Thursday, November 29, 2012

Media Card Memory Lane

So this thing happened.

I have a Blackberry (I know, I know. Blackberries are so not cool anymore, but you know what? I don't really care. It calls people, and that's all I really need out of a cell phone). The 'ole Blackberry has a camera, and sometimes I use it to take pictures.

(I'm so with the times! I take cell phone pictures! Woot!)

(But they are really blurry and low quality).

(Whatever).

So anyway... the thing...

The Blackberry has a media card where it stores pictures. Well, a while ago, the phone said, "Hey! Your media card is full, so I will now store pictures on the camera."

I was like, "Whatever you say, Phone."

And then lo and behold, all of my pictures were gone. Trapped in Media Card Land! And I don't know how to get to Media Card Land. I spent all of ten seconds googling solutions before I said, "Meh!" and moved on with my life.

That was about nine months ago.

Then on Sunday, I tried opening my photos to show my friend how Nicky got his leg stuck in his bike last week:

Blackberry

Well, the photo wasn't there, but all of the photos from the media card were!

And frankly, I have no idea how that happened, but I was so excited because, despite my "Meh!"-ing, I was really sad I lost all of those pictures.

But Britt, why didn't you just put those pictures on your computer to allow space on your media card?

Psht! As if I know how to do that!

So now all of my photos are back, and I did some voodoo work and figured out how to e-mail them to myself so I can save them for-evah and evah on the internets.

But Britt, how did you get that picture of Nicky's leg stuck in the bike when you specifically said it wasn't there?

It was on facebook.

So I'm thrilled to have those photos back, and to celebrate this momentous occasion, I am going to force you to look at some of my favorites. Consider this a walk down Media Card Memory Lane.

Oh, look! Here's the day Daisy started potty training (aka: August 9, 2011).

Blackberry

As you can see, she grasped on to the concept immediately.

Ahem...

Needless to say, she is still working on it... a year and a half later... 

Let's not talk about it.

Speaking of Daisy, it's amazing what that girl can do. Her artistic abilities surpass those of most children her age.

Blackberry

Blackberry

Or something like that.

Sometimes she can be really cute.

Blackberry

Blackberry

Blackberry

Blackberry

And sometimes she even sleeps!

Blackberry

Blackberry

Blackberry

And so does Nicky.

Blackberry

Blackberry

Sometimes I take my kids out in public. Like to the zoo.

Blackberry

 Or to the dentist.

Blackberry

 Or Bingham Copper Mine.

Blackberry

 Or Wheeler Farm.

Blackberry

Or even rock climbing.

Blackberry

When we're feeling really adventurous, Scotty and I take the kids to Disneyland. That means we give Daisy pretty much anything she wants to keep her from screaming her head off in the back seat of the car for 12 hours.

Blackberry

Blackberry

Often, there are huge catastrophes when we are out in public.

Hey Daisy, you have a little sumthin' sumthin' on your lips. What have you been eating?

Blackberry

Oh, worms from Walmart! No big deal!

Blackberry

We have a lot of fun when we're not eating invertebrates. We take baths in the back yard.

Blackberry

We play with balloons.

Blackberry

We play dress-up.

Blackberry

Blackberry

And we get breathing treatments when we have pertussis.

Blackberry

And now that we have another little sister, we put gel in her hair.

Blackberry

Okay, okay. So that last one isn't from Media Card Land, but I had to sneak Zoe in here somewhere.




Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Time's a Flyin'

Why does it go like this?

Baby in the womb = time draaaaaaags

Baby out of the womb = Oh my heck! I almost have a one-month-old!!!

I've been feeling rather antsy lately about getting things documented. This phase of sweet newborn-ness is so short, and I want to remember it. I started working on writing Zoe's birth story (my journal version, not the internet version which you can find here), and every beautiful moment flowed freely through my brain, but then I got about half-way, and I haven't had the time to sit down and finish it. I know that I've already lost some of it. My hormones are getting more and more settled each day, and the details of giving birth aren't as available. I also wanted to write, in detail, about the first two weeks of Zoe's life - how blessed and incredible that time was as well as how trying it was. Sick kids, water heater going out, gigantic snowstorms, sibling rivalry, psychotic emotional breakdowns - all that good stuff that only seemed survivable because I had a little baby looking up at me like:

November 2012 

Ugh!

And pictures? Oh my goodness! I haven't taken nearly enough - a true sign of having a THIRD child. Almost every snap shot I have of Zoe is a blurry cell phone photo. 

Since time is flying by, and chances are, I'm not going to get to write everything down that I want to, here are a few sloppy highlights.

Daisy loves Zoe so much that I fear for Zoe's safety. She is the most smothered little sister of all time. The novelty has not worn off! Daisy wants to feed her, clothe her, hold her, burp her, change her diaper, bathe her, and pay her hospital bills. (Okay, maybe not that last one). Daisy will lay on top of her, pick her up and carry her, and feed her anything she can get her hands on when I'm not looking. I have to keep the baby within arms reach at all times.

November 2012

November 2012

November 2012

One of Daisy's favorite things to do for Zoe is to make sure that she has "friends."

November 2012

Zoe

November 2012

Nicky adores Zoe, too, but in a much different way. Mostly from afar. He will wave to her, talk to her, and make sure she isn't cold. He is very sweet and very "hands off" most of the time. You can tell, though, by the way he looks at her, that he adores her. Nicky has made some of the most hilarious comments since we had Zoe. I wish I could remember all of them. "Why does Zoe hibernate?" is the one that comes to mind. Zoe wore jeans one day, and Nicky said that he didn't like her clothes because they made her look like a kid instead of a baby. He often asks me why Zoe has such a big head. Yes, her head is in the 90th percentile, but it doesn't really look that big, so I don't know where he gets that from. 

Both Nicky and Daisy think that any day now, Zoe will be able to sit up, crawl, walk, or eat "real" food. I explain to them that she will learn to do those things while she's growing. They always think that means she will do those things tomorrow

Scotty is smitten by Zoe as well. Zoe made it eleven whole days before coming down with a cold, and Scotty has been very helpful taking night shifts holding Zoe upright to help her breathe.

Our car is certainly overcrowded. There is not an inch to spare! I dream of a mini van (no, really, I do) so the poor kids can have some space to breathe. BUT I love my car, and I'm going to keep it for a while longer. The biggest problem is that Zoe has to go in the middle, and that puts her next to Daisy, which is just plain dangerous. Daisy won't leave her alone in the car, and Nicky spends every drive we make yelling things like, "Mom! Daisy is covering Zoe's mouth!" "Mom! Daisy is touching Zoe's eyeballs!"

Seriously, folks? I should never leave the house. It's just not safe!

So... mini van. I needs one!

Well, that's about it for now. I didn't get to share everything I wanted, but I'm running behind in getting Nicky ready for school. Daisy is finger painting on the kitchen table with yogurt, and Zoe is laying in a pile of spit-up. 

I will leave you with my quick analysis of life with three kids:

There are always at least two that need you at any given time, and at least one of them is expressing that need in some form of screaming. 



Monday, November 26, 2012

Mothering and the Book of Mormon: Lessons from Lehi Part I

As I began reading the Book of Mormon near the end of my pregnancy, I found myself more caught up in the story of Lehi, Nephi, and their family than I've ever been. I've always known there is a lot to learn from their family, but in reading their story this time, I found myself more emotionally connected to their experiences. I even shed a few tears, something I'm usually far too hard-hearted to do. Because of some personal trials I've faced this year, I feel like I can sympathize (and maybe even empathize) a lot more with the emotions and struggles of Lehi's family (though, thankfully, I haven't been asked by God to leave my home and roam in the wilderness).

One thing that surprised me is how much there is to learn about mothering from Lehi. Sure, he never was a mother, but he worried over his children, he dealt with defiance and discontent, and he even spent a few moments murmuring (not that I would ever do that. Wink, wink!)


I noticed throughout Lehi's story that he always shared his personal, spiritual experiences with his children. As he prophesied, received revelation, and had dreams, he would gather his family together to talk to them about the things that he learned. 1 Nephi 1:16 mentions that Lehi "hath written many things which he saw in visions and in dreams; and he also hath written many things which he prophesied and spake unto his children..."

Because of this, Lehi's son, Nephi, desired to know for himself that the things his father taught were true. Through prayer and revelation, Nephi gained his own, personal witness of God the Father (1 Nephi 2:16).

Later in the Book of Mormon, Enos, like Nephi, gained a testimony of God through prayer. Enos was taught the nature of God and eternal life by his father, and those things "sunk deep into [his] heart" (Enos 1:4). When Enos poured his soul unto God, his faith "began to be unshaken in the Lord" (Enos 1:11).

This is a pattern that we can follow in our own families - a joint effort by fathers and mothers. In our most recent general conference, L. Tom Perry said:

I believe it is by divine design that the role of motherhood emphasizes the nurturing and teaching of the next generation. But it is wonderful to see husbands and wives who have worked out real partnerships where they blend together their influence and communicate effectively both about their children and to their children.

As women and mothers, we have the opportunity to experience many sacred things. While some of these experiences should be held private, it is often appropriate to share them with our spouses and children. Even though the scriptures don't mention it specifically, I am sure that Sariah, like Lehi, spoke to her children of sacred things. I think of when Sariah declared that she knew "of a surety" that the Lord had commanded her husband to take her and her children out of Jerusalem and into the wilderness and that He had protected her sons and provided a way for them to follow the commandments (1 Nephi 5:8). Certainly there were many other things Sariah knew of a surety and taught her children.

Right now my kids are quite young, but there are some small, tender experiences that I can share with them to help them see God's hand in our lives. I can tell them about answers I receive to prayers or about the times I am comforted by the Holy Ghost. As I point out these occurrences in my life, it will help my children to identify similar experiences of their own. Hopefully they, like Nephi or Enos, will eventually have the desire to seek after their own witness.

...Parents can share their testimonies often with their children, commit them to keep the commandments of God, and promise the blessings that our Heavenly Father promises to His faithful children.

-L. Tom Perry

--------------------------------------------------

This post is part of my series, "Mothering and the Book of Mormon." To learn more about why I am writing this series, please read this. To learn more about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, check out Mormon.org or LDS.org.

Did you know you can request a Book of Mormon for free? No joke! See here.

I'll even send you one if you want. Marginalia included.

You can e-mail me: 

{fluentbrittish [at] gmail [dot] com}

I won't even try to baptize you!

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Turkey Thoughts

The other day, a friend and I were having some Thanksgiving conversation when I confessed to her that I am 28 years old and have never cooked a turkey. I picked the right friend to tell because she replied with, "So? I'm 38, and I've never cooked a turkey!"

(Phew! Apparently there are many of us!)

This year, I was determined to roast a turkey because I have this fear that someday the survival of the world will depend on my ability to do so.

While I am a fan of devouring large masses of Thanksgiving poultry, I haven't been looking forward to the preparation. I bought my bird on Friday, and following the "one day in the fridge for every five pounds" thawing method, I was scheduled to roast the thing today. I actually had this moment earlier where I thought, "Meh. I don't need to roast that stupid turkey!" But then I remembered that it cost about $15, and I'm a tight wad, so I couldn't just throw away fifteen bucks! But then I was like, "Britt? Would you pay $15 for the opportunity to sit on the couch for two hours and hold your baby and not cook?" and then I was like, "Heck yes, I would!" So turkey loss? Totally justified.

But I roasted the darn thing anyway, because THE WORLD NEEDS ME, and I had a few thoughts about it.

Thought #1: Turkey carcasses are freaky.

Thought #2: Fishing giblets out of turkey carcasses is freaky.

Thought #3: The turkey neck was more curvy that I expected, making me worry that I accidentally purchased and roasted a swan.

Thought #4: My entire kitchen is saturated in contaminated turkey fluids.

Thought #5: I don't like meat that still looks like the creature it came from.

But I survived, and the turkey was mostly awesome. I might even do it again someday.

Like, in a year. Or ten. Or when the world is hanging by a thread, and my turkey-roasting skills, alone, have the ability to save it.

Until then, I will be airing the smoke out of my kitchen.

(It helps to have a clean oven, I guess).

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Evolution of a Collage

Last year I hung a photo collage in our family room. On my old blog, I did a Brittish Home Tour and took a picture of the collage. Earlier this year, I swapped out all of the photos. Then I went and had a new kid, so today I swapped out the photos again, and I was like, "I should totally take pictures before and after the swap so I can have a photographic progression of the photo collage!"

So I did.

And trust me, it was a lot cooler in my head.

But since I went through the effort, here is how the collage has changed in the past year and a half:

{April 2011}
Family Room Tour

{April 2012}
November 2012

{November 2012}
November 2012


Thursday, November 15, 2012

Mothering and the Book of Mormon: What Motherhood Means to Me

Each time Heavenly Father entrusts me with another child, I feel an overwhelming desire to live up to the responsibility that I've been given. Approaching the birth of Zoe, my third baby, I felt a pressing need to step it up as a mother. President Gordon B. Hinckley, speaking specifically to mothers, said:

You have given birth and nurtured children. You have entered into a partnership with our Father in Heaven to give mortal experience to His sons and daughters. They are His children and they are your children, flesh of your flesh, for whom He will hold you responsible... You have nothing in this world more precious than your children. When you grow old... and meditate on the things of your life, nothing will be so important as the question of how your children have turned out. 

President Hinckley's words ring true in my heart. I want to do the best I can for the special spirits that He has placed in my care.

In the Doctrine and Covenants, we are taught that, "Whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection." (D&C 130:18) Sister Julie B. Beck expounded on this scripture and taught that "the value women place on motherhood in this life and the attributes of motherhood they attain here" are included in those principles of intelligence.

For me, raising children is not a casual duty. Though I am consistently imperfect at it, I take motherhood and parenting very seriously - it is the most important thing I have ever done. I don't have all of the right answers, but I am always learning and growing. In fact, I can't think of anything that has the potential to bring me closer to the Savior than fulfilling my role as a mother. Since the knowledge I gain through this experience will be with me eternally, I want to soak in as much as I can.

When I reached my 30th week of pregnancy, I took some time to write out some goals and dreams that I have as a mother. Some of my goals are character-based - habits, attributes, and behaviors that I want to have. Others are priority-based - things I want to invest more time and effort into. I also took some time to think about some of the challenges that my family was facing and how they would affect us as we brought a new baby into our lives. I had a lot of concerns, and I felt like I really needed an anchor. As I prayed about my goals and my worries, I felt prompted to turn to the Book of Mormon. At the time, I had been trying really hard to read the New Testament, and I felt like I couldn't stop my study and change courses, but the prompting kept coming back to me. I ended up marking my spot in the New Testament and setting it aside to read the Book of Mormon. As I did so, I decided to look specifically for lessons that pertain to motherhood. Nephi taught that we should liken the scriptures unto us for our profit and learning (1 Nephi 19:23). I thought this would be a good way to "liken" the scriptures and apply them in a way that I needed.

As I studied the Book of Mormon, I wrote a few blog posts about some of the things I learned (mostly for selfish purposes, because I know I will need to look back and re-learn these things over and over again). I'll be posting them throughout the next several weeks with plenty of Zoe, funny stories, and whining in between.

Monday, November 12, 2012

On Characters

Lately I've been thinking a lot about my opinion of books. I have a really hard time reviewing books because there are so many random variables that determine whether I like one.

For instance, if I expect to dislike a book, and the book ends up being better than I anticipate, I tend to give it more praise. If I have high expectations for a book, and it ends up not being as good as I hoped, I tend to be more critical.

Likewise, my taste for a book is affected by what I read before it. I can not read The Poisonwood Bible and follow it up with Clockwork Angel.

"Do you know the feeling when you start reading a book before the membrane of the last one has closed behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes - characters even - caught in the fibers of your clothes, and when you open the new book, they are still with you."
-Diane Setterfield

However; I think a book can still be enjoyable even if the author has tacky, redundant diction. A good plot is usually a redeeming feature. But there are times when I crave beautifully crafted passages and skilled word use. I want to read a paragraph and soak it in, re-live it, remember it. I am always thrilled when an author is able to take something I have felt or experienced and put it into the words that I never could. Recently I read a book by Ann Packer in which she described the way a shirt smells while it's being ironed, and she nailed it in such a way that I couldn't wait to experience it again, myself. That is a true gift - to be able to make your readers want to iron!

The characters, though, are what ultimately make or break a book for me. By the end of a book, I want to feel confident in my understanding of them. I want to know their hearts. I feel like, more often than not, characters in books are inconsistent and "all over the place," and I never really come to know who they are. This is the case (for me) with Ender Wiggin - I was never able to connect with Ender or to come to understand him.

It helps if I come to "appreciate" a character. Good characterization, to me, means that I care what happens to the characters, whether they are likable or not.

I recently borrowed a book from a friend called Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg. The book is about a woman whose best friend is fighting terminal breast cancer. I don't mean to be irreverent toward cancer in any way, but because of the type of characters that were in the book, I didn't care that one of them was dying. In fact, the longer she lived, the more frustrated I became with the book because I was ready to move on. I didn't like the characters, nor did I "appreciate" them, so I didn't shed any tears on their behalf.

Yes, I am made of stone.

(Also, please note that Talk Before Sleep is NOT a grandma-friendly book, and I'm actually kind of shocked that my friend lent it to me knowing what a prude I am).

Some of my favorite characters are from Les Miserables by Victor Hugo and The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

First, Jean Valjean - he is the ultimate awesome character. He was convicted for stealing bread to feed his sister's children.

Nobility!

Honor!

Blurred lines between right and wrong inflicted upon him through the suffering of others!

Gasp! It's wonderful!

Jean Valjean was to serve five years in prison but ended up serving nineteen after four attempted escapes. Prison hardened his heart and roughened him so that, upon his release, he took advantage of Bishop Myriel's kindness by stealing some silver. Bishop Myriel forgave Jean Valjean and told him, "...there will be more joy in heaven over the tears of a repentant sinner than over the white robes of a hundred good men."

Sigh.

Then later, Bishop Myriel told Jean Valjean, "Forget not, never forget that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man."

So Jean Valjean spent the rest of his days redeeming himself for the wrongs he had committed. Deep down, he really was an honest man. The problem was, he never stopped running from the law, which made him... dun, dun, dun... dishonest.

Which brings me to another amazing character, Inspector Javert.

This is where the word "appreciate" becomes significant because you have to hate Javert - he makes life difficult, and he won't cut anyone a break. But you also have to "appreciate" him because he is so consistent, and he never wavers. The thing about Javert is that he is so caught up in the letter of the law, that he can't look beyond  past offenses. Anytime you start to think that Javert will change, he shocks you by continuing to be Javert.

That is what I love about him.

Javert is so true to himself that he would rather die than refuse to hold up the law.

(By the way... SPOILER ALERT!)

(But seriously, you can't go through life without knowing the story of Les Mis).

I won't, however, spoil The Book Thief for you.

But I will tell you about Rosa Hubermann because she is a solid, quality character.

Rosa is a tough old bat. She takes in Leisl Meminger as a foster child, and for a while you think Leisl is going to be the next Cosette, but...

Rosa has more to her - things I can't tell you because I promised not to ruin the book.

But I "appreciate" her and her foul German tongue (otherwise known as "the art of saumensching").

Aside: here is an illustration of Leisl that my friend Apryl drew in my book while she was riding in a car (forgive my terrible scanning job):

Leisl 

The best character in The Book Thief, though, is Death. Oh! The things I could tell you about Death.

But I won't...

"You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. It suffices to say that at some point in time, I will be standing over you, as genially as possible. Your soul will be in my arms. A color will be perched on my shoulder. I will carry you gently away."
-Death

Finding characters that I love so much is a rare joy. There are a lot of Enders out there, but only a few Rosa Hubermanns. 

Are there any characters you've fallen in love with?

"I will go to my grave in a state of abject endless fascination that we all have the capacity to become emotionally involved with a personality that doesn't exist."
-Berkeley Breathed




Saturday, November 10, 2012

Goo Gone Wrong

After having the baby, Thursday and Friday were my first "mostly normal" days. Scotty went to work, Nicky went to school, I went grocery shopping... all of that. While I was at the store on Thursday, I bought some Borax and glue, thinking it would be a good activity for the kids to make homemade goo/flubber/gak on Friday.

So Friday came, and I decided to be Super Mom and make the goo while assembling a lasagna for dinner, like, way before dinner time.

I gave my kids a little pep talk wherein I outlined the Rules of Goo:

Rule #1: The goo can not leave the kitchen!

Rule #2: Don't get goo all over the place!

It turns out, I wasn't specific enough with Rule #2 because Daisy decided it would be so super funny to put the goo in her hair whilst I stirred pasta sauce.

 Hair Goo

It happened RIGHT at that crucial moment where the noodles had 8 seconds left to boil, and the sauce was starting to POP all over the stove, and I needed to produce a colander and a lid simultaneously.

I couldn't tend to Daisy right away, so I grumbled and whined for a second, then turned my back on her and finished cooking. 

While I was cooking, Daisy fetched a fit because she wanted the goo out of her hair "RIGHT NOW!" She ended up throwing herself on the kitchen floor and falling asleep.

And because Nicky can't just sit back peacefully and watch a disastrous situation unfold, he strung goo all over the backs of the bar stools and down his shirt. Not to mention the splats all over the microwave, counter, and floor.

(Seriously?!? What is so hard to comprehend about Rule #2?)

Two hours later, Daisy woke up like this...

Hair Goo

Hair Goo

All I can say is GOO?!? NEVER AGAIN!!!

(And thank heaven for Google because I wouldn't have thought to rinse Daisy's hair in vinegar, and she likely would have ended up with a shaved head. That was one nasty mess!)

Friday, November 9, 2012

Meeting Zoe

For a whole week, we've been a family of five.

More Zoe
{Minus Scotty}
After nine long months of insisting that I would not be induced, I scheduled an induction for Friday, November 2 (the day after my due date). I agonized over this decision, but as soon as I made the choice, I felt completely at peace.

(I'll tell the rest of that story another day).

On Friday morning, we dropped the kids off at their grandparents' house and snapped a quick "oops-almost-forgot" 40 weeks + 1 day photo:

Zoe
{40+1}
The problem with trying to take a picture in front of the in-laws' house is that there is usually a mischievous individual standing somewhere off to the side waiting to throw a tennis ball.

More Zoe
{Catch}
More Zoe
{Throw}
When we arrived at the hospital, I changed into my super sexy hospital gown and waited to meet my nurse. When I checked in, I overheard someone mention that my nurse was Lisa. I had prayed my entire pregnancy that I would have the "right" nurse, and as soon as I heard her name, I knew my prayers had been answered. I know it might sound silly, but when she walked in, I immediately thought, this is the nurse Heavenly Father picked for me. 

And she was great.

And she had just started her shift, so she was there the entire time.

The only thing that didn't work out well with Lisa was that she started the Pitocin and forgot to run it into my IV. So I hung out for 45 minutes thinking I would go into labor any second and then got up to go to the bathroom and noticed the tube just dangling freely. 

I forgave her, though.

From the time I was really induced, to the time I had the baby was about seven hours. Not too bad, in my opinion. Nicky took 24 and Daisy took 8, so I am ever improving.

As not to make this into a novel, here are a few memorable things about my labor:

  • I spent my painless time reading Son by Lois Lowry.
  • I laughed hysterically when my doctor broke my water, and I kept saying, "This is so disgusting!" Then every time I felt a gush of fluids, I'd squeal in horror.
  • I went to the bathroom no less than ten times before I had my epidural. I was actually excited to have a catheter because I was so sick of wheeling my IVs into the bathroom every 20 minutes. 
  • My doctor told me I could pee in the bed, and he'd never know. (I did not pee in the bed). (I think the doctor and the nurse were as sick of my peeing as I was).
  • When I got my epidural, the anesthesiologist hit a vein and the catheter filled with blood. He said that only happens 1% of the time, but I wasn't listening because he was talking during a contraction, so maybe he didn't say that at all. All I know is that I didn't die, so that's good. He had to put in a new cath, and since he had dosed the first one, he didn't dose the new one. Forty minutes later, I still couldn't talk through a contraction, so the anesthesiologist came back and gave me another dose. From then on, it was sweet, magical bliss!
  • We tried watching Robin Hood to pass the time, but the DVD player had no remote and no fast forward button. When we finally got to the episode we wanted, we couldn't turn the subtitles on (we watch everything with subtitles), so we gave up. (The episode ended up being about a woman in labor with a breech baby, and Little John had to turn the baby and deliver it. What are the odds that this is the episode we would have watched while I was in labor?)
  • My labor stalled for a while when I was dilated to a 4 (this tends to happen every time), but as soon as I hit a 5, it was smooth sailing right to 10. 
  • Scotty left me for a while so he could go to Costco and eat some pizza.
  • I had two epidural farts, but I decided to just pretend they didn't happen. 
  • When I started feeling a slight need to push, I called my nurse in and asked her to check me. I quietly explained that I either needed to push or fart. I figured that being honest about it would make it less awkward if I, indeed, needed to fart. It was push time! But I farted anyway.
(I think my censor is getting weaker with every baby I deliver).

I pushed for about ten minutes, and our baby was born at 8:52 p.m. Scotty told me we had a girl. The nurses laid her on my stomach and started wiping her clean. She was so big and healthy, and I noticed right away that she had fat rolls on her arms and legs. (Squee!)

More Zoe
{Thigh Rolls}
She also had a head of dark hair, which is oh so exciting!
More Zoe
{Daddy's Hairline}
She kept trying to push against me with her arms to lift her upper body to look around. She was quite fussy for the first hour, but she was an angel for the rest of the night. 

More Zoe
{Mom & Zoe}
We had a list of three possible girl names, but when I saw her, I didn't feel like any of those names fit her. It took us 24 hours to come up with something else, but we decided on Zoe Rose.

More Zoe
{Zoe Rose}
Nicky and Daisy came to meet Zoe right away. Scotty and I were so excited to see Daisy's reaction to a baby sister. Daisy fell in love immediately. She was so confident and proud to be a big sister!

More Zoe
{Big Sister Daisy}
Nicky played it cool, but he couldn't fool anyone. He was excited, too, and it didn't take him long to realize he is outnumbered.

We brought Zoe home on Sunday.

Bringing Zoe Home
{Going Home}
We are all doing great, and Zoe is a wonderful addition to our family. We are so blessed to have this little one in our lives. It's amazing how quickly a new baby fits in. It already feels like she has always been ours!