Two Weeks

Two week s old today. *sigh*

Here are the "keeper" shots of Monday's photo-therapy session. :-)

The above cocoon was one of the pre-baby projects I ran out of time to share. I knit it myself, though I am still not a confident knitter. I think the big huge holes made it easy to think I could hide my mistakes.

My friend Nanci made up a preliminary pattern for me that I sized down a wee bit. (Thank you again Nanci! I am so happy to have this photo-prop, since hydrangea hats and handkerchief bonnets are out of the question...)


Stocking caps were another pre-baby project I wanted to create, but I never could find a crochet pattern for them. All I ever found were knit, which I have to learn how to do well one of these days!


In the meantime, I found an Etsy seller with great prices, a sweet personality (yes, that matters to me!) and quick delivery (and incidentally, free shipping!) which says a lot since she is from IRELAND. Yowza. I now own hats from Ireland. How cool is that?!?


So I used some of my saved church-cleaning money and splurged. I consider it a business investment anyway. (You'll see why very soon...)


You must check out her Etsy shop: http://www.etsy.com/shop/justynajustyna



I LOVE the bright colors of the aqua and red. That is one of my all-time favorite color combinations. EVER.

But I really love the creamy soft and calming green and white one too.





Now here is my dilemma. I can't chose a favorite!

I need a picture for birth announcements and a picture for thank you notes. (You didn't think I could send MAIL without pictures, did you?!? Here is a secret: I even make my own photo return address labels. I am that pathetic. And now you know.)

So my question is: are any of these suitable and/or which would be best for which?

Or maybe I should rethink the birth announcement and have a photo that you can see Judah's hair in. Do birth announcements do better with upclose head shots or full body shots? Eyes opened or closed? Cute hats or hair? Am I thinking too hard on this? (wait. Don't answer that one.)


So if ya wanna~ I'd love to hear your opinion. And if you wanna cast your vote, you can take this handy-dandy two question survey I created! (Aren't I getting all high-tech?!?!)

What think ye???

Quizzes by Quibblo.com

Outtakes

A few outtakes from the other days' little photoshoot. A real photographer wouldn't show outtakes, and would certainly NEVER show outtakes before the nicer shots. But that's me, ever swimming against the tide.

Keeping it real, as it were.

From my last post, sounds like people like "real" but if ever I get TOO real, you will let me know, won't you? :-)

These shots crack me up.


First there is the Baby Washington shots~ all I can see is a boy wearing a wig. It isn't a wig, mind you, but knowing that doesn't change anything at all. It is actually a baby cocoon type-thingy. Similar to this one:

Obviously, this one is way too big. Which says a lot considering my boy was half grown upon arrival. Maybe someday I will have some more twins to photograph, but in the meantime I think this wrap will have to be shelved. Pity, too. I liked that yarn. (I bought two skeins of it at a yard sale for .10!)

Then there are the inevitable body functions of a newborn:



...and worst yet: any mother knows what a face like this means~

~and trust me, it ain't a pretty sight to a photographer worried about the white furry blanket snuggling against that naked bum.

And then there are photos like this, that lend themselves perfectly to games.

QUICK! How many chins can you count?!?


How many chins does one boy need?!? He takes after his Mama.

Finally~ for those back in the days of Foto Friday who would say how much they liked "behind the scenes" shots: This one is for you:

The lighting was horrible because it was too cold outside to be naked (rats) and the only sunny-ENOUGH window was TOO sunny (creating harsh shadows and light) so the only "good lighting" shots were taken when the sun momentarily slipped behind a cloud. Not too bad a deal when the weather is 98 degrees and comfy to be naked in. Quite a different story on a 70 degree day.

Judah was a very good sport.

The very professional setup is a fabric remnant on top of a beanbag on top of my vanity, next to my bedroom window.

Monday Madness

A morning begins. A school morning. Even though I haven't PLANNED for it, even though the school shelves that got so nice and tidy had become destroyed by summer reading, summer painting, summer creating, and summer neglect.

Still, we start cheery. I know in my head this week is going to be easy and slow on everyone, meant especially to remind minds of what was once learned after a summer of intense play. And meant to give a Mama some time to fully prepare.

But soon, baby cries for feeding. Toddler cries because she can't sit on baby and give Smooch smooches. Boychild sings at the top of his lungs the ABC song and then interrupts himself every five seconds to ask me what an R looks like and "Is this a V?" holding up a Z puzzle piece? Right while I am trying to explain something to the girl beside me, from the math workbook she was SUPPOSED to do during the summer months. Then the girlchild begins to wail "I don't remember how to do this! I don't KNOW ANYTHING"

And my eyes begin to glaze.

The school shelves shout at me that they ought to be perfect this very moment and WHY aren't you prepared?!? The laundry whirling in the bathroom screams of work that will be coming shortly, "so be prepared for us" the thumb their noses my way. A new cabinet sits empty, mocking me until it gets filled.

And oh yes~Judah gets baptized on Sunday and has nothing to wear and I have no time to sew him anything! And a baby at church needs a welcome gift made, by Sunday. And thank you cards need to be written and birth announcements need to be made for the few that would appreciate one. And pears and grapes are going to be needing to be canned soon! And I haven't gone to the garden in a few days-there is likely another large batch of tomatoes to be dealt with. And I haven't forgotten about the jalapenos that are actually getting wrinkled waiting for me to deal with THEM. And I haven't paid the bills yet this month, have I? And Judah needs to be put on Matt's insurance.

Matt is gone for work, day one. I want so badly to have it altogether when he gets back. I want him to have a nice meal waiting, since he wanted to go back to work about as much as I wanted him to. I want to have the cupboard he built for me filled by the time he gets home, so he sees how much I appreciate his work.

But I don't have it together at all. Not one little bit.


My teeth bite back the tears inside of me. My hands clench, holding my emotions as best as they can. For several moments, I can only sit and wonder at the awfulness of this moment.

Instead of crying, wailing with the rest of them, I give Corynn the easiest pages in math to do. I tell her I am here for TEACHING and how it is okay not to know something because "hey! that is what LEARNING is, after all." I say it in a voice, almost whispered and too controlled, but not harsh or impatient or frustrated like it could sound.

We bring out the paints. Adele' eats the paint and paints her dress with them, but hey. They are non-toxic and washable. I get a potroast with potatoes and carrots in the crockpot, with extra onion, just like Matt likes.

And I begin organizing. I can't organize the school shelves because the table is full of painters so I instead organize the pantry. I sweep the shelves, sort the food, and my teeth begin to unclench. Organizing SOMETHING always helps.

I feed the baby. My dear one, who I would love to sit and rock all the live long day~kissing temples and puckers and soft, furry ears. And I mourn that I am pulled in so many directions, away from his little body. I mourn that there is laundry to do, and school to teach, and produce to can, and eggs to gather and supper to make.



I mourn for my baby, who has already lost the baggy back-of-the-head-wrinkles that he had just a week ago without me noticing.

I spent nine months anticipating his birth, waiting impatiently for him to grow strong enough to come and ever since....I beg him to stop growing. Stay little, my darling! Don't let me forget how you lean into me and tuck your head into my neck.

Eventually naptime comes. Quiet. And baby and I get some moments. Moments to stare adoringly. Moments, just our own. Being behind a camera always helps calm my nerves.

After rest, children run in sunshine and Mama stays inside and fills a husband-made cupboard with jewel tones. It is lovely.

The school shelves never did get organized, my curriculum never did get hashed out. But a cupboard got filled for a husband, a pantry got cleaned for a family, two loads of laundry were done for bodies, a baby and Mama had alone time, a toddler got extra snuggles, and two children were taught a very good lesson on patience and self-control. A Mama, too.

Even though for some reason, some of the carrots and potatoes were still hard by suppertime, the rolls were just a TADBIT burned; and even though the school shelves and school planning were moved to TODAY'S agenda; and even though I wondered how I would survive the day that morning~ I did survive and not just that: I got the most important thing accomplished.

On the first day of school, it was I who was taught. My homework was self-control. I learned that more than any other thing on my suffocating to-do list, prioritizing your FAMILY is most important. Loving on them, doing things FOR them, and reacting in a godly way TO them is the most important thing to check off on your list.

Show your family you love them. CHECK.

oh~HELLO.

Internet! My long lost friend.

Sorry I abandoned you this week.

It wasn't because I was resting. Or sleeping. Or taking it easy after pushing out a nearly-11 pounder.

It was because I have been living in bliss for the last week with Matt home from workie work. I have followed the man around like a little lost puppy dog. And when I haven't been following him around like a puppy dog~ I have been suffocating my wee-ling with Mama kisses. Or sniffing his neck. Or rubbing his nuzzle-soft head. (It is addicting, I tell ya.)


I just can't bring myself to get on the computer when there is baby kisses and husband stalking on the agenda. (as it should be.)

But alas. Today is Friday. The week is spent and I am getting teary-eyed just at the THOUGHT of Matt going back to work. waaaaaaaaaaaaah. Too bad you can't retire during the child-rearing years and work through retirement. Wouldn't THAT be grand? For EVERYONE involved???

It's been a busy week, worthy of a recap:

Smooch is a darling angel boy. I find it hilarious that every picture I take of him makes him look like he is either scowling or howling, when in fact I think he has cried about 5 times since birth. It must be that crazy brow of his, that just can't beat gravity or something. The boy is the most contented little thing there is.

It's hard to get my hands on the little guy too, with so many people vying for his attentions.


This girl is the worst of all. She would be content to hold him all day long, if I let her. ( And no-it isn't a bad thing. It is a great thing.)


Andrew doesn't ask as often, but when he does, he is perfectly content to sit for long periods of time with his little brother. And he almost always plays with Judah's hand. His is a very manly form of affection, very much like his father.


The hardest part about having four children? Keeping the fourth one alive.


Adele is well-meaning and affectionate to Smooch, even when she is climbing on top of him to give him a kiss, or shoving a finger in his eye to tell me excitedly that they are open, or bruising his softspots in order to rub his soft little head. (BTW~he totally WAS NOT crying in the above picture. Crazy, huh?)


And I can tell you this also: it is NO fun to have two in diapers. Adele's school syllabus this year? Toilet training. STAT.

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Speaking of school syllabuses. Since Matt took the week off, so did we (or rather, never started) so Monday is our first day of official school. And boy do I have A.LoT. to do before then. YIKES.

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I have lost 22 pounds since last Thursday. Eating candycorn and icecream. That is always nice. But since I gained about 50 some pounds, that isn't all that impressive. Unfortunately, I have about 36 pounds to go. This is the curse of gaining a lot of weight during pregnancy-which I always do. You lose a lot at once, but then...THEN, you still have a long way to go. I'll start dealing with THAT on Monday too. ;-)

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We celebrated a Little Miss birthday several days late~ and with a boughten cake. (The first time ever.) Little Miss Corynn was (thankfully) fine with putting off the per-requested cow and flower garden cake I would decorate when she was given the opportunity to pick out her own cake from the grocery store.


We dove right in excitedly, but her face after about three bites was enough to have Matt and I rolling. Storecakes LOOK pretty, but aren't exactly...ummm.....good. Are they??
Corynn was HAPPY to give the entire cake away with only four pieces missing.

*blech*


In our house, wishes can come true, even if they are "told". She wished to be a princess. Doens't she know she already IS?

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It took just a few days for the caught-up laundry and garden produce to get all mountainous and over-bearing again. And yes, I *am* standing on the counter. I am the Mama, it is my prerogative.


So I have been dealing with these. This time, in the form of pizza sauce.


And a few batches of jalapeno/hot pepper jelly.


What am I MOST proud of growing this year? These beauties:


These bell peppers are some real beauties. Huge and vibrant. What is all the more amazing is that I have never before successfully grown a pepper that looks like from the shelves of Wegmans. They have always been teeny and thin skinned and (did I mention teeny?) But I did THIS year! YAY. I think the key is to first give up on them and then ignore them. I think bell peppers are just shy during the "awkward" years-er, weeks.

All this canning talk just made me realize: I haven't updated my "Putting Up" sidebar list since I deleted last years' docket! eek! Better do that one of these days~

And THAT reminds me of this~a project! Made just for ME. No-I don't get flowers, but projects are pretty nice surprises too, if you ask me. Matt has been working on this throughout the week...amid (and despite) the hoverings of all his littles and wife who love him so dearly. I wonder what it IS?!?!? ;-)


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By the way~ when did I give permission for the weather to turn cold? I didn't. It has foiled all great expectations and plans for naked newborn shots. Our house is cold. Totally. not. cool. Hope it warms up a bit. Just for a day?! Pretty please?!?

A Labor Day Story

Since it is Labor Day, I figured now is a perfectly fitting time to share Smoochs' and my "Labor Story".

It's only right, right?

( ...except labor day came and went before I finished this post, so now it isn't anymore. oops. )

Anyone who squirms at the words "dilation" or "mucous plug" may want to skip this post. Just so's ya know...

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Tuesday was a busy day for me and as usual, I began having contractions before bedtime. By 2 in the morning, I was "certain" they were real so we called Matt's parents. At 2 am. They drove down to stay with the children. At 2 am. We headed to the hospital. At 2 am.

By 4 am, the "real" contractions had stopped, and despite my very-unfrugal and irrational desire to sleep at a hotel so as not to face Matt's parents, we came home. Since his parents had taken our bed, Matt and I snuggled together on our couch, my feet by his head and his feet by mine~sharing the one lone blanket we keep downstairs. Needless to say, didn't get much (cough, cough...ANY) sleep that night.

It was NOT fun facing everyone in the morning sans baby.

Wednesday passed quickly enough~I went shopping and met up with my sister at Chuckie Cheese to take my mind off of castor oil and come-alongs. That night, Matt and I watched a movie and somewhere between America and Paris, contractions began again. I decided right then and there that there was ain't NO WAY I was gonna call my in-laws again until I actually lost my mucous plug. I would NOT be faked out again. I would NOT wake those poor people up for nothing. I would NOT look like an IDIOT who has had three babies before and can't tell what constitutes REAL labor. I would NOT. I would NOT.


We headed to bed at 10:30 and I was keeping my contractions a secret. Because they weren't REAL, after all. They never ARE. But for some odd reason, I couldn't lay down flat. It hurt too much. Matt fell asleep next to me as I tried reading. Pretty soon, it hurt too much to read too. SO I went downstairs. In my head I wondered if it might be the time, but No. No blood. No mucous plug. "I am NOT going to call ANYONE without seeing blood." said I, trying to convince myself. SO I walked around the house. Again and again and again. It didn't take long before I began talking to myself through contractions. I decided to take a shower and then, if they were still coming as hard and fast as they were, THEN I would call. Twice I nearly keeled over in the shower. I decided to let Matt call.

Of course he said.... "Have you started bleeding? Tell me about your contractions."

Now the man was well meaning, but to a very-pained, in-labor woman....that was just plain condescending. I said something like "I don't care if you believe me or not~I am in labor and I am NOT waiting for bleeding anymore. CALL YOUR PARENTS." It was 12: 30 am.

I knew I was in trouble when a very short time later, I couldn't talk through my contractions and instead began to grunt. When I realized I was verbally reassuring myself after a contraction I realized I had waited too long.

Matt's parents took FOR.EVER. to get here. They got to our house at 1:00 am.

And the car ride to the hospital took lightyears. Then, I couldn't talk at all after a contraction and I began to think "It's too late. It's too late. We aren't going to make it. I feel like I could...." and then a contraction would begin again making me lose all train of thought.

We got to the hospital and praise God-someone happened to be out there with a wheelchair. I couldn't walk anymore. We rushed up to the birthing center and screamed my birthday to someone and got ourselves a room. The nurses knew I wasn't kidding. The wheelchair never stopped.

My shorts somehow came off me and I flung myself on the bed. It was 1:23 in the morning on September 2nd.

Corynn's birthday.

The only day I hoped the baby WOULDN'T come.

The nurse checked me while Matt went to get me some water. I remember the nurses saying in panicked tones that the midwives were all at home and I was fully dilated, fourth baby. I remember telling Matt I was fully dilated and him saying "Well, the baby can't come YET, your water hasn't broken." And then I remember saying "This baby is coming! Right, stinkin', now."

And then, there he was....at 1:30 in the morning.

Exactly 7 minutes after arriving.

I never did get my midwife, the nurses delivered... but I did get a pretty amazing child.


Judah Benjamin tipped the scales and caused all sorts of exclamations when he weighed in at 10 pounds, 11 ounces (HOLY COW). A whole two pounds bigger than my biggest child. That is just W.R.O.N.G. He was 22 3/4 inches long.

He doesn't fit into the newborn diapers I bought for him or the hospital provided and he has skipped right over size 0-3 months. The going home outfit I made him cut off his circulation. Well, that's not true~ the spit-up cloth fit.


My adrenaline was on high gear so I never did sleep during what was left of the morning. I never did sleep throughout the day and the next night, when my exhaustion finally caught up with me, Judah decided to wake up and keep me up all night, so I didn't sleep then either. I *maybe*, very liberally, got 6 hours of sleep over a four day period.

Because he was delivered so fast, poor little Judah had some asphyxiation problems due to all the amniotic fluid that did not get squeezed out of him during delivery. The nurses had to shake him up for quite a while before I even got to hold him~ and throughout the following day he would throw up huge amounts of fluid, then choke on the mucous. The worst was when he turned gray and deathly looking and stopped breathing~when the nurses grabbed him and ran to the nursery to shove a suction tube down his throat and then put him on oxygen. That was an incredibly scary time. When nurses run with your gray baby without saying anything to you...it is your LIFE they are running with, and you can only follow and pray.

Praise God we haven't had any more scares like that.

That is the story of how our He-man came to be.



It was an odd time to have a baby, this early in the morning. (The nurses even wrote the wrong day on the bracelets as some of you observant people already noticed). Matt fell asleep and I didn't want to wake him (plus, I was *trying* to sleep) so the lights were out for the wee early morning hours and then visitors came, choking kept happened, we blinked and our stay was over. I hardly took any photos at all (completely unlike me.) I never got a single picture of Judah and I after birth (sniff). I love those shots most of all. It was nothing like this time, that's for sure. These are the measly few photographs that I did get. Is that not ridiculous?


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Judah slept last night from 10:45 to 5:15 this morning, so I finally feel refreshed and invigorated for the first time in a week~and I have spent far too much time this morning (even writing most of this post yesterday) behind this computer. Beautiful sunshine~ here I come!

Happy Birthday Riddle

What has.......

... eyelashes peeking?

... fingernails, too long?

... a most amazing cyclops brow?

... deliciously plump lips?

... watching eyes?

... hair, every square inch?

... feet canyons, Grand

... and a very revealing anklet?

The Newest Newman!!
The biggest little procrastinator you ever did see.

Meet
Judah Benjamin Newman,
the shine in our eyes.


He was born yesterday. I am home now, and exhausted, so the birthstory will wait for another day~but no worries, it will only last about seven minutes anyway.

Be prepared to squeeze your knees and hold your breath when you hear how big this not-so-little guy is.


We are in love. Lots of it.

There goes that!

This whole business of letting the babies fall where they may can really be excruciating in this culture. And I am not just talking about in Walmart....but even in the dealings with coworkers, friends, family, and even (sadly) in the church. Family can sometimes be the worst of all. The raised eyebrows and harsh comments are really irritating.

One of the ways I have always combated this problem is by mentally preparing everyone by joking around about it. That way, they can raise their eyebrows in private, not in surprise when you tell them you are pregnant again.

I joke about having twenty or so children. Likely won't happen, of course, but hey---it gets 'em prepared for ONE more pregnancy anyway. (Although-trust me: being 9 months pregnant is really changing my opinions on things. Yesterday I told Matt that "HEy! C-sections are actually sounding REALLY appealing to me!" He looked at me cross-eyed and said "You, my dear, are not thinking clearly. This is getting to your head!"

Another common joke is that we are trying to have one birthday for every month of the year. Which was working out splendidly-until Smooch.

Tomorrow is Corynn's birthday. 7 years old. SEVEN. How this can be, I will never know.

Who knows, she might get a baby for her birthday!

Guess I have to think up some other joke now.

Happy September 1st.

(sorry about the totally unrelated photo---you know me. Can't post without a photo and I didn't have any "fresh" ones except this one!)