A Child's Prayer

Last night we actually had a real Family Home Evening, complete with piano playing and a lesson AND treats. It was miraculous.

The even more miraculous thing though was what happened as we were getting ready to say the opening prayer. "Okay, it's time for prayer. Fold your arms." We look over and there is little 15-month-old Duke, sitting next to his sister on the couch, trying to fold his chubby little arms. I started helping him fold his arms during prayers in church a few weeks ago, but him doing it on his own was a first. As his mother, I was amazed at the language and physical development this seemingly small and insignificant action demonstrated. It was a magical moment for me, to watch my baby morph into a little man in a matter of seconds. Watching a child pray (or at least fold their arms) has to be one of the sweetest things on earth.

First Soccer Game of the Season

I got before and after pictures, but no during pictures. I was too busy chasing around a toddler and catching up with other moms. I got glimpses every now and then of the game and what I saw made me smile. We'll be working on eye-foot coordination around here for the next few weeks.

Funny story. Our coach asked us to be early so the kids could get warmed up and be ready to start on time. We got there at 8:35, 25 minutes early. We were the only ones there. I wondered if perhaps the games had been cancelled due to yucky weather (it rained all day yesterday). No, the games were still on. We were just super early. I had to pinch myself.

First day of Kindergarten

Today was a monumental day for our little family. The girls went to their first day of kindergarten. They were so anxious this morning, they kept trying to hurry us up for fear we were going to make them miss it.

When we picked them up, I asked them what their favorite thing about kindergarten was.

Izzy: recess
Liza: eating lunch

Eliza also said her teacher had cool clothes.

The girls are in separate classes again this year. I think it's a good opportunity for them to develop independently of each other. It's good for both of them to take care of themselves rather than taking care (Eliza) or being taken care of (Isabelle).

When I picked them up from school, Eliza had a really sad face. I was worried she had had a hard day. It turns out she was disappointed she didn't get to ride the bus home. I told them I wanted to drop them off and pick them up the first two days and that I'd let them start riding the bus on Monday. Whoa, did I get an earful this morning! I think more than anything, these girls were excited for kindergarten because that meant they get to ride the bus. They talked about it all last year during Pre-k (when you're not allowed to ride the bus) and have been anxiously awaiting the chance. I'm not sure why they think the bus is so great. I wonder if they'll get tired of it once the newness wears off. We only live about a 3-minute car ride from their school, but if they take the bus, they have to be at the corner to catch the bus at 8:10am, 50 minutes before school actually starts. That will be a long day for them.

Today, I kept waiting to cry. It didn't happen. I did get emotional when I was upstairs by myself getting ready before breakfast. I thought about the girls at lunch having to open all these packages and drink boxes and wondered, who's going to do that for them? I'm not going to be there for them. Is anyone going to help my sweet, precious angels or are they going to sit there, with food in front of them, and starve? It was at this moment that my chin quivered. Kind of silly, I know. If Taber hadn't been around all day today (his day off), I'm sure it would've been worse. I would've been so lonely.

Showing a little sass

Liza with the sassy hands

  

Isabelle all ready to go



Outside their classrooms. Eliza was done with stupid
pictures and wanted to get inside her classroom.
That's where she's looking.

Eliza's face in this picture cracks me up. I know
exactly what she's saying without her saying a word.
Do you?

My babies are growing up.

Duke is 1!

Nothing more fun than celebrating a baby's 1st birthday.

Duke had lots of family around to join in celebrating his first year of life. He was hesitant at first when we sat his mini cake in front of him. He poked at it, and then looked around, as if asking permission. Once he got a taste of the sweet frosting, he let loose and dug in. The bakery went ahead and made him his own mini cake (at no charge) that matched the sheet cake I ordered. It was a nice surprise! Thanks, Reasor's! I tied balloons onto his high chair as part of the decorations (No birthday in my house is complete without helium balloons). He loved them - he batted at them, tried to eat them, wiped frosting all over them. Cheap entertainment. We finally had to take the cake away - you could tell he was feeling sick from all the sugar.

It is hard to believe that it's gone by so fast. Time is speeding up. I think back to last June and remember when Duke joined our family. I never wrote down my experiences giving birth to my girls and know I'll always regret not getting the details down when they were fresh in my mind. Even though this is a year later, I feel like I should record what I remember about Duke's arrival.

I was due June 21st, summer solstice. I had a feeling my whole pregnancy that I would deliver early. Then, when my doctor told me she thought so too, I got it in my head that there was no way I would still be pregnant on June 21st. Well, I was. And the next day too. I went in for my final doctor's appointment on Tuesday, June 22nd and I was fairly far along in dilation (I think I was at like a 4 or 5). My doctor asked if I wanted to go over to the hospital and have her induce labor right then. I asked if her if I could think about it and give her a call. I didn't want to make such a weighty decision sitting half-naked in the exam room. I was miserable and definitely done being pregnant, but my desire to have a natural, unmedicated birth outweighed those feelings. I was forced to get an epidural when I gave birth to my twins and I looked forward to having the right to choose for myself this time around. I talked to some people during my pregnancy (my mom, my mother-in-law and some other people) who encouraged me to try it without an epidural. My mother-in-law, bless her heart, gave birth to seven children without an epidural. My mom had one of her children naturally (i.e. unmedicated) and said it was the best experience of all five of her babies. If they could do it, so could I! I knew if my labor was induced, it could mean complications, more intense contractions, prolonged labor. My doctor however was nervous about me being as far dialated as I was and not being able to make it to the hospital in time. I talked to a friend that night who echoed the doctor's concerns and said she had a baby in the car one time. Not wanting me to have the same bad experience, she convinced me to go to the hospital the next day to be induced. I decided I would call and set it up in the morning. Miracle of miracles, labor started on its own just a few hours after I made that decision. I felt like heaven was smiling down on me, granting me this small desire of my heart. The other wish I had was that I could go to the hospital at night. Check, check. Contractions started around 12:30am, as soon as we had laid down to sleep. I think I just thought that going to the hospital in the middle of the night was more exciting than going in the daylight. I'm wiser now though and will not wish for this again. With no epidural, there was no napping. I didn't get any sleep prior to going through labor and didn't get to sleep until that afternoon, making me one exhausted chick. I actually dozed off a few times between contractions.

When I checked in (1:30am), they said I was dilated to a seven (!). Nice. I was thinking it would take about 45 minutes. Wham, bam, baby. Not quite so. Four hours later (5:17am), I finally had my baby boy. My doctor did not seem very happy to be woken up in the middle of the night. I forced myself not to feel guilty about it. My nurses were THE B-E-S-T. Seriously. And Taber was a champ. I rubbed his hand raw I think. He was right there by my side. Later, one of the nurses came up to us and told us she doesn't often see couples work together as well as we did.

It's funny, I can't really even recall how badly it hurt. The pain disappears so quickly (Thank you, Heavenly Father). It is so short in comparison to how long you have your child. I found out later the reason labor took so long was that Duke's hand was up by his head and the cord was wrapped loosely around his neck. I spent most of the four hours on my back, but just a few seconds after moving to my side, things started moving. I yelled and hollered (it did seem to help with the pain, or maybe it was just comforting to be able to share my pain with everyone around me). Ice chips were my friend. I'll never forget how Duke looked when I first saw him. All nasty and gunky looking, but so amazingly perfect. So wonderfully new. His little mouth open and crying. I was surprised when his cries died down when the nurses laid him in the warming tray. He struck me as such a laid back baby. He was much larger than we all expected. I exercised up until the very end of my pregnancy, dang it, hoping this would keep his size in the normal range. But I think in the back of my mind, I knew he was going to be over 9 lbs. My mom had all large babies. It's in the genes. But Duke ended up being a pound heavier than even my doctor predicted. The nurses all kept saying he was such a big baby (Um, hello. Heard of that 16 pound toddler that was born just a few weeks ago? My baby was a runt in comparison). He weighed 9 lbs. 8 oz. I got to hold him immediately after giving birth. This experience was so different from the twins.

One moment sticks out in my mind. It was just Duke and I, alone in my hospital room. Taber was away with the girls somewhere, the visitors had come and gone, and it was serenly quiet. I'm sure some of it was to blame on hormones, but I was so overwhelmed with love for my new little baby, that I just balled. With the girls, the whole experience seemed so clinical, so medical, so sterile. They were whisked away to the NICU within moments of birth and I didn't get to see them for hours. There were also two of them, so I didn't have the same opportunity for one-on-one time that I had with Duke. But with Duke, to be able to spend time with him, just the two of us, to form that bond, was an amazing blessing. I felt so incredibly blessed to be his mother. The ability to bear children is the sweetest gift I have ever been given. Some days I hate being a mom, to be frank. It's not all sunshine, rainbows and lollipops. But having a part in creating another living thing is the most amazing power. And every once in awhile, God gives us experiences like these to remind us.

One more thing I want to remember from Duke's first few days. This happened the morning we were scheduled to leave. One of my sweet nurses brought Duke in to eat. It was early morning, 4 or 5am. She rolled him in and I noticed that he had on a cute Carter's outfit. I thought to myself, hmm, since when do they dress babies in Carter's clothes at the hospital? But didn't think much more about it. I was so tired and had been woken up. I wasn't doing much thinking at all. I started to try to feed Duke, but he was having trouble. I thought, well that is strange. Duke usually has no trouble at all latching on. What is his problem? A few seconds later, reality finally caught up with me and a scene from the Office ran through my head. THIS IS NOT MY BABY! OH MY GOSH! The nurse had brought me the wrong baby. I was mortified. She was mortified. She neglected to check our i.d. bracelets. How could I not tell this was not my baby? Shame on me. I felt like a horrible mom. The babies actually looked very similar though. Poor baby. He was probably thinking YOU ARE NOT MY MOMMY! It makes for some good laughs now.

We came home from the hospital Friday morning. It's been a wild ride since then. Happy birthday, my boy. Our family would be incomplete without you. Thank you for all your kisses, cuddles, hugs, smiles, and laughs. They are more precious than gold.

One day down, 78 more to go

Today marked the first day of Summer vacation. The day went fairly smoothly, despite perhaps a little too much time spent in front of various screens (computer, television, etc...) There was minimal fighting, healthy meals at appropriate mealtimes, household chores checked off the list, Duke got both (!) of his naps, and I even got to sneak in a few minutes of reading during the day (unheard of). Maybe this summer vacation stuff won't be as bad as I was expecting. Actually, it was nice not to have anywhere to be. No rushing around, searching frantically for the missing sandal, taming tangled hair, scarfing down a quick lunch before shuttling the girls to school.



Izzy used this picture of her and I for a

Mother's Day craft at school

 

Loved these two ladies!

Izzy's teacher, Mrs. McLoughlin, and her assistant, Mrs. Anderson.

I couldn't have hoped for better teachers.

 

Izzy "graduating." Notice her cap made out of red construction paper with a yarn tassle. The teacher called them all up, one by one, and had them answer a few simple questions. What's your full name, how old are you, when's your birthday, what do you want to be when you grow up? Izzy said she wants to be a cowgirl when she grows up. Love it! No boring princess or ballerina for my girl. There was another little boy in her class who said he wanted to be a cowboy. Hmmm. Should I be worried?

I filmed Eliza's class program instead of taking still shots, so when I figure out how to upload it here, I will. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea that I favor one of my children over the others...I know this post is Izzy-heavy. That is one challenge with having twins - I have to be very careful to make sure things are equal and even. I think this is a challenge with any set of siblings, but I think it's magnified with twins because the comparisons are happening instantly, not years apart.

One day down. If you have any ideas of fun things to do during the next 78, I would love to hear them!

Swimming class

We signed the girls up for swimming classes at the YMCA this fall. It's a 4 week program with 2 classes a week.

Their teacher's name is Mr. Mike. This is Eliza here - she wouldn't let go of Mr. Mike's arm - I was by the side of the pool as they were practicing and overheard him trying to reassure her that she would be okay and he wouldn't let go of her. She seemed a bit apprehensive about everything except for holding onto the pool wall. Isabelle on the other hand was quite adventurous. I would've never pictured their personalities developing this way.

Here they are after class was over. They were disappointed they couldn't stay and play. Another mom there asked me halfway through class if they were twins. A common question. I didn't think to ask her the same thing. I found out after class was over that the three other kids in the class were triplet girls...two identical, one fraternal. Their mom's name? Kim.

Weird.

One of the most exciting things about having the girls in this class for me is that I get to see them being independent, relying on another adult for instruction and growth, and socializing on their own with other kids. I know a lot of parents get sad as they see their children grow up, but the dominating emotion I'm feeling is excitement and anticipation at seeing each of them grow and develop into their own person.