher we climbed, but Jeff told us to just come to the top, because it was a beautiful view and he wanted to take our picture.

Somehow, we made it, but Allie completely lost it. Her shoes were now covered with mud, both inside and out, and her freezing feet were also muddy. Jeff positioned us all on a log and tried to get us to smile. But Allie wasn't going to do it. She was in complete meltdown mode, and was beginning to rub off on Kyla, who was also starting to complain about her own cold feet (to be fair, I know it was our fault that we were so completely unprepared for the trek we made through the mud, and Jeff and I were trying to be extra patient with them). No amount of bribery was going to get Allie to stop crying and at least pretend to smile for a picture. So, when I see this, I have to laugh. Enlarge it for the full effect.


After we made it back to our car (Jeff carried Allie and I carried Kyla back down), Jeff said, "this is a good story for your blog." Yes, it was something I will probably want to remember.

The Long Version

So, here's the story. Wednesday we go in for the ultrasound, everything is going well, we're excited we're having a boy. Then, the u/s tech says, "This isn't a huge deal, but I'm almost positive your cord only has two vessels instead of three, so I'm going to schedule an appointment with the perinatologist at the hospital."

My heart sank. I instantly remembered that after we lost Chance, the doctor told me that the only unusual finding with my placenta and cord was that the cord only had two vessels. At the time, he said it was not the reason that my water broke so early, it was just a coincidence. I informed the u/s tech about this coincidence, and she agreed, it should have had nothing to do with my water breaking. "Still, it doesn't make you feel good, does it?" She proceeded to call and schedule the appointment for me while my mind jumped ahead a few miles, trying to imagine what this meant for us, for this new little boy inside me. After hanging up and informing me about the appointment, she said, "Try not to worry. Most babies that have a two vessel cord turn out fine."

I nodded my head, blinking back tears, knowing that telling me to try not to worry was like telling Allie to try not to fall asleep on our bi-weekly drives to Mapleton for Damon's soccer games (it just doesn't happen). She must have seen the look on my face, because she tried to reassure me, explaining that we were only slightly higher risk for health problems (kidney and heart specifically), and that the perinatologist would want to make sure baby boy was growing alright. Dutifully, I continued to nod my head, quite certain that this was the "something wrong" I had been sensing.

Still, for the rest of the day, I tried to talk myself out of being worried. After doing some research, and finding out that 80% of babies with a two vessel cord are perfectly normal, I felt a little better. I tried to remind myself--AGAIN--that this is something completely out of my control and that--AGAIN--I need to have more faith that the Lord knows what's best for me and my family and everything will turn out fine.

For the most part, I started to believe it. But every now and then, doubt would creep back in, and before long, I was stressing big time. Thursday morning it finally bubbled up, and I had a good cry alone in the bathroom. Man, I needed that; I needed that time to let all the negativity go, and the only way that was going to happen is if I really let myself feel bad for a few minutes. It didn't last long, and sweet little Kyla found me and snapped me back to reality. I felt like I could actually let go, instead of just talking about it. I was ready to give in to the will of the Lord, whatever that might be.

Friday, I was surprisingly calm when we went in for u/s #2. And this one went extremely well. I only had to remind myself to stop clenching my entire body and breathe twice. The doctor spent a lot of time looking at baby's heart, something the u/s tech hadn't been able to see very well on Wednesday. Everything looked good. He has two kidneys, his heart has four chambers, and he is still a he. He is also growing right on schedule. What a huge relief and weight lifted off my shoulders.

It doesn't mean we are in the clear yet. We will be monitored closely to make sure he continues to grow and I am acutally going to do the MSAFP test to tell us whether or not he potentially has Down Syndrome. But I feel okay about everything. Even if something turns out to be wrong, and we fall into the 20%, it will be okay. I know the Lord will take care of us, and I promised Him in one of my many, many prayers this week, that I will love this little boy just as I do my other three, no matter what. I was reading in Mosiah 4:9 yesterday (one of my favorites), and feeling like it was written just for me. I know the Lord has all power, and can fix any problems we have. But I also know he has all wisdom and I have to trust that His perspective is so much greater than my own.

So, for now, I am at peace. I am relieved that everything looks good so far, and am hopeful that it will continue this way. But if not...I'll accept it.

Post 301

Yep, my last post was #300 on this blog. Momentous occasion, so please observe a moment of silence...moment over.

I have an entirely different post currently rattling around in my brain, but it's going to have to wait until after tomorrow, and ultrasound #2. Which means, for those of you who are not my Facebook friends (and you should be!), we found out yesterday the sex of our baby. And to make it fun for Damon, we tied balloons to the mailbox.



Yep, we're having a boy! I can hardly believe it (I was completely ready to find out it was girl #3), but we are super excited. His umbilical cord only has 2 vessels instead of 3, so we are having a second ultrasound tomorrow to check for any potential problems. So, more (a lot more, I am sure) on that tomorrow after the ultrasound.

This is a cute picture I took of the kids the other day. They were posing in the street and Allie hopped on Damon's back.


And finally, Allie has been cracking us up lately. One day, I heard her singing "I Gotta Feeling," and it went something like this, "I gotta feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night. And tomorrow's gonna be a good night. And after tomorrow's gonna be a good night. And after after tomorrow's gonna be a good night..."

My personal favorite. "Mom, I know dad's car is a boy, because it has a mustache."

Overdue post

I don't know why I haven't posted in a while. I guess I have just been in a blogging funk and haven't felt like sitting down and writing. "My bad!," as my mom would say.

I was a single mom for two weeks, that was a lot of fun. Jeff and his brothers took a trip down the Colorado River for 10 days (the trip of a lifetime, as the wives were told). He was home for 12 hours before he hopped on a plane and flew to Dallas for the BYU/Oklahoma game. Rough life, huh? I took the kids to St. George for Labor Day weekend, and an Esplin Family reunion, so by the time we were reunited, it had been two weeks since we had seen him for more than a couple of hours. Kyla had pink eye while he was gone, and I was waiting it out, hoping I wouldn't have to take her to the doctor for an antibiotic, and I probably waited too long. Again, "my bad!" Jeff's brother sent him a text from our boys' soccer game while Jeff was in Texas that said, "Damon scored a goal, KyKy has conjunctivitis, and your wife is wearing tight shorts. You're missing all the fun!" Only two of those things were true (at least, I don't think my shorts were tight), but Jeff said it really made him miss his family. It's good to have him home. Although I did get to watch a lot of Lois and Clark on Hulu (what a great show).

I'm 18 weeks pregnant now and not hiding it well at all. Although people are nice, and tell me that I am tiny, Jeff and I both know the truth. It doesn't bother me, though. I'm just so happy not to be puking anymore that I'll take an expanding belly as a trade. Allie has suddenly been very involved in the pregnancy (or at least acknowledging it on a daily basis). She told me the other day, as I was cutting an avocado, that it reminded her of a mom with a baby inside.

Another day, she was in the bathroom as I was getting dressed, and she asked me, "Do you have those same ones for all your babies?"

Confused, I asked, "The same what?"

"The same breasts," she clarified. Obviously she has noticed that my "new" set are looking a little different.

For the most part, I feel really good. I haven't been too anxious at all about this pregnancy, but just feeling like everything is going to be fine. Then a week before I went to St. George, my mom called and told me that my cousin's wife was 20 weeks pregnant with her fourth boy when they couldn't find his heartbeat on the ultrasound. It was confirmed that he had passed away, and she had to deliver a stillborn baby boy. For some reason, this really affected me. I'm not close to this cousin and his wife, but I felt an instant connection with her, and I couldn't help but relive my own experience with a stillborn baby boy. Since then, I have had TONS of anxiety, ranging from something is wrong with the baby to something is wrong with me. Last week I was having a lot of lower back pain, and I was in complete panic mode, sure I was having preterm labor. I tried to calm myself down, listing to myself all the reasons that was absurd, like, I have never had preterm labor with any of my babies, so why should I now? Still, though, it took me several hours to get my brain to believe it.

It all comes back to the lesson I have to keep relearning: no matter what I do, I have no control over what happens with this baby. If he/she is going to have physical or mental disabilities, worrying about it isn't going to change that. If he/she is going to suddenly stop growing, I can't change that either. All I can do is put my trust in the Lord and believe that He knows what is best for me and my family, and let the rest itself out. But, why oh why is that such a hard lesson to learn?

The past few days I have felt better (mentally. My back still hurts.). I feel more willing to give up control and to work on the things I CAN do (like being a better mom to the three kids I do have). I've been listening to "More Holiness give Me" from The Missionary Hymn Project, and was struck really for the first time at just how beautiful the words are. Listen to it sometime if you're feeling overwhelmed. It helped me to realize that I don't have to be perfect right now. I don't have to do everything. I just need to do a little more. Be a little better (like President Hinckley used to always say). Be a little more like my Savior. And so those are the things I have been asking for lately. I defintely need all the help I can get.

Okay. Maybe now you're wishing that I was still on my blogging hiatus after all that. I know posts are boring without any pictures, so here is one from Damon's first day of school. Hopefully, he will fill that doorway (or a lot more of it) by the time he is standing there for his senior year of high school. He is doing great at school, and has four friends (boys, yay!) that he plays with at recess. I focus on that, and not the fact that they play with all the third grade girls, in some kind of competition for the slide. Some kids were made for public school, and Damon is one of them.

Daily smiles

A few things that made me smile today:

1. While cleaning Damon's room, I couldn't help but photograph this collection he has going on his dresser. We have called him Hector (as in The Collector) for a while now, and I am never surprised by the things he thinks he needs to save. For example: why does he need the knife card from Clue? Or the umbrella from Littlest Pet Shop?


2. Tiny bites out of giant zucchini. And not just one bite, but two. I'm pretty sure this was Kyla.


3. Allie enjoying US Weekly on the couch. This was the first of two times I found her like this.

Funnies

And a couple of things that make me laugh.

Allie was found in Damon's closet, sneaking his paints and painting. Jeff found her, as well as a few stains on the carpet, and called me in to investigate. He was in "protective of the new house" mode, and was trying to stay calm. I asked Allie what in the world she was doing, and she said, near tears, "I....could not....resist." I chuckled despite myself, because I was not expecting.

Kyla has been making me smile with her mispronounciations lately. She called pepperoni "peckeroni" and Lucky Charms "Chucky Charms." I don't know why, but I can still laugh about those anytime.

Finally, Allie has been doing much better with her fears, for the most part. However, one day she informed me that she was out in the garage when she saw a shadow that scared her. She then told me what she was doing in the garage. "I was milking the bikes, pretending they were cows." I think that one will be a classic for years to come.

Bathing

I have already divulged how I have skimped on my own bathing habits lately, but I have failed to mention that the lack of bathing seems to have trickled down to my children as well. I realize this is entirely my fault, as bath time has always been one of my least favorite activities.

I wasn't always so lax about cleanliness. When Damon was a baby, he had a bath every day, regardless if we were out late or not at night. I realize now that I probably contributed in large part to the eczema he had as a baby, thus requiring special creams and lotions (if only he could've gotten them for free like the wrestlers in Nacho Libre:). I hated doing baths every night, but figured it best to keep up the routine so he would continue to sleep through the night. But with Allie, I eased up a lot. Mostly because it no longer seemed SO important that my child be bathed daily. And with Kyla, she still seems to have turned out alright (meaning: she has never contracted lice) and doesn't smell bad enough to be labeled one of the "stinky kids," so I must conclude that although she wasn't bathed daily, she probably was bathed enough.

I wonder if that is still the case. Since we moved into this new house, we have tried to be consistent about a few things. One of which is that the kids no longer all bathe together. We tried this a time or two (at Damon's request), but Kyla likes to play "yank the interesting body part" under the water, which instantly told us it was no longer a good idea to co-bathe. Damon can either take a bath by himself or take a shower, and he will do so every few days. Or when I tell him that I can smell him from across the room.

The girls, while still allowed to bathe together, mostly create huge floods when left alone for even a few seconds (typical, I know, but still very annoying). And so they are constantly grounded from the tub and forced to shower as well. But since they aren't asking for a shower (it's not nearly as much fun as the "slide" the tub creates), I again must instigate proper hygiene by insisting that they rinse at least the top layer of dirt off their feet and wash the rats nests out of their hair. The other night, I told Allie that her feet were filthy, and she proceeded to show me all the places on her foot that were still clean (the arches that never touch the ground). Apparently she hasn't developed a love of hygiene yet, either.

All of this questionable bathing behavior has had to change lately for one member of our family. Kyla can't seem to keep herself clean for more than 30 minutes at a time. She has developed traits you would expect any two-year old learning independence to develop, most of which involve helping herself to anything she can mix with water and put in her hair. Soap and gel are two of her favorites, but anything liquid within three feet of her grasp are likely candidates as well. She also likes to pour sand on her head. Connect those dots and you will realize that Kyla has forced my hand, and is now being showered almost daily. I mean, if your child walked into the bathroom looking like this, you would find it hard to convince yourself that she could wait one more day to wash her hair.


The irony of this is I had already gotten her dressed and her hair combed for the day (a rarity in the mornings as of late) before she found the "orange glue" (hair gel). Maybe she is doing her part, in her own small way, to make sure she doesn't become one of the "stinky kids."

First Trimester

I thought it would be best to write about this pregnancy on a day that I was feeling pretty good. That way I would have a much better chance of being impartial and less of a whiner. And today I am feeling pretty good. Halle-freakin-lujah.

I realize that what I have to go through when I am pregnant is so small compared to what so many others have to suffer through. The feelings of wanting to curl into a ball and die only last for three months, and then I have relatively few complaints. I have so much respect and admiration for ladies who suffer through months of agony, not having any relief at the end of the first trimester.

That being said, I am so glad this part is (or seems to be) over. It really is hard on the whole family. A few weeks ago, Jeff told the kids, "Your mom is good for nothing right now." Ouch, but unfortunately, probably all too true. I am certainly not myself.

Things that have suffered the past 15 weeks: the house (my energy for cleaning has diminished tremendously, and although I have done my best, it's obvious it wasn't enough), my hygiene (I just can't bring myself to shower every day. There's something about the hot water that makes me feel a lot worse, so many days I have settled for clean clothes, deodorant, and a ponytail), and mealtimes (food in general is so hard for me to be around during the first trimester, but especially raw meat. I'm not exactly sure how we made it through all those dinner times without spending a fortune on takeout).

My sickness has been mostly at night this time, which has its pros and cons. On the good side, I had my best hours in the morning, and I would try to get things done before Jeff got home. But on the bad side, I always felt terrible at night, and did 95% of my throwing up after 7:00 pm. I'm not sure I can eat apples and grapes for a while, they being the two most disgusting things I can recall having to see a second time.

Some foods I have had to avoid: wheat bread (for some reason, I couldn't do it), water (this was a strange aversion for a few weeks that has luckily subsided), anything I made for dinner and had to smell longer than 30 minutes, everything at random, depending on the day, the hour, etc.

Some foods that I have been craving: turkey sandwiches on white bread (I have had at least one, maybe two of these a day for weeks), orange juice (during my waterless phase), pickles, salty things like Chex mix and chips, homemade egg McMuffins (and I don't like eggs, but I had one of these a day for a couple weeks, too), Arby's curly fries (until I threw them up. Not anymore), dry cereal (frosted mini wheats), and tomatoes. Does that mean I'm having a boy or girl?

I also have been a lot more tired than normal (no surprise there), but napping usually makes the nausea worse, so I have refrained unless I couldn't help it. Most days have been just about survival--making it to the time I can get in bed. Like a lot of women, I started taking unisom and B6 at night, and I really think that helped me (at least I felt a lot better in the mornings. Nights were always hard). I would have an hour or two in the morning where I actually felt a little bit normal, until the nausea would settle in and remind me that I was far from normal.

I didn't gain any weight the first 12 weeks (one good thing about being sick), but I am definitely starting to show now, and starting to avoid certain clothes. I haven't been flat out asked if I am pregnant yet at church, but I'm sure there is suspicion. That is, if anyone even knows who I am. But I welcome getting chubby and letting people know, it just means that the worst is behind me and I can now look forward to a few months of endless eating and weight gain with no guilt. I'll just have to work it off eventually anyway.

And finally, because this post has been incredibly boring, here are some pictures from the park last week. I love Allie's outfit in this one--swimsuit, half jacket/shawl, shorts and Sunday shoes. This was a new combo I hadn't seen before.


I thought this spot by the pond was pretty and had the kids pose for a few shots. We'll have to go back with Jeff's good camera (and his photo skills) to take some real pictures.

Nine years

Yesterday Jeff and I celebrated our ninth anniversary. Well, "celebrated" is too strong of a word. We are planning to go out on an actual dinner/movie date on Saturday to "celebrate." Yesterday we mentioned to each other that we had been married nine years, and reminisced for a few minutes before my sleeping pill kicked in and I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.

But we have been married nine years. We both agreed that it has sped by with alarming speed. Neither of us feel old enough to say that we have been married just shy of a decade. But then I remember that a few months ago, my sister who is just starting high school admitted that she had never heard of Third Eye Blind. We must be getting old. So, when I stop to think about all that has happened the past nine years, I am amazed to realize that we have already shared a lifetime of experiences.

Consider just some of the things we have experienced since August 19, 2000.

Survived four winters in Ohio.
Survived two summers in Florida.
Survived two different stints living with Jeff's parents, each one approximately a year long

Celebrated a national championship for THE Ohio State Buckeyes
Celebrated a World Series win for my Boston Red Sox

Suffered through four (now make it five) awful first trimesters
Suffered through the birth of three healthy babies
Suffered through the death of one tiny baby boy
Suffered through an ectopic pregnancy

Managed to survive one awful jaw surgery (Jeff's)
Managed to survive a scare involving a needle stick and Hep-C (Jeff)
Managed to survive a diagnosis of mitral valve prolapse (irregular heartbeat--again, Jeff)
Managed to survive a number of shock treatments to determine another diagnosis of myasthenia gravis (a condition that causes fatigue in muscles--again, also Jeff).

Graduated from BYU with a BS in Geography (J)
Graduated from BYU with a BS in Elementary Ed (K)
Graduated from dental school at Ohio State
Graduated from orthodontics at JU

Visited the following states: Wyoming, Colorado, California, Nevada, Arizona, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, West Virginia, Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts, Delaware, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, North Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia (may be forgetting something, but close enough)

Bought our first "home" (an 880 sq ft condo in Columbus)
Bought our last home (a much larger home in Orem)

Endured many long nights and early mornings with babies
Endured many long nights and early mornings studying

Shared hundreds of tears (most shed by me)
Shared thousands of laughs
Shared our lives

When you look at it like that, we really have been through a lot together. If these nine years have taught me anything (and I like to think that they have), I know that we can get through anything. As long as we do it together (okay, a little sappy, but it HAS been nine years!).

Happy anniversary Jeff! I look forward to a lifetime of memories yet to come!

From the "What have you been up to?" file

I have been a bad blogger. Mostly because how do you write about everything EXCEPT the one thing that is really on your mind (that post, about the first trimester, will come later)? But we have actually done some fun things lately and I was amazed when I looked at the camera to find that we had actually documented some of them.

A couple of weeks ago, we went to Antelope Island/The Great Salt Lake. We had been there before, but wanted to actually test the assumption that you can float unassisted in the Salt Lake (you can, but I don't know why you'd want to. It smells terrible and is extremely disgusting. But the kids all had a chance to float and we came home with enough salt on our bodies to season our roasts for a year). Antelope Island is an interesting place, and we enjoyed seeing all the wildlife (namely, one antelope and dozens of bison). Damon (wearing goggles in this picture, because he still thought he might actually submerge his head in the GSL to see what was there. Not happening) posed in front of this bison after eating a buffalo burger at the concession stand. Kyla was trapped inside the car, but yelled out, "Come here, buffalo! We have some candy for you!"

It was a fun trip, but we got no pictures of our actual swimming adventure. Take my word for it, though, you may POSSIBLY want to go once in your lifetime, to say you have done it, but I doubt we will ever be back. Sorry future offspring, no floating in the GSL for you.

Allie also finished her summer stint at BYU's preschool. She had a great time and I am so glad we did that for her. Now I know exactly what things we need to work on before kindergarten next year (holding a crayon and a pair of scissors come to mind).

This is Mr. Brad, the head teacher in Allie's class.

Some funny disguises the girls wanted to show off.

Allie, so happy to be able to take her nametag home.

Jeff got a new desk for his office, which came in several big boxes. Damon had big plans for the boxes, and Jeff helped him put together this awesome "fort" in our basement. We bought some paints at the store and let the kids paint it one morning.

Kyla got as much paint on her face as she got on the fort.

We also went camping with Jeff's sister and her family one weekend. It happened to be the coldest weekend we had had in weeks, and we were all freezing most of the time.

Jeff and the girls trying to warm up. They are in a hammock, in a sleeping bag, listening to music on Jeff's phone.

All the kids: Damon and David with their sharpened sticks (a must for camping. And Lord of the Flies), Caitlin doing bunny ears (another popular pose), Kyla, Allie, Maren and Hunter squished together. Probably for warmth.

Kyla had a great time. When she wasn't complaining of being "coldy."

Jeff and I had our own reading material. I thought it was funny--he was reading a history of the Grand Canyon and I was rereading Harry Potter #6 so we can go see the movie.

Our scrum-diddly-umptious dinner that Ryan made for us. Seriously, it was so yummy. My mouth is watering now just thinking about it.

I don't know why this picture is sideways. It wasn't this way before I started, and I don't feel like changing it now. These are the "three burritos" in the tent. It was dark and I couldn't see what I was doing, so we had several attempts to get them all in the screen. Allie's face scares me. And Kyla does look "coldy."

Okay, phew. It feels good to have that done. More later?

A good one

There are some moments in life you could never, ever possibly forget. Even if the rest of your memory had been wiped clean, some things just would always be with you. Like the day you got engaged. Or married. Or the day your mom told you she had cancer. Or the time you drove the car into the kitchen. Some things just have a tendency to stay with you.

I'll never forget the first time we saw Damon, via ultrasound. I was in for my 20 week appointment and witnessed, for the very first time, the miracle that was developing inside me. I got tears in my eyes when he yawned, so big he looked like a lion, right there on the screen. I couldn't believe it was real, and that in just a few short months I was going to become a mother for the very first time. the feelings were vast and numerous, but mostly I felt grateful to have been entrusted with such an honor.

Three pregnancies later, I have since had dozens of ultrasounds after that very first emotional one with Damon. Each time, I have been equally awed and amazed at the miracle of life when I see my babies on the screen. There's just nothing like it. And you'd think I would get used to seeing it and it would somehow lose its wonder. That has yet to happen.

Last Thursday I got to see another little one via ultrasound. After hiding my pregnancy from everyone for nearly 12 weeks, I was extremely anxious to have the opportunity to confirm that the extreme nausea, tiredness, mood swings and bulging waistline were not all in my head, but could be attributed to a healthy, albeit small, baby. It was with more than a little trepidation that I climbed on the table and pulled up my shirt. But as soon as Courtney (my ultrasound tech) put the wand on my belly, I could see our latest miracle. And its heart was racing.

At 12 weeks, there isn't a lot you tell from the ultrasound, other than the heart rate and the size of the baby (170 beats/minute, and 2 inches from head to rump), but for me, it was more than enough. I couldn't help but get emotional as I saw a tiny arm move above the baby's head, and let the tears slide down my cheeks unashamed. It never gets old seeing your baby for the first time. After Courtney finished the ultrasound, she printed off a few customary pictures for me to take to Jeff, and stuck them in my chart. She examined it for a moment, then asked, "was your last pregnancy an ectopic?" I answered in the affirmative, and she said, "Then you were probably really glad to see that everything is fine." Understatement of the year.

If everything goes as planned (alwasy an IF), my due date is Valentine's Day, which means I am now 13 weeks, and HOPEFULLY nearing the end of all the yuckiness that is first trimester. We told our families last week, and news has started spreading among friends in the ward and elsewhere. Ideally, I would try to keep it a secret as long as possible, but I didn't want to keep it a secret any longer. So many of you have been with me through all the ups and downs of pregnancy, and I wanted you to share in this happiness with us. I love you all!