Christmas Night

Christmas was finally in full swing over here today. The snow delayed us by a day, separating our family with impenetrable roads. Yet, after some pretty anxious waiting we all gathered last night. Now the Eggstrata and Potica have been eaten; the stocking have been pillaged; and all the packages unwrapped. Now I have Andy Williams playing from the stereo... so I am really missing my Mom and Dad. I thought I'd put up some pictures for them, and all our other loved ones very badly missed. Merry Merry Christmas, everyone.

5 AM, alone in the silent house he found the trains.

My father built this with his hands and his love; from the same plans he built the ones for my sibling and I more than a quarter of a century ago.

Pigs are flying and this snow storm made it as far south as Hell.

I am planning a hospital birth.

We came to a real and final decision after considerable discussion and disappointment this past Sunday. It wasn't easy for either off us... but the bottom line is that though a homebirth would be a possibility in our much loved new home, it wouldn't be the best choice for us.

It makes me so sad just writing those words.

How could we pass on it if it were a possibility? Well, we went through this same dilemma when Georgia was born. Though it was a different wonderful woman offering us the possibility, the dilemma was the same. When we became a homebirthin' family way back when Normy was born, we defined a set of criteria that we felt comfortable with when it came to planning our residential birth. I'm going to share it with you. But, I want to make it clear that this is OUR criteria and no one else's. You may have a different checklist that is important to you, and that doesn't make either your nor my choice "right" or "safe". There is ALWAYS risk associated with birth. There is no doctor, midwife, or hospital that can guarantee a perfect outcome. Therefore, it is up to every parent to take responsibility for which set of risks they are willing to accept. And it is every individual's job choose where and with whom they are going to feel most comfortable in birth.

OK, so for us to feel good about a homebirth:

1) Live within 30 miles of a hospital

2) Hire a midwife who lives within 100 miles of us.

3) Midwife must be credentialed. CPM or CNM... I love them both. Though they may represent very different paths to midwifery the destination is the same. Or at lease in the same neighborhood. ;-)

4) Midwife must suture, bring something like lidocaine for said stitches, bring pitocin for hemorrhage, ambu bag, and oxygen. And of course either a doppler or fetoscope.

It isn't a huge list. We just can't seem to make all the stars align just right for us here. And since moving to Nebraska we've gone round and round about weather we would be willing to fudge one little item on our list to make it work. And again we've decided that, no, we can't.

Plus, and here's the rub: even if we did decide to move ahead with a homebirth, we'd have to be so secretive about it. That sits very poorly with Smoochy and I who pride our selves so much on living in the light, so to speak. Homebirth per se IS NOT ILLEGAL IN NEBRASKA... but it lives in a sort of gray undefined territory. And any midwife who is willing to serve this community deserves complete solace and protection. It's not like we can't keep a secret, we just want to be able to talk openly about our baby's birth.

So, why aren't we going to Kansas again? Well, a couple of reasons. The big reason is that I do not want to do anything that may cause Smoochy to missing this birth. The birth of a child is one of life's most incredible and sacred moments... if you miss it, there's nothing you can do to get it back. It's over. And, we already learned that lesson the hard way once. Plus, the thought of up-rooting an almost four year-old, a two year-old, and our dog for two or more weeks and squeezing us all into my in-laws' life sounds like more of a challenge than I want to tackle at 40+ weeks pregnant.

Recently, I had the ultimate privilege of serving as my friend's doula at the birth of her twins. It was an amazing birth, and it went a long way relieving my general fear of a hospital birth. Her hospital room was quiet, dimly lit, and filled with respectful care providers who put her birth before hospital policies. Really, except for the shift change, her hospital birth was very very similar to my birth center birth.

The local teaching hospital, UNMC, has a CNM practice that is highly respected in our natural birth community. At my first prenatal the midwife said to me: I expect you to eat and drink in labor and to push in any position you choose. She told me a midwife can meet you in triage and streamline that process; use a doppler for the entire labor; and has no problem with clients going 100% IV free. All that sounded very very good. At a later visit with a different midwife, we were talking about GBS and my desire to avoid antibiotics. (I was GBS positive at the time of Georgia's birth and she and I developed a nasty case of thrush as a result of the IV antibiotics I received during her labor.) Anyway, the midwife went over the risk of foregoing the antibiotics, then told me "If you decide you don't want to receive the antibiotics, I suggest you simply don't get tested for GBS. That way no one gets nervous when you ask for an early discharge." I was pleasantly shocked.

The biggest down side to the hospital birth, besides leaving the comfort and safety of my own home and traveling to a disease infested hospital to birth my child is the fact that I will be at the mercy of whose on call. There are six midwives that work at UNMC, and there is no choosing when it comes time for the show. But, really that is no different than at the birth center. True, there were only two (both wonderful) midwives at the birth center where Georgia was born, but because I went to Kansas so rarely for prenatals, I only met with each of them twice. It probably won't be any different at the hospital. I'll get to meet with each midwife a few times. Weather they are all wonderful is as of yet to be determined!

I am not all sad about the hospital birth. A part of me can't help be interested in experiencing the great American cliche of rushing to the hospital with excitement in the middle of the night to have a baby. I'll have had a home birth, a birth center birth, and a hospital birth... three different birth stories for three different children. (They'll have each been born in different states as well!) And I am not scared of things going out of my control. I am going to go in there and have that baby in the exacts same way I would on my living room floor. Though they do have wonderful tubs and no restriction agains waterbirth... so maybe it won't be just like on my living room floor. In any event, It's not like Smoochy will take any crap from the hospital folks. I have a true lion of a husband who will protect my birth space. I pity the nurse who crosses him. ;-) But, the purpose of hiring health care providers we trust, is that hopefully there won't be any need for him to show his teeth. Right?

I've been marinating on a way to conclude this for the better part of an hour, but really that's just about it. We are going to the hospital... institutionalized medicine... here we come!

15 weeks today

15 Minutes

I swore to myself that as soon as the knitting I was finishing was off the needles I would commence cleaning my kitchen. This is the one gift the tired-end-of-the-day-me gives to the exhausted-awoken-from-deep-sleep-by-a-three-year-old-at-five-in-the-morning-me. I hate the cleaning, but a tidy kitchen is the only way I have the patience to pour the milk and start the coffee without resenting the ones I love the most. So, at night I do the dishes, wipe the counters, sweep the kitchen floor, and start a load of wash. Tonight's load will be a weeks worth of diapers. (With each kid down for one at nap and one at night I can really stretch my stash!) I love falling asleep to the sound of the cleaning machines doing the work for me.

Anyway, maybe it's the thrill of finishing a knitting project that I have been working on since September... but I am all jazzed up and ready to put a few words up on the screen. (I'll show you pictures of said knitting after Christmas!) ;-)

So here's the thing. Despite the fact I never seem to find the time to do the things I love here lately because I am always napping away my free time, I am in LOVE LOVE LOVE with my life. Sometimes I have to pinch myself just to make sure it's all not a dream. I was on such a different road for such a long long time, that sometimes it amazes me that it all worked out this way in the end. What happened to the glitter covered dancing girl that spun light and passed out beads until six in the morning in seedy after after hours clubs in JAX? What happened to the bartender who slung drinks and called shot-thirty every fifteen minutes? How did I get to be this better more grounded version of me? A mini-van driving, stay at home mom, who knits, and cooks, and likes very much that I'm someones Mrs.?

Well, it all started when that whiskey slinging barmaid fell for her drunken sailor and they pulled each other off the self-destructive collision course they were on.

The other night we had a camp out. We set up our guest mattress in front of our fireplace and slept cuddled in the glow of the flame and our twinkling Christmas tree all night long. Yes, slept. Gone are the days of sitting up till dawn chain smoking and trying to talk through all the world's mysteries. These days we sleep. But, it is the deep contented sleep of two people who have found the spot where they truly fit.

I love my husband. He doesn't fit neatly in any box. Macho, emotional, annal-retentive, logical, gregarious, show-off, loaner, strait shooter, conservative, anti-establishment, patriot, authority-bucking, leader, loyal, know-it-all, grounded, big dreamer, slight pyromaniac, always putting out my fires. He is a freaking character.

Sometimes I really wonder how we have lasted. Well, I take that back. After two weeks of knowing the man I knew I was hooked for good. But, what I am still not sure I understand is how we work. If he is the earth I am the sky. He is the rock that things are build on and I am the willow that bends and bends and bends. OK, Maybe that's the answer. I have had it in my mind for years now that I wanted a tattoo of a rock man like Atlas, but instead of the world on his shoulders a oak/women growing out of his back. I would love to meet an artist who could make it materialize... but don't I know what skin I'd use. The garden-variety goldfish on my lower back take up where I'd want my rock man to start...

I should go clean the kitchen. Those dishes aren't loading themselves... That is my fifteen minutes of chatter.

For those who truly know him: Here's Smoochy instructing the children on the precise way to hang an ornament!

Life Flashing Before My Eyes

My Normy started Pre-K. I take him to school five days a week for three hours a day. It has been strange and wonderful. But, of course as a mother, bittersweet in that it is time for such things. Where did that sweet little baby go? He loves his back pack. He would wear it all the time if he could. But, being the creature of habit that he is, he loves getting it right before we leave and wearing it to the car. He loves hanging it on his special hook when he gets to class, and hanging it in our coat closet when we get home. I would tell you he love school, but I'm not 100% sure. He is happy to go and smiles when he comes home... so I think he does. However, when I ask him if he has had fun in school he answers, "School!" When I ask him what he's had for snack he says, "SNACK!" If I ask him if he's met any nice kids he says, "Kids!" If I ask him if he likes his teachers he says... well, you get the idea. Such is life with a three year old with a 250 word vocabulary... all of which are nouns.

Georgia has missed him desperately. When I tell them it's time to take Normy to school she wanders around the house saying, "No school! No school!"

We have had visitors solid for the last nine days. The first wave was my husbands family. It was an absolute treat. Here is everyone, first thing in the morning, checking out an old buck with a serious rack who was taking a drink from our pond. I wish I had taken a video of the family moving from room to room trying to get a good view of him.

Uncle Lucas gave Normy a drum lesson. My son was in heaven.

And of course this month we've played and been silly.

Daddy's been home, so life is good.

Yesterday the mail brought my family and I a little bit of magic. My always living, always laughing, always loving, often knitting aunt sent us a "Reading Rug". In her words, something for my children to "wrap around, lay down under, sit upon, build a tent out of- well you get the idea." And my kids needed no prompting or instruction. I placed it over our chair in the play room and within moments they seized upon it. Maybe it was the beautiful blue and green strands of soft color woven together with love that attracted them... but within moments the blanket was a dolly's bed, then a cape, then a place to snuggle. We are all feeling thankful.

I mentioned that Smoochy's family was the first wave. Well the second wave, my sister and her family are here now. The third wave is my parents who fly in Tuesday to join us... so I will be busy, and thankful for the remainder of the month. Where does that put me? Probably not on the computer much. I have pies and potica to bake. Memories to make and pictures to take. I will be soaking up every minute of this holiday with true thankfulness. Hopefully, you get to do the same. Happy Thanksgiving!

My niece. Don't you just want to eat her face?

Today Childhood Reigned Supreme

We decided to spend the day in our jammies. We decided to eat cookies all day. We decided we were going to turn our living room into an adventure.

There was a beautiful princess

a fire-breathing dragon

(this is him breathing fire!)

And a Mighty Castle

Later we decided to take to the high seas for a riotous pirate adventure!

All-aboard!

We searches high and low for buried treasure!

We looked fierce in our pirate hats!

Mean while, back in the kitchen, I was on day three of the sugar cookie fiasco. What I've learned: If anyone ever gives you a magnificently shaped and deliciously frosted sugar cookie: 1) they love you very much. 2) They are some kind of suer-hero in the kitchen. Sugar cookies are wildly demanding. There's the dough that has to be just the right temperature to keep from becoming a sticky disaster during all the rolling, cutting, and re-rolling. Endless cookie sheets in and out of the oven. I washed all five of mine twice. Burnt thin cookies and thick soft cookies all on the same pan because I couldn't get the rolling right. Fragile cookies that wouldn't scape off the sheet... and then the icing. All the icing. Good lord. My husband so helpfully interjected yesterday as I was cursing a particularly sorry batch, "You should call my mother. She makes awesome sugar cookies."

I'm sure she does.

Further, I took the time to boil blueberries to extract their juice to color my frosting. I wanted to avoid putting any nasty toxic food-dye in something for my kids. (I know, I deserve a shiny medal, right?) Two hours later, I find Georgia has snuck under the table and eaten an ENTIRE pink crayon.

Great, I'm glad I kept the food dye out of her cookies.

But, it was freaking delicious icing. ;-)

Still too pregnant to blog.

Seriously, this first trimester is wiping me out. Growing a baby is one thing, but growing the placenta is another. A friend of mine reminded me the other day, that it was forming a whole new organ in under 12 weeks that truly makes the first trimester exhausting work. I'm feeling it for sure. I could sleep all day long. My most productive time of the day has been repurposed for napping... you can imagine what my laundry piles look like. I have been finding the time to cook and clean the kitchen... but that's about it. Anyway, I'm 10 weeks along, so hopefully in a couple of weeks I'll be feeling my old self again. In the mean time bear with me.

However, here are some cute pictures from today:

We decided to make sugar cookies for dinner. Healthy choices, people!

After the cookie dough was in the fridge doing it's obligatory chill, the kids disappeared for some light reading.

Here is Normy perusing Steam: Its Generation and Use

And Georgia delving into Mehmed the Conqueror and His Time

"Wow that Mehmed! What a man! Spoke seven languages, conquered Constantinople, and securely established the Ottoman Empire into both Europe and Asia!"