The sound of silence

Yesterday I took Clara to the doctor for her 5-year well child check (is she really almost five years old??). I wasn't sure how much of the visit she remembered, since she was largely preoccupied with her increasing anxiety about whether she'd be able to get a flu shot or the much beloved flu mist. (Answer: I opted for the flu shot this year on the off chance the live virus might somehow infect Cole. She was most displeased.)

Anyway, at one point the doctor asked me whether Clara took a nap. I scoffed. "Neither of them do," I said, gesturing in mild disgust at my two older children. She said, "Well, that's a horrible thing! You would all feel better with a bit of rest every day."

Tell me about it, sister.

Before I go on, I should say that until this summer we actually were pretty regular with an hour of "quiet time" every day. This was a most beneficial exercise--for me if no one else. But between our seven week stay in Utah, family reunions, moving to Missouri, enduring excessive heat (and excessive pregnancy), and having a new baby, "quiet time" kind of fell to the wayside.

This is no longer true.

Since Clara has immense respect for teachers, doctors, and basically any authority figure with the notable exception of her parents, I thought I'd casually bring up the doctor's recommendation for a rest time every day. So today, I picked her up from preschool, we came home and had lunch, and then I told them they'd be spending the next hour having pleasant repose in their room, including a half-hour of time spent doing nothing but lying in bed reading books! (Seriously, what is wrong with children?!?? I can't think of anything that would be more wonderful than 30 minutes of lying in bed reading a book!)

And guess what? My suggestion was met with absolutely zero resistance! So for the last hour, they have been quietly playing in their rooms, looking at books, etc., with nary a scream, hit, or yell. Such a blessed event.

I called Jeremy to tell him about it, and I expressed my concern that it might never happen again so easily. His response: "But it happened today."

Yes. Yes it did.

Our new favorite hobby...

Cole Samuel

On Tuesday morning, I drove to my 39 week doctor's appointment with Jonathan and Clara in tow. Five hours later, our cute little Cole was born. Obviously, we cannot have a baby without some sort of drama and trauma, but all things considered it was a relatively mild delivery, and we're so happy he's here safely!

When I met with my doctor at around noon on Tuesday, Cole's heart rate did a few unexpected decelerations. I tend to be a source of stress for my OBs, so when I looked at her with tears in my eyes and said, "That does not sound like my baby," she said, "Listen to me, with any other patient I would not be worried, but you're here and I'm here; let's just have this baby right now."

I, of course, was immediately emotional and worried, and I was an hour from home (the joy of living in a small town as something of a high-risk pregnancy: you have to go afield for your babies), had two kids with me, and Jeremy was at his office with no car. I tearfully called him and told him I would find someone to pick him up, then I called a dear and willing friend who dropped everything to pick him up, drive him an hour away, then take my kids home with her (thank you, Kristin, truly! We couldn't have done it without you!).

My doctor said as soon as Jeremy walked in the door we'd go to the operating room, and she was true to her word. Once he arrived and put on his "nurse's clothes" (as Clara calls them), we wheeled over to the OR. The c-section went well, other than the tarp/curtain was too close to my face and when they peeked Cole over the tarp he dripped two big drops of goopy-ness into my hair. I thought he looked truly enormous, but he's a pretty normal-sized baby: 20.5 inches and 7 pounds, 12 ounces.

After he was born and made his way to the nursery to get cleaned up, people seemed to generally forget I was there. Jeremy followed Cole, only to be made to wait in my hospital room. The anesthesiologist left, the doctors were stitching me up and talking about the best museums in Washington, DC, and I stared at the blue tarp. Oh well. I guess at that point I wasn't feeling very chatty anyway. :)

When I was finished in surgery, they wheeled me to recovery, then brought in both Jeremy and Cole. That was actually the first time I'd ever had anyone other than a nurse with me in recovery. I liked it! It made up for being abandoned in surgery. After recovering from a big drop in my blood pressure (I have low blood pressure anyway, but this was low even by my standards), the three of us went to my room and have been there ever since. Jeremy has been able to spend most of his time here as well, other than a run to the airport to pick up my mom the night Cole was born (I'm so glad she's here!!) and to teach one of his classes. But other than that, he's been helpfully at my side, helping me in and out of bed, changing diapers, and getting chastised by me every time he's said something too funny (it hurts to laugh!). I sure dig that guy.

The first night was tough. I never sleep that well away from home, but between the pain, the dumb clot-preventing legging things (I seriously loathe them), and feeding Cole, I only slept for about an hour.


The first day after the surgery is always the hardest, by far, but by the day's end I was totally "wireless," eating solid foods, and walking around. And the best part of the day was when Jonathan and Clara came to meet baby Cole! Clara was particularly enthralled by him. She just wanted to hold and cuddle and talk about him. She is such a sweetheart, and is always a good big sister. Even when she fights us on picking up after herself, etc., she is nearly always willing to help Jonathan, and I have a feeling she'll be just the same way with Cole. She was also really interested in hearing about my "wound" and was very helpful in holding my hand and adjusting my legs to help me feel better. She even suggested putting a pillow under my feet. So thoughtful!


Jonathan was a champ about meeting Cole. He seemed a lot more mystified by the whole situation, and even though he was excited to see and hold Cole, he was a lot more happy to eat my cupcake from dinner and sit by me on my bed. It must be a really strange transition for the youngest!

And now I'm waiting for the doctor's go-ahead to go home today. Cole has already been green-lighted, and if my doctor is ever done with her surgeries I'm confident she'll release me as well. Even though home comes along with its own craziness, it is home, and cliche as it may be to say, there really is no place like it.

Happy Birthday, Jonner!

I am feeling very tenderly toward our youngest child today. Not only is it his third birthday, and not only is he a sweet and wonderful boy, but I am keenly aware that he'll be my "baby" for only a few days more.


What to say about Jonathan? He is truly one of the sweetest, most mellow, easy to please, fun to be around boys I've ever met. He has big, beautiful eyes, the best little Charlie Brown head, and a seriously infectious smile. He loves his family, and he borderline worships his sister. He is truly charming.

Jonathan has lots of interests lately, but the two most notable are riding his scooter and tricycle and anything to do with superheroes. I'm not sure where the superhero thing came from, but it has more or less replaced his previous passion with motorcycles (though a superhero on a motorcycle is a guaranteed hot hit).

He still loves the tiny, scruffy monkey I "rescued" from the Syracuse church nursery when Clara was a baby. He has been potty trained for about six months, and he enjoys Backyardigans, especially (you might have guessed) a certain episode he calls "Bubble Boy" where the Backyardigans pretend to be superheroes.

Speaking (again) of superheroes, Jonathan is not void of superpowers himself. His four strongest powers (other than super sweetness) are as follows:


1. Super speed. The boy runs everywhere, usually with arms pointing straight down and looking straight at the ground.

2. Super touch-of-invisibility. Jeremy and I are convinced that no one on earth can lose things more efficiently than Jonathan. We will see him with the object in question, and then five minutes later it seems to literally have disappeared from the face of the earth. Jeremy and I have spent many a frustrated evening stomping around the house trying to find that evening's must-have bedtime item. It really is a remarkable superpower.

3. Super spilling: I swear that boy can spill on clothes he's never even worn. It's incredible.

4. Super style: Jonathan has a keen eye for which clothes are "awesome" and which clothes are "not awesome." This poses a problem because, as it turns out, nearly all of his clothes are "not awesome." Sometimes it's tricky to get him dressed in the morning.


Finally, to mark this momentous occasion I sat down and "interviewed" Jonathan about some of his most favorite things. I think it's an interesting snapshot of Jonathan at age three. He's a great kid:

Favorite food: cauliflower (that's what he said, and he did request homemade pizza and cauliflower for his birthday dinner, so it could be true)

Favorite dessert: chocolate cupcakes

Favorite 'special' (one of those can't-sleep-without things): monkey

Favorite toy: truck

Favorite song: "Belagu" (a Malaysian primary song)

Favorite song to dance to: Toss up between Beyonce's "Halo" and Katy Perry's "Firework"

Favorite book: Flying High, a riveting tale about the DC Superfriends

Favorite thing to do with Mommy: read books

Favorite thing to do with Daddy: jump high off beanbags

Favorite thing to do with Clara: play with garbage trucks when we get some

Favorite thing to do during the day: make up jokes for Clara

Best thing about being Jonathan: being Spider-man

Favorite color: blue

What he wants to be when he grows up: This got three responses: a dumb neighbor (???), The Flash, and Clara

Happy Birthday, Sweetest Boy! We love you!

These are days to remember

This week has been big on firsts in our family. Just this morning, for example, Clara had her first day of Pre-Kindergarten for this year. She has been waiting for this day to arrive for what has felt like an interminably long time, and I think we were all a bit relieved that the big moment was finally here.

In preparation for the big day, I told Clara we could have a special dinner on Tuesday night, and that she could pick any dinner she wanted. Her choice? Turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and broccoli, with chocolate cupcakes with sprinkles for dessert. Why? "Because turkey is what you should always eat for special occasions." In my current state, I thought the dinner was not as fun or fancy as I wanted it to be, but she was over the moon about it and kept saying, "This is the best dinner I ever had!!" After dinner she sat so peacefully and reverently while Jeremy gave her a father's blessing, which is a special blessing of comfort and counsel for the upcoming year. It was a special time for our family.

Clara's school is a laboratory school at the university, and she is really thrilled to be a big "university student." She's particularly excited that Jeremy will get to "stroll her to school" every morning before heading off to work. I am particularly excited that we live less than a mile from campus, which means that Jeremy can stroll her to school every morning! Her school starts at 7:30, and once the baby comes I think it'll be much better for me to only have to pick her up at 11:00.

One concern Jeremy and I had is that Clara would take to waking up ridiculously early for school. She has a keen sense of the sunrise, and every time I tell her she should try to sleep in a bit she says, "It's important for us to rise with the sun." I actually disagree. I think it's important for us to rise in the general vicinity of the sun, but I like to give the sun at least a little head start. Not Clara. On Monday, for example, she popped out of bed around 6:00 a.m. so she could be ready for her Pre-K open house which, as it happens, started at 5:00 p.m.

This morning, though, I had to wake her up at 6:45. When I gently rubbed her back and told her it was time to get ready for school, she sat straight up in bed, put both hands to her cheeks, and sleepily giggled and said, "Oh, I'm so excited!" She got dressed, had a healthful bowl of "honey oaties," as we call them, and put a few finishing touches on her back-to-school readiness, which consisted primarily of fitting a box of kleenex into her bag that I'd foolishly thought we'd just carry into school. Silly Mommer.



We woke Jonathan just in time to get dressed and head out the door, but he was excited for Clara's new adventure and didn't want to leave her side. They are a sweet pair. In all of the pictures we took of her this morning, he was never far away.



As we left Clara in the classroom and headed out to the car, I was surprised to find myself a little misty. I've been really excited for her to start school and to have a few hours away from home every morning, but when it comes right down to it she's still my little girl. I'll miss her!

Clara quite enjoyed her morning away from home, although she did tell me that "the girl in the white shirt and the piggies said we weren't buddies." Goodness. Clara has a very sincere love for everyone, and it really hurts her feelings when that love isn't instantly reciprocated. But I guess these are the kinds of potentially good lessons to be learned from being social. We talked about how important it is to be kind to everyone. I'm confident she'll continue to reach out to everyone around her!

And that's the story of Clara! Three and a half hours a day can really make a girl grow up quickly. After school we were doing our daily reading lesson, and I tried to get her to write "ant." Instead of pouting or refusing, she just handed me a pencil and said, "I'll let you do the honors, Mom." That's my girl.

Before I close, I want to be sure to give Jeremy a little shout-out for his first day of school on Monday. He even humored me when I told him to wake me up before he left on Monday so I could take his picture on the porch. He's a good sport. Here's to life on the tenure track and all the stress, fun and general hullabaloo that entails. Huzzah!

Out, damn'd spot! out I say!

I have to hand it to Lady Macbeth for really hitting the nail on the head with that line. Because, I will admit this, I have been rehearsing that line over and over in my head for the last three days as I have done battle between light colored carpet and the new bane of my existence:


Actually, in all fairness to the august Kool-Aid Man, the real culprit in this tale is Crystal Light. Or, to be more accurate, the Wal-mart version of Crystal Light. Or, to be more accurate still (the devil is in the details), the real culprit is the sinister Red 40:


(I'll admit it doesn't really look that sinister as a chemical formula. It looked much worse on the carpet, but I was too upset to take a picture.)

Here's how it all went down:

On Thursday night, after the kids were in bed, Jeremy poured himself a cup of very red Crystal Light and set it on the coffee table in our living room. He proceeded to not drink the Crystal Light for over an hour. At about 10:00, after ordering Jonathan some birthday presents online, I put my laptop onto the coffee table, which in turn spilled the full cup of Crystal Light on the floor.

So, so horrible.

After some internet research (seriously, how did anyone do anything before the internet?) I stayed up until 2:30 in the morning steaming the stain out of the carpet. The next day--and I swear I am not making this up--I spent another four hours doing the same thing. Today I wrapped things up (which is code for "gave up") in another hour. So, all told, I spent nine and a half HOURS of my life getting rid of that stain.

Good news, though: the stain is almost entirely gone, just a bit of very pale pink to annoy me for the rest of my days (fortunately, the stain is unobtrusively located in the middle of the living room; what a relief).

The less good news is that Jeremy and I cannot agree on who is to blame in this sordid ordeal. Please help me out by passing judgment (on Jeremy). I will not be offended if you think it's my fault (other than that it's so very clearly Jeremy's fault). Really, tell me: who's to blame?

Waiting...

Now that I'm less than a month away from delivering our latest offspring, I thought I should post a recent photograph for my near and dear readers:


BAM!

I actually don't think the picture turned out too bad at all! I thought about posting a close-up shot of my swollen man-hands or cankles, but in the end I took a few pointers from my Syracuse friend Sami about taking a flattering picture and just went with it (I don't remember all the details, but the secret was something about the angle of the chin and the rump--like, pretend you have a chin and do not have a rump).

But back to being a bit largey and uncomfortable: You've all seen Wall-E, right? You know how the humans are so atrophied from lack of exercise and overeating that they can barely move? Well, that's just how I feel. I know every pregnant woman feels like that toward the end, but that doesn't really make it any more pleasant.

One thing about Missouri in the summer that makes pregnancy more challenging is that it's soooooo hot. And also humid. This means that even the simplest tasks seem more onerous. And the humidity has made me swell up like a puffy human balloon, which is both unsightly and unpleasant. Since I have two small kiddles, I spend a lot of time on the floor playing. And sometimes after playing I feel so stiff and swollen that I just remain there until someone happens by to heft me up. This has actually gone on for days, with everyone in the house wondering why I'm still sitting on the floor.

I kid, naturally.

Overall, though, I will say that I've been surprisingly un-stressed about this baby. This is quite possibly because every other area of our lives right now still feels so unsettled or stressful that I am simply incapable--physically, emotionally, and mentally--of doing my normal pregnancy stress. Sure, I worry about the outcome of this pregnancy, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I really hope everything goes well. I have even allowed myself to periodically feel excited about having a baby--something I haven't been very good at since we lost Sam. (Like it's any easier to have something go wrong if you convince yourself something might go wrong. Oy.) But here's to three more healthy weeks, a safe delivery, and a wonderful new addition to the fam.

The academic glamour shot

I took this head shot of Jeremy the other day for his department website. Isn't he handsome? I put it as the wallpaper of my computer for sort of a joke, and as it turns out it's a pretty funny joke because his head is truly larger than life on the screen, and the kids think it's absolutely hilarious.

A few highlights from the photo shoot:

-I said, "Where do you want to take the picture?" and he said, "Just in that little copse of trees in our back yard." Who says "copse of trees"?? (He is reading over my shoulder saying, "But it is a copse!")

-When I told him to turn his head at a slight angle to his body he told me I was not supposed to be taking his senior picture. But we both agreed, in the end, that it was a good idea.

-When he came out into the front room in preparation for the shoot wearing these glasses (which are new and which he hasn't really worn yet), Clara looked up at him and said, "When did you start wearing glasses?" (Where has she been her whole life?)

All said, I think it's a pretty good picture. We sure do like our Casio. :) Jeremy is fond of saying that Casio is super great at point-and-shoot cameras and digital watches--of which (I flatter myself) we own both.

Something for your ice cream maker, and something for your pasta

We've tried several new recipes this week, and two of them are certainly worth passing along (though we also really dug oven baked pizzadillas... think pizza baked into a quesadilla. Delightful).

The first is a recipe for lemon ice milk, which is basically frozen, milky lemon deliciousness. We were looking for something relatively light, both in taste and in fat, etc. This really fit the bill. Jeremy liked it so much he told me he wants to eat it nightly, indefinitely. High praise indeed. Here's the recipe:

Lemon Ice

Juice of 1 lemon

Lemon zest to taste (I'd probably zest at least half the lemon)

2/3 C sugar

2 C 2% milk

Whisk together the sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest until well combined. Slowly add milk into the lemon/sugar mixture while whisking rapidly. Immediately pour into ice cream maker and turn it on. Don't let the mixture sit before freezing, or the milk will probably curdle.

A few notes:

The sugar amount is variable; the recipe called for 1 C, we used 3/4 C, but we thought it was a little too sweet. Maybe 2/3 C is the "sweet" spot? Perhaps only 1/2 C?

The type of milk you use is also probably variable. I probably would've used 1% if we'd had any, but we only had 2% and nonfat. I guess I could've mixed. The lighter milk you use, I think, the icier the treat will be. 2% was pretty good.

The original recipe was double this recipe. This amount was enough for our family, but a larger family would want to double the recipe. Jeremy wants me to double the recipe next time so we can have more leftovers. Just note that once you put it into the freezer it will get VERY HARD, so plan to let it sit out for at least 40 minutes until softened, then stir before serving. Enjoy!

Homemade Lemon Ricotta (adapted from Cooking Light magazine)

2 C 2% milk

1/2 C plain Greek yogurt

2 tsp. cider vinegar

1 1/2 tsp grated lemon rind

1/4 tsp kosher salt

Combine first three ingredients in a medium saucepan. Heat over medium-high heat until small curds form, which for me happened pretty quickly, though I kept heating until just before the boiling point. Strain through a sieve lined with a double layer of cheesecloth; let stand for 5 minutes (you can also let it drain through paper towels, which is what I did since I am both sieve-less and cheesecloth-less, but I would've much rather done as the recipe instructed). Discard liquid. Scrape cheese into small bowl. Stir in rind and 1/4 tsp salt.

That's it! It's so easy and delicious. We sprinkled the cheese over some linguine with summer squash and tomatoes, and the whole dish was so summery and nice.

Photo of Lemon Ice from allrecipes.com; photo of lemon ricotta and pasta from Cooking Light magazine (myrecipes.com).

Oly on my mind

My parents' basement is good for lots of things, like staying cool on a hot day, corralling children and mess into a relatively contained space, preserving sanity when two families share a house for two months, etc. But it is also super good for staging Olympic feats of strength, speed, and agility with two restless children.

Jonathan and Clara competed in events like rolling, somersaulting, the running long jump, and the standing high jump (an event that's hilarious both because it's ridiculous and because it actually used to be an Olympic sport).



I think everyone's favorite event, though, was the high-intensity Dad Dive. At least it's the one I liked most.


We finished each Games with a medals ceremony (in which shiny if invisible medals were awarded) and a rousing rendition of the National Anthem. Trust me: we'll be ready for London 2012.

The mountains, the rolling hills, the meadows, the daffodils...and the mosquitoes...

Two weeks before we left Utah for our new home in Missouri, we went camping with my parents and sister in American Fork Canyon. I will freely admit that I'd pushed for this to happen, but my parents are pretty game for camping most of the time, and Jeremy is always game to make me happy--especially when I'm preg-a-nant. So we loaded everything up into our cars and my parents' swank tent-trailer and drove an arduous 20 minutes into the canyon.

The site was lovely, and the distance was ideal for my dad, who had to drive home to work during the day. We stayed for two nights, and I think of the seven people in attendance, our average level of enjoyment, on scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the most fantastic, ranged from a low of about .05 to a high of 10.

The lowest of the lows was me--and probably my mom--when we were abandoned with my sister and Jonathan for the better part of a wretchedly hot day with no car and no possible means of escape. Added to the wretched heat were the swarming mosquitoes who found my flesh desperately appealing. I finally took Jonathan into the trailer, stripped him down into his shorties, and played about a million slow-motion games of Crazy Eights with him. My mom kept coming in and making me drink water. Megan sat in the shade and read a book (which is why she probably wasn't feeling the .05 like my mom and I. And Jonathan loves being in his underwear and seems more or less impervious to heat, so he was pretty happy.

Of course, I have to give Jeremy a shout out, since one of his lowest lows happened to correspond to what was probably one of Clara's highest highs (though that's hard to accurately describe, since I have never seen a happier camper--literally--than my Clara). Jeremy surprised Clara with a trip up to Timpanogos Caves. She was so excited to go, and probably would've hiked most of the quite steep trail up and down if the ranger hadn't given so dang many stern warnings about rockslides, snakes, mountain lions, and other sure-fire-tales-of-death-and-maiming. So Jeremy carried her on his shoulders the whole way up and the whole way back. This was happening while I was bordering on heat exhaustion back at camp. By the time he got back, he could barely walk. But Clara was absolutely thrilled with her excursion. In fact, in the first cave, the ranger asked for volunteers to identify the formations on the wall. After several incorrect answers from the other tourists, Clara bravely raised her hand and said, "Those are fossils." She was right. That's my good little geologist.

Other than those long and painful hours--and later than night when my dad melted the anti-reflective coating on his glasses while cooking foil dinners, which he hates to make and which I also requested ("Seriously," he said, "I could sautee the same ingredients in a pan with the same taste and a lot less effort")--we had a pretty good trip. Jonathan and Clara loved hiking and exploring, and Jonathan in particular was always happy to sit on a bench and watching the rushing water in the creek. Megan is always great fun to be around, and my parents are great about making things enjoyable and fun for their offspring. Plus, my mom will do just about anything for a legitimate excuse to make S'Mores. Seriously, she's an absolute fiend.

I'm really glad we went camping, especially since I don't see myself (at this point) becoming much of a Missouri camper--unless I somehow come to grips with relentless humidity, chiggers, and not having actual mountains to camp in. I miss the arid West already (but am pleased to report that we seem to have largely replaced mosquitoes and hornets with fireflies).

~~~~~~
I like this picture, because even though I have no makeup on and am really quite filthy, I look deceptively slim. I could show you some more accurate pictures, but I won't (like the one of me hiking downhill with Jonathan, which Jeremy took from a vantage point below me, despite the fact that I have told him countless times to never take pictures of me from below when I'm pregnant).


I like this picture because it is classic Meg-man. Love it.




Jonathan and Clara were perpetually sticky the entire time. My mom is the kind to wipe messy children down; we are the kind to reduce stickiness by covering it with dirt and dust.




And I had to end with this one, because I couldn't decide whether I liked this one or the opening photo most. They're a good-looking pair, those two!

While the cat's away...

It's Jeremy's first full day at work (though he won't be an "official" employee until mid-August). Nevertheless, we're missing him on his first big day away and want to keep him posted on our activities while he's gone. In the last hour, we've gone on a walk (with much crying and whining; the kids also seemed unhappy), and done a little bit of city building and piano playing:




Why Clara seems largely incapable of keeping her eyes open or looking at the camera in a picture is beyond me, but we only had one shot.

In other news, we're starting to feel more settled after our first week in Missouri. House pictures to come (so look forward to that, Mom!).