Who moved my Wheeze?

Or should I say, who completely replaced my little tiny Wheezy Baby with this chubby child? At her 6 week appointment today, she weighed in at a whopping 12 pounds! I think it took her big sister a good few months to gain that much weight. In fact, Eloise is wearing clothes that Tilly wore at 5 months! But we have no complaints. We love her roley poley thighs and her Michelin Man arms. She's a great eater (obviously) and sleeper (7 1/2 hours last night!) and is sweet as can be. She's begun to smile and chirp and is becoming quite the little conversationalist. The only difficulty is becoming what to call her. Chace has vetoed my preferred nicknames for her, Wheezy and Piglet (she really is such a snorty little critter), because he says I'll give her a complex. (Hogwash! I grew up being called Fatso, Stinky and Dirty Bird, and look how I turned out!) We sometimes call her Elsie, Lulu, or Lou, but nothing has really stuck. Any suggestions?

Dear Santa:

All I want for Christmas is a spot in this band. I know, I know. It's kind of a lot to ask, but just hear me out. I really think my harmonica skills would be a significant contribution.

Well, at least think about it, okay Santa? And if you can't swing it, I'd settle for this:

Love,

Rivka

Eloise Margaret Wilcoxson

24 October 2011

2:39 am

7 pounds, 11 ounces

21 inches tall

In a nutshell: When I fell asleep Sunday night, I was pregnant. When I woke up Monday morning, I wasn't.

*Men, feel free to stop reading here and wait for Chace's manly version to satisfy your manly curiosity. Women who've asked for details, proceed with caution.

Several weeks ago, I started feeling really unsettled about our arrangements for the birth of this baby. We had planned to have her with the same midwives and at the same hospital as Matilda, where we had received wonderful care and had a great experience. But as the due date approached, I felt more and more uneasy. I felt like we should have this babe at home. So we contacted the one home-birth midwife covered by our insurance. She was booked solid for the entire week of my due date. No go. But another midwife gave me the name of her back-up doctor who also attends home births, saying he lived quite a distance away, but it was worth a try. Sure enough, he was covered by our insurance as well and was willing to take me on, even at eight and a half months pregnant and over an hour's drive away. Plus, he was (is) awesome. We were all set and I felt at peace for the first time in weeks.

So when I went to bed Sunday night (after watching this with Chace's parents--so good!), I anticipated a glorious night of sleep after a long week of yard work behind me and a long week of house projects ahead. But I was restless. And there was a wonderful thunder and lightening storm going on outside. It must have been midnight before I fell asleep.

I woke up with a jolt a little after 1am. Ouch! That one hurt! Maybe it's time. I tip-toed to the bathroom to wait it out for a while and let Chace sleep as long as possible. He was in for a long week too, after all. When I was pretty sure that I was indeed in labor, I went downstairs for some vittles to get my energy up for whatever lay ahead. I grabbed a few bites of cottage cheese and filled my "sippy cup" (the big Medline cup I got from the hospital when I had Matilda that I use ALL THE TIME, and the main reason I wanted to have another baby there! You can't have too many free sippy cups, says I. But maybe there's an easier way to get them than having a baby? Any of you, Gentle Readers, work for Medline? Or know someone who does? Or know a nurse or doctor who can hook me up? But I digress...) I found that laboring while standing in front of my open fridge trying to decide which leftovers to reheat was not very comfortable. So I grabbed a pear and went back upstairs. After a few more minutes in the bathroom, I decided I'd better wake up Chace.

I nudged him and said, a little giddy, "Honey, we're in business!"

Confused and annoyed, and still half asleep he mumbled, "What? Business?... What business?...

What are you talking about?"

"Sweetheart, I'm in labor. We're having a baby tonight."

That woke him up.

I set him to gathering some supplies from the doctor's list while I hopped in the tub and got in my groove. Things were heating up faster than I had anticipated. I should have thought to have Chace time my contractions sooner, but in my concentration I think waited a little too long. Time doesn't really make sense during labor. Each contraction seems like an eternity and a half and you're just sort of hanging on for dear life. And then it's gone and you bask in the release and relish the silence, breathe, pray, prepare for the next one, take a bite of pear--and boy, was that a tasty pear. By the time I called Chace in and asked him to watch the clock for a bit, the contractions were about a minute and a half apart.

He called Dr. White right away and while he gave him directions ("Yes, that's Wesmere Lakes... not Westmere... No, no "t"... W-E-S-M... yes, fourth house in...") and as I cursed the stupid name of our street, my contractions changed and, all at once, I was pushing. I've heard that some women don't experience a distinct urge to push, while others feel an undeniable, irrepressible, uncontrollable, indescribable, unbelievably overwhelming one. I definitely fall into the latter category.

"He's not going to make it," I pant from the tub. "Just tell him to get here as soon as he can." I could feel her hard little head just inches away from birth. All I could do was breathe, pray, and fight that extraordinary impulse to actively work to push with the contraction, not because I was trying to wait for the doctor--not a chance--I just wanted to slow her down and give myself a little time to stretch. And boy, oh boy. People talk about transition. They talk about the "ring of fire." That's nothing! Try NOT pushing with a pushing contraction! For me, at least, that was the hardest part (both times!)

Chace continued to bustle around, gathering supplies. I told him that if his parents wanted to see this baby born, he'd better go get them. It wouldn't be long now. He disappeared and came back with his mom. She came and sat by the edge of the tub, patting my leg during the next contraction. When it passed she asked "Are you in a lot of pain?" I remember that that seemed like the weirdest question she could ask at the time. I didn't know quite how to answer her. I said something like, "Well, I'm between contractions. So no, not at the moment. But just give me another minute and I will be!" And then I thought, what an amazing process, this birth business. How crazy and awesome to be able to feel my body working completely independent of my will to expel this little tiny human. How strange to feel such agony in one moment and such relief and exhilaration the next. I was struck with how surreal the whole experience was--sitting in a bathtub in the dark with my mother-in-law and my husband, in the middle of the night, having a baby!--and how strange that I felt absolutely no fear, no panic. For one of the few times in my entire life, I felt like I was made for this, like I knew exactly what I was doing, and that I was the only one who could do it. It was a sweet gift of peace at a time that could otherwise have been a little frightening (and, I later discovered, was a little frightening for others of the party!)

I remember saying something to Michele like, "Paul can come in if he wants," and her saying something like, "Oh... he's okay." So when the time came that I couldn't hold her back any longer (yes, I was literally holding her in for a minute there), I finally gave in to the urge and pushed out a fuzzy little purple-gray head, followed shortly by a slippery little purple-gray body. Chace lifted her out of the water and handed her to me. She was quiet for a few seconds as I toweled her off before she gargled, coughed and cried, promptly turning nice and pink. I held her low on my abdomen to facilitate easy flow of all that good stuff from the cord and we snuggled like that for a couple of minutes until she'd gotten from it all she was going to get. Then we got all wrapped up and she began to nurse. Paul had come in sometime after hearing his new granddaughter cry, and we all sat around my bathroom looking at each other like, "Well... that was crazy! Now what!?"

After a few minutes, Paul and Michele went back to bed while Chace and I waited up for the doctor, who arrived an hour after Eloise was born. While he took the baby to check her out and weigh her, I took the most heavenly shower of my life. Then I sat and nursed Eloise again while Chace kindly rubbed my legs to ease those post-labor contractions--yowzers! Killer. Then the doc gave me a few instructions before taking off to another birth! Paul and Michele, too excited to sleep, got up again and made scrambled eggs for everyone. We all sat in the loft and talked a while, ogling at our sweet new bundle and eating our eggs. Then the yawns began and we all said goodnight, again, just as the first light was beginning to creep through the blinds.

*****

My little Weeze has followed her sister's example thus far by being a very nice baby. She's a champion eater and napper. She likes the shower. She has a pitiful, kitten-like mew of a cry and a sweet, pensive disposition. She has one soft, fuzzy noggin, one crooked little snout (almost straightened out) and, at present, two blue eyes (though one is bound sooner or later to be poked out by Big Sis--there have been several failed attempts!) It's been a fun challenge these past three weeks to figure out how to foster closeness between these girls and keep Eloise alive. Matilda is very affectionate... dangerously so. At first I tried to keep Eloise out of Matilda's reach, only letting her see/touch her under close supervision. Lately I've changed my strategy, putting Eloise where Tilly can see her and interact with her more, and letting her hold her whenever she wants, even if it's not convenient. I don't want to create a sense of separation. I want these girls to be inseparable pals. (Mothering advice on this subject welcome in the "comments" section!)

Motherhood feels a lot more full-time these days. I still try to get a nap in when the little women are both asleep, but that's iffy. And between laundry and diaper changes and feedings and baths, and then cleaning up from feedings and baths, I can pretty much forget about doing much else during the day. I feel like a superstar if I get a little make-up on, a few groceries bought and dinner on the table at a decent hour (meaning before about 10pm). It's work, folks. But I sure like my work. And I sure have a new appreciation for other moms, like mine for example, who did this TEN TIMES!?!? And I sure have a new and deeper love for my sweet husband who gives me early morning back rubs after long nights in twisted, trying-to-sleep-while-nursing-without-squashing-this-child positions. And I sure have a new respect for time and how quickly it passes. It seems like we were just here with Matilda and now she's doing somersaults and reciting the Lord's Prayer in Latin! (Alright, alright, she can't recite the Lord's Prayer in Latin. Or in any language. But she can do a mean somersault.) And I sure am thankful for my visiting teachers and my in-laws and my washer and dryer and... I could go on and on.

Most of all I'm thankful for repentance and forgiveness. Like I told Chace late last night as we talked about how we'd seen the hand of the Lord in our lives that day, as we do each night before bed, every day is such a roller coaster. One moment I feel like the best mom in the world, snuggled up all lovey dovey on the couch with my precious, perfect girls reading Bible stories. The next, I totally lose my cool and my perfect girls have turned into little snot-nosed hellions out to destroy my life and I'm screaming at Tilly or nudging her a little too roughly "OFF OF THE TABLE!" or "OUT OF THE BABY'S BED!" Then come the guilt and the hot, shame-filled tears. And then, miraculously, comes my girl, right back for more, holding out a book for me to read to her or a spoon heaped with some imagined concoction from her little toy kitchen for me to 'taste'. And I get another chance. Hope I don't blow it. And I will. We're learning and growing, and there's really no place like home for the kinds of lessons we're being taught--mostly that we really just need to be more like our kids.

I've heard that the times the Spirit is strongest in a home are the times surrounding death and birth when the veil is thin. I don't have very much experience with death, but Eloise's birth has brought a sweet, calm spirit to our home. We love to guess what she's thinking when she gazes up at us with those serious eyes and we wonder if she remembers a time before she came to us. She is a special girl, and we're so glad she's ours.

Model material?

I got an e-mail suggesting I enter Matilda in a baby model contest. Do they take crazy babies?

By request: humiliating belly photo/recent shots of Matilda

Okay folks, this'll be short and sweet cause between painting and organizing and painting and appointments and painting and playing with my gal (and did I mention painting?), there's not much time these days for blogging! So, let's get the worst part over with:

La Mama, obviously ecstatic about having her photo taken at 38 weeks gestation with a full moon just days away! Fingers crossed for a full moon baby. We can't wait to meet her!

Now to the real point of this post, of this whole blog really: here's what our little Tilly Wonka is up to these days.

Cruising in her carriage

Playing dress up with my clothes

Making forts

Being cute and looking reeeeally old to her mammy and pappy

Driving the golf cart with Grandpa

Learning to share

Loving her new stash of toys from Auntie Debbie and Uncle Ed

Helping around the kitchen

Being a farm girl in Nauvoo

Next up, being a BIG SISTER! We'll keep you posted!

Crunchy Con

I had only heard of the term "crunchy" yesterday. As I explored the world-wide-web to understand what kind of person would be considered "crunchy", I found that there were pieces of myself in the descriptions, but the overall motivations for the "crunchy" life-style did not match my own. I then ran across this clip from NPR describing "crunchy cons" (not con like con-artist, but like conservative). Not that I like labeling people, least of all myself, but I think I can say with a high level of confidence that this one fits me.

Love to all our readers,
Chace

That's Amore!

My first thought was, "That guy's got some weird taste in shoes." Then he said he'd served his mission in Italy, and it made sense--poor guy hadn't gotten over the mission yet. How sad.

Then I dazzled him by spouting off all the Italian I could remember from the "Italian For Kids" cassette tapes I got from the library when I was about 10, mostly useless phrases like, "Where is the door? Where are my friends? One, two, three... I like school. Where is the teacher? Four, five, six..." That pretty much exhausted my mastery of the language. Little did I know I'd have a very foxy, Italian-teaching husband tutoring me through my accelerated Italian class mere months later!

We sat together in Music 101 thenceforth (consequently learning almost nothing about music). He was dating someone. I was dating someone. Most days after class I borrowed his cell phone to call my beau to see where he wanted to meet for lunch! But after a few "study sessions" (during which we didn't study a lick, but only succeeded in driving everyone else in the group crazy with our shenanigans--just ask Ang...) and a really enjoyable little outing (not a date!) his flirting became more bold. Finally, during lecture a few days later, I wanted some answers.

"Why are you flirting with me?"
Stunned pause.
"I mean, are you just a flirt? Or do I merit some special attention?"
"Well no, actually, I'm not. And yes, actually, you do."
"Okay. Let's talk about it."

Later that night we meandered around campus for hours. We decided we'd both end things with our significant others and see what would happen. Then we hugged.

And I was home.



Happy anniversary, Darling. Here's to five years of me trying to change your taste in shoes... maybe I'll succeed sometime in the next five?

Copycat

I have a little problem. All I want to do is read. And there is much to be done around here as we try to get this house in order before my little woman comes in just a few short months. So I've been trying to justify my reading by doing it in conjunction with other activities. Consequently I end up spending way too much time in the powder room and lingering over my meals. So, having finished eating my breakfast yesterday, I sat "waiting" for Matilda to finish, chin in one hand, this fascinating book in the other, when I noticed she had stopped eating and was sitting completely still doing this:



Just like her mammy.

Word of the day: Full

In heart and belly. Full in the belly because I cannot seem to stop myself from devouring insane amounts of the complimentary hors d'oeuvres, drinks, candy and other junk available at every turn here in my hotel. Gluttony, thy name is Rivka. And is it just me, or is yesterday's chicken wing trying to take flight from inside of me? Oh, wait. That's just my five-month old sea monkey fetus stretching her little fins, who, by the way, is the size of a papaya and is now supposedly eavesdropping on all of my conversations. Judging by the increasing magnitude of her little kicks and punches, she's either growing or she's just on a major sugar-high. Or both. But I have a feeling that this week's prenatal weigh-in will be more telling of my mini-Twix consumption than her growth... there's a bowl of them right near the elevator, delicious little devils.

My heart is full for so many, many reasons. The past couple of weeks have been the sort that have kept a perpetual smile of glee and gratitude on my face. And it just keeps getting better and better. The first and foremost cause for rejoicing is the aforementioned sea monkey. I feel giddy each time I feel her wriggling around and I am going crazy with curiosity and excitement to meet her. As far as I'm concerned, October 24th couldn't come soon enough. In part, what makes me so excited for her to come is the fact that I've had so darned much fun with her big sister! She is the perfect pal, and we've had grand adventures together lately. We've spent days with wonderful friends at "the beach,"

Evenings playing in the park with Papa,

Cool mornings taking delicious naps,

Hot afternoons eating ice cream cones on the lawn,

And, of course, plenty of time perfecting "The Intimidator."

We've also recently celebrated the birthdays of several of our dearly-beloved, including our handsome new nephew Caleb,

Chace's fabulous sister, Katie,

And my darling sister, Liz.

We've welcomed my baby brother Adam home from a two-year stay in the state pen.

Just kidding. We have actually welcomed him home from a two-year church mission in Taiwan.

We welcomed my other brother Pietr home from his mission in Taiwan just a few months ago,
And we get to see them both, as well as the rest of both our families, in just a couple of weeks! In the meantime, Chace has had meetings this week in Michigan, so Matilda and I tagged along, which means that we got to spend five precious hours driving there, with nothing to do but read Wendell Berry aloud. This is the one we're on currently.

(If you're not familiar with Wendell Berry, read him. And if you don't like it, don't tell me, because that might be the end of our friendship. But you will like it.)

While here, Chace and I have gotten to see some dear friends and Tilly and I have spent some quality time taking walks, reading books, playing at the splash park... and taking more walks! There are so many people here that we love and our visits are always too short, especially when I don't have a car to make the rounds. But even to be stuck at the hotel with nothing to do but dote on my babe is a welcomed change.

Tonight Chace is out with some customers, so here I sit while Matilda sleeps, enduring the christian rock concert going on in the park outside my window (Please, make it stop! Whoever invented this genre ought to be shot! Not very christian of me to say, I guess...They ought to be horse-whipped. Better?)

But now I come to the point, the reason I opened this random, scatter-brained post in the first place: while sitting here thinking about the sea monkey, pondering on the same question that has occupied my mind almost constantly since learning of her existence, namely her name, a new one popped into me little wee brain that I never considered before. Here it is: BLYTHE. I like the meaning, but is it too hard to say? Does it sound like an upchuck? Does it go with Matilda? Is it too weird? What do you think?

Stolen from my sister, Anna.

My thoughts exactly this Mother's Day (I know, it was a while ago...)

http://akmallen.blogspot.com/2011/05/mothers-day.html

The Intimidator

Chace says this photo needs some explanation, as it's rather disturbing. We call it "The Intimidator" and Matilda does it to be funny, which it really is because her eyes go just a little wonky as she lowers her head, as you can see! The problem is that now she thinks that this is what it means to "bow your head" for prayer because this is how I look when I try to show her how while looking to see if she's doing it too. She copies me and thinks it's such a great joke. Not very reverent.

What do my eyes tell you?

They're saying, "Hey! Chinese birth chart! Get a clue!" We couldn't be more excited for another little woman to join the girl party!!!
And boy will Miss Milly be glad for me to have another victim besides her!Now your task, Gentle Reader: find me a decent girl's name before Chace goes through with his evil threat to name this poor, innocent child Belindafur!

Make your predictions!

And by this time tomorrow, we'll know if you were right! Chinese birth chart says boy. You?

Advice from Elder Busche

This was shown in my Sunday lesson today. I thought is was so timely and uplifting. Hope you enjoy it too!

Full text here.

Spring is bustin' out all over! (& post edit)

We woke up this morning, as usual, to our ducky friends happily quacking away in the back yard. But only when we went out to say good morning were we met with this happy sight!



The ducklings have arrived! And we came down for breakfast just as they took their morning stroll past the deck. It's officially spring in my book. See?


And after a few days of wondering why a certain mama robin went berserk each time we walked out our front door or past our lovely blooming tree, we finally discovered the reason:


Now riddle me this, friends: What do this mama robin and I have in common?


*Hint: Matilda the Hun is very excited about it! And spring isn't the only thing that's bustin' out all over around here these days!

Happy Mother's Day!

Post edit:

1. Chace says that last sentence about bustin' out all over is a little TMI. Sorry.
2. Yes, we're expecting bambino/bambina number two in late October!!! We are ecstatic.
3. After checking on them at least once a day, the chicks are finally here! (I know you were all on pins and needles wondering...) Aren't they cute? Can't wait for mine! Happy Spring!

366 Days of Matilda

Each one more fun than the last. Who knew?!

Watch This!

And have some tissue handy.

BYUtv - Turning Point: The Clarks & Eagle Eyes

Matilda Walks!

P.S. We survived the snow...

...by napping...
...or not...
...by eating...
...swinging...
...bathing...
...dressing up...
But, by golly, we can only take so much! We're ready for spring!

Snow Storm of the Century!

Be glad that you don't live in the greater Chicago area this week...