Thatcher's home birth

I started having contractions about 3 weeks before Thatcher was due-- but they always died out after a couple of hours, and never built up to anything more than uncomfortable. The hard ones would wake me up several times every night... and just as I was getting excited thinking it might be real labor they would go away completely. Very frustrating. The day before Jacob's birthday I was really tired of my ongoing labor, and asked my midwife Wendy to sweep my membranes (if you don't know what that is-- go ahead and google it...I don't want to get too technical :) ) in hopes that it would kickstart my labor. I was dilated to a 1-2 and 50% effaced. I had more contractions, but nothing "real", until we went out for Jacob's birthday.

We walked around San Tan mall for a couple of hours and my contractions got harder. I was still in denial but Jacob thought it might be labor this time. We went home to watch West Wing and see what happened... and the second my butt touched the couch my contractions stopped all together. The same thing happened on and off for the next 3 days, and on Tuesday I went back in to Wendy and asked her to do another membrane sweep. I'd never had such bad "false" labor before, and it was exhausting. I doubted I'd know when I was in "real" labor until I was pretty far advanced... which ended up being true. So I went in Tuesday morning, and when Wendy checked me I was dilated to a 4 and 70% effaced. I was so happy-- at least all of that prelabor was doing something! I had always been in active labor by the time I was dilated to a 2, and had an epidural by the time I was a 4, so I had a feeling that this baby was going to come really fast when it was time. Wendy asked if I wanted to try castor oil to speed things up. She thought that it would probably put me into labor that night, so of course I was all for trying it.

I went home and did 2 doses of castor oil, at 11:00 and 12:00. I felt my normal contractions start up again around 1:00, but nothing serious. The castor oil wasn't a big deal for me like I'd heard it would be. A couple of not-so-pleasant trips to the potty, but that was it. At 2:30 my contractions were 3 minutes apart, but I was sitting on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy with Angie (I just had to breathe more deeply when I got one)-- still very comfortable. I called Wendy just to be sure, and she said to call her back in 30 minutes or when I couldn't watch tv through them anymore. Jacob came home from work, and I had him call Wendy around 3:15 when I got my first few contractions that were hard enough to be true labor.

By 3:30 I knew we would be having a baby that night, though I wasn't having any problem relaxing and breathing through my contractions. They stayed about 3 minutes apart, and lasted about a minute. Wendy arrived at 3:45, and my contractions were building really fast. Each one was stronger than the last, and I started having some back-to-back ones with only a 30 second break. I tried laboring in the tub, in my bed, on all fours with my head on the bed, and finally found the postition I was most comfortable in-- sitting backwards on the toilet with a pillow on the tank. At 4:30 I was overwhelmed with how intense my contractions were, even though I'd only been laboring an hour. I didn't think there was any way I could handle that amount of pain for several hours more-- especially since I had heard that transition was so much harder than earlt labor, so I had Wendy check me to see what I was doing. She checked me, and I was at a 9! I had already made it through transition and I only had minutes, not hours, before I delivered my baby. I felt much more ready to tackle labor knowing I was so close, so I went back to the toilet to finish laboring. The next fifteen minutes were the most painful and intense minutes I've ever experienced, but it helped knowing it would be over soon. Suddenly in the middle of a contraction my body started bearing down and pushing all by itself. It scared me a little because I didn't know if it was time to push yet, but I couldn't stop it. I felt what I thought was his head coming down, but it was my bag of water. It exploded like a water balloon in the toilet, and his head followed quickly. I started panicking and telling Jacob (who was right behind me) that the baby was coming NOW, but I couldn't stop pushing until the contraction was over. Jacob kept telling me we needed to move so the baby wasn't born in the toilet, but I told him I had to wait-- my body wouldn't stop pushing. (all of this took only about a minute) As soon as the contraction let up Jacob helped me into the bathtub. I told him to get Wendy, who was out on the couch, but before he could even leave the bathroom my body started pushing again and Thatcher's head came out. I've heard horror stories about the "ring of fire" when a baby's head is born, but honestly those last few contractions hurt so much that I never even felt it. Jacob tore himself away for a second to yell "Wendy!" and run back to support Thatcher's head. Wendy (and Mom, Dad, Tiff, Layla, Paisley, Angie, Jess, and Jamie) came running in to the bathroom. Wendy told Jacob he was doing a great job and didn't look like he needed any help, and she checked for a cord warapped around Thatcher's head. (he did have it around once, but it was very loose) As soon as she unlooped it over his head, she told me I could push him out when I felt like it, so I gave my first voluntary push and out he came at 4:54! Only an hour and a half after my first real contraction!

It was such an incredible experience, and I know if we have another child we will do it at home again. It was so different from the rushed and hectic hospital birth experiences we've had before. I loved how laid-back Wendy was-- she just let everything happen on it's own. She checked on the baby periodically throughout labor, but left Jacob and I to labor alone like we wanted the majority of the time. She had all of the emergency equipment ready just in case, but none of it needed to be used. After he was born, I got to snuggle with my sweet baby boy, my husband, and our little girls on our couch instead of having to lie on a hospital bed. I wouldn't have changed a thing. <3

Double Trouble

I'm very VERY lucky to have 2 little girls who play together for hours. They are the best of friends, and despite the once-an-hour-spat that I have to break up, they will seriously play together in their room all morning long. Recently, however, we found that there is a downside to best-friend-sissies... and it's called teamwork.

Layla is a very obedient, sensitive little girl (despite the recent talking-back phase) so she obeys the rules because she doesn't want to get in trouble. What she DOESN'T mind, however, is when Paisley gets in trouble... so Layla has become the (other) little devil on Paisley's shoulder. Layla plans the operation, Paisley carries it out, and then Layla blames it on Paisley. It would be a perfect scam if she didn't have 2 semi-intelligent parents who figured out exactly what was going on. Here are some examples from the last week or so:

I walk out of my room when I realize it's been quiet for far too long. I find both girls sitting on the floor, sharing a leftover cup of Sonic ice cream that's been hijacked from the freezer. Paisley looks up and says "Hi Mommy." then returns to eating her ice cream. (Being in trouble has never phased her much) Layla, on the other hand, panicks at being caught, and shouts "Paisley got it out of the freezer! And look what she did to my (ice-cream-covered) hands!" Now I have no doubt that it WAS Paisley who got it out of the freezer, but I'm thinking she was not responsible for sticking her sister's hands in the cup and forcing her to eat some. Just a guess.

The next day, I saw Layla whisper in Paisley's ear, and then Paisley went directly to the freezer and opened it. I said, "What are you doing?!? Stay out of the freezer!" to which Layla replied "We're just getting ice for our water." Okay, plausible, and I would have believed her if she wasn't contradicted a second later by her little sister who said, "No, we-o yooking fo mo ice cweam!" My oldest little angel is now blatantly lying to stay out of trouble!

Yesterday, they were coloring at the kitchen table, but when the incessant chatter stopped for a full 5 minutes, I knew they had moved on to more devious activities. As I got up to investigate, Layla ran into my room (with a sticky face and strawberry breath) and said, "Mommy, come quick! Paisley got into the cereal bars!" I find Paisley still hiding under the kitchen table, surrounded by 4 perfectly opened, empty wrappers. Strange, because Paisley can't open cereal bar wrappers by herself. Stranger still, that Layla had waited until the precise moment that every last cereal bar was gone to come tattle. Then there was, of course, the strawberry cereal bar all over Layla's face, and the fact that even Paisley can't down 4 bars in less than 4 minutes.

These daughters of mine are getting to be a regular Bonnie and Clyde. Well, you know, if Bonnie and Clyde had been a little less murderous and a little more hungry for sweets.

Nature or Nurture?

So, I'm a list-maker. A completely obsessive one. I'm not sure that they actually help me stay more organized, but that's the idea. On my desk right now are at least 6 different lists, from what I need to make the girls' Halloween costumes to the chores I need to get done this week. I know it would be more helpful if I had a planner, or if I kept all of my endles lists online, but then I wouldn't have the satisfaction of crossing things off by hand...so I continue to kill trees to satisfy my own mania.

Yesterday I found out that either Layla has been watching my list-making frenzy, or she's inherited some of my crazy genes and can't help herself. She was in my room, supposedly napping, and when I came in to check her I found that she had hijacked my pen and wrote herself "lists" completely covering 5 sheets of paper. I especially like how she mimicked my disorganization... main list in the middle, smaller lists that I forgot earlier running down the sides and top, and then the circling and "relocation" of things that I ended up putting in the wrong spot or didn't have time for. That's my girl. :)

Whew, now that I got this done I get to cross off "blog about Layla's list" and move on to the next thing. :)

Nom Nom Nom

We always joke about Paisley's ever-present wedgie... so naturally we decided to draw a face on her bootie and take pictures. I don't see that we had any other choice.

Let's see, time for some random Mac girl memories over the last several weeks...

Layla has started calling herself "Yay-yuh" when referring to herself around Paisley or any other small child. "Yay-yuh will get you a drink... do you want water?" You know, like I call myself Mommy. I think she's old enough to move out and get her own place now.

Paisley pronounces the word "fancy" as "dancy"... as in, "Yook mommy, that pwetty dwess is so dancy!" Fairly appropriate actually.

The other (particularly stressful) day, after I was apparently being impatient with my children, Paisley lined up her stuffed animals and was lecturing them, "No whining! That's not nice! If yo whining you need to go to bed! It's yate! Go wite to bed and I'll see you in the mowning. No hitting yo sis-toe! You hafto shay-o yo toys!" At least I always have instant feedback on how I'm doing as a mother.

From Layla a few weeks ago; "I can't wait to be a mommy, so when I grow up I'm going to look for a boy..." (she pauses and looks at me--apparently I look like an emotional pregnant basketcase) "But... we don't have to talk about that right now."

Oh, and earlier that day Layla has been asking me about each kind of animal and whether it laid eggs like a chicken or had babies like mommy. (this pregnancy has been quite educational for her) After the zillionth animal she asked about, she concluded "So... it seems like animals that have fur have their babies like people, and animals without fur lay eggs." Sometimes she's so smart it's scary.

I'll end with a quote from me: "We don't put beetles in our panties." While this is one of those truths which I held to be self-evident, it wasn't at the time. Well, it sort of was, in that WE did not put beetles in our panties. In the long, long list of things I never thought I'd say... that one ranks near the top.

Random cute things my kids have done lately...

Time goes to warp speed when you're a parent, and I've let way too many adorable sayings go by without writing them down. Anything not etched in stone is bound to get lost in the meandering maze of my mommy-brain, so, alliteration aside, here a few of the things I haven't forgotten yet.

Paisley and Layla both called bananas "mee-maws" when they were little...Paisley has now switched to calling them "ba-mee-maws"

Paisley has started fixing her L's, which is heartbreaking. She now, with obvious effort, calls her sister Layla instead of "Yay-yuh" :(

Both girls are absolutely obsessed with their baby brother (or "baby bru-dough Thatch-oh" as Paisley calls him) They love hugging and kissing my belly, playing with his diapers and tiny clothes, and asking lots of questions about him. Layla is really excited to see him be born, and after countless youtube videos of women giving birth at home, she's all prepped for the big day.

Both girls are ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED with books. They wake up around 6:30-7:00, but they don't get up until around 7:30. Until then I can hear Paisley "reading" in her bed over the monitor. It probably adds up to 3 hours a day of reading, sometimes more. Luckily for me most of that is on their own...there are only so many times I can read the same book without going insane. (which must be completely baffling to them-- the more the better!)

Today when I got out of the shower Paisley informed me that I had a nice bootie and boobies. Apparently someone has been spending too much time around Daddy. This was refreshing after the many, many less...uh, positive remarks about my birthday suit. (wow, you have a big bootie mommy!, mommy, you look weird!, ha ha, I see yo boobies!) Motherhood can be hard on one's self-esteem. After Paisley's encouragement, both girls started following me around asking lots of detailed questions, which led to some speed-dressing on my part.

I have many more to add, but it's hard to remember the sweet, adorable things your children have done recently when they're fighting and arguing while whining and begging for lunch. I'll add more...eventually.


*New quote from Layla*
"Mommy, you won't have to take care of baby brother-- we'll do that. You will have to milk him though, because our boobs aren't big enough."

She also informed me that when she gets older she will be marrying Josh (Clark)...though that was only after I explained to her that she couldn't marry her cousin Brayden. Sorry Josh, second choice is still pretty good.. :)

Sometimes I wish my daughter wasn't so smart (or curious)...

I always said I'd be completely open with my kids...if they were old enough to ask, I would tell them whatever they wanted to know. Little did I know my first child would be ridiculously intelligent with an insatiable need to understand EVERYTHING in her world.

Sometimes it was just a little uncomfortable for me, like when she asked about periods at 2 1/2 in a public bathroom. No big deal, but I wasn't exactly prepared with a speech. We covered the basics, and I explained what tampons were and why mommy needed them sometimes. (and no, mommy wasn't putting them in her bootie-- can you please use your quiet voice?!?)

Sometimes I was proud of her thirst for knowledge, like when she wanted to know how babies got out of tummys at age 3. It would have probably scared the wits out of a ten year old, but at 3 she just said, "Oh, they come out of va-jay-jays. I wondered how they came out." Though of course it didn't end there, because she has to think through everything until it makes perfect sense to her, so she came back a minute later and asked if it hurt the baby to come out that way. Did it hurt the mommy? Was there blood? How does the baby eat and drink while it's inside? How does it breathe? ...I was impressed with her reasoning, and not uncomfortable with the subject matter so we talked all about it-- she's probably more informed on the matter than most pre-teens are.

Which lead a few months later with a subject that made me break my own rule of "if they're old enough to ask..." How babies are made. I gave the generic answer, that it takes a mommy and a daddy. Of course that wasn't enough for her, and she asked, "But HOW?" So I told her that Daddy had a seed and Mommy had an egg, and when they were put together a baby was made. (Again, I didn't have a speech prepared about sex for my three year old.) Still not happy with the answer, she asked, "WHERE are the seed and egg?" Uh....In Mommy and Daddy's bodies. (not done yet) "Well how does Daddy get his seed to Mommy's egg?"...which is where I cut it off and broke my rule. I told her that we'd talk more about it when she got a little older. I was actually fine with going the whole nine yards, but I didn't really want her telling all of her friends things they didn't need to know and probably had never thought about. Yikes.

Lately her inquisitive mind has brought us both to tears... like when she heard that sea turtles live longer than humans. She thought about that for a while, and then asked how long humans lived. I told her about 100 years. She said, "You mean I'm going to die?" (tears begin here-- for both of us) I tried to tell her that she had a LONG LONG time before she needed to think about that, which made her realize that I was older than her, which made her ask if I was going to die. Ugh. I felt a huge temptation to tell her no, that we would both live forever and our lives would be filled with candy and puppies and laughter... but she's too smart to fall for that, and I don't want to shield her from life, I just want to hold her while she finds out the bad things. Well that's a lie. At that moment I very much wanted to shield her, but I didn't. I told her that all people die, but they live a LONG LONG time, and they get to be babies, then kids, then teenagers, then mommies, then grandmas, then great-grandmas.... and we agreed that she could start worrying about people dying when she turned 40. Unfortunately I'm sure she'll hear soon about a child or mommy dying, and we'll have to talk about that... but the fact that people die at all was enough sadness for one day.

Which brings us to our most recent conversation (about an hour ago), where she, at almost 4, figured out that not all mommies and daddies stay married to each other. It began out of the blue-- I think Shrek was on in the car, but obviously her little mind was somewhere else. "Mommy, Papa is your Dad and Grammy is your mom, right?" I told her of course, she's known that for years. "But who is Grammy's husband?" she asked. I told her she knew who Grammy's husband was, but I could already see where she was going with this. "Well, Grandpa Dennis is Grammy's husband, but shouldn't Papa be? Grandpa Dennis isn't your dad." she told me. I took a moment deciding how to procede with this... I really have no excuse for not having thoughts prepared on every subject matter imaginable by now-- I should know she's going to ask, but somehow she keeps catching me unprepared. I decided she'll know kids with divorced parents soon enough, so I might as well tell her. I told her that Grammy and Papa were married, and they had Aunt Fifi and me, but then they decided they didn't want to be married anymore, so they got a divorce. Lots of years later, Grammy married Grandpa Dennis. I told her that some married people didn't stay married forever, then I reassured her that mommy and daddy loved each other very,very much and we would always be married. She asked, "You mean we'll always be a family?" (thanks to pregnancy I'm tearing up at this point) and I told her "Mommy PROMISES. I will always love your daddy, and we will always be a family. Mommy and Daddy are never, EVER getting a divorce." To which she replied, "Oh, okay." and happily began singing along with Shrek. I'm glad she recovered so well, but I need a nap. :)

I'm obviously a committed blogger.

My second-to-last post was about my daughter turning three...and in 3 months she'll be four. I definitely need to get on the ball here. How about a quick overview of the past 6-8 months? I'll assume you just said, "Why yes, please! Fill us in!" :) Okay, since you asked... Layla turned 3, the girls became playmates (yay!), we got pregnant and miscarried :( , we went to San Fran for Christmas and had a great time with Jacob's family and the Hacketts, we came back and got pregnant again (woo-hoo!-- EDD is Oct. 7th), Paisley grew up (seriously-- it was like overnight. She started talking in sentences, listening to her parents, stopped getting in trouble, learned her colors/shapes/letters/numbers...I think she was just ready to be a big sister).... I think those are all of the highlights. Coming soon: Paisley turns 2, Mommy turns 28, Angie graduates highschool, and Layla turns 4!

Okay, now that we're all caught up, I'm going to try to blog once a week. Ha.