How I Love That Dirty Water

What a fantastic game! I spent chunks of it screaming into a pillow so I wouldn't wake the girls. Brent and I texted and called each other incessantly and when it came down to the final few pitches, my heart was pounding. As a true Red Sox fan, I never think a game is over until it is truly over. Near the end, Ireland wandered out of bed looking for Brent which is not uncommon. I decided to let her stay up and watch the game with me. She was eager to oblige:

 But seconds after they clinched the win, she was fast asleep:

Go Sox!

Acute Asthma Attack

Aye mi, where to start. Ireland's asthma has been incessant lately. Just as she'd finally recover from an attack I'd notice her wheezing again and within hours we'd be in the thick of it. This latest was by far the worst but as luck would have it, in the middle of the day. Asthma is notoriously worse at night but I was able to bypass the ER and whisk her into the instacare while Liesel was in school. 

Although she'd just had her rescue inhaler, the doctor took one listen to Ireland's lungs and immediately put her on the nebulizer. She couldn't even smile about the cool monster mask they gave her. 

A morning of not being able to breath left her pretty tired. Because this was such a bad attack, Brent and I decided to finally put Ireland on steroids. My own memories of the side effects of steroids have kept me from going down that road but we'd hit the point of no return. Poor Ireland was absolutely miserable and nothing was giving her even a modicum of relief. To keep an eye on her, I had her sleep with me. Her tiny body curled around my hugely round belly. I held her to me and could feel her heart practically beating outside her chest as it worked overtime to get oxygen into her system. Lately I don't sleep well anyway, but I really didn't sleep well as I ached for my little girl and all she was going through.

With three attacks in less than a month, we also decided it was time to have her seen by a specialist so we could discuss preventative treatment. I know that sounds simple, but it was a debacle of epic proportions! To have her seen by a specialist, she had to be referred by a pediatrician. Ireland's pediatrician is back in Illinois and she can't make a referral to an Iowa City doctor she doesn't know. So we had to get an appointment with a local pediatrician JUST to get the referral! Talk about a waste of time. The pediatrician passed along the referral to the Department of Pulmonology and they offered us an appointment... on December 31st. I worked hard to keep my voice calm as I told the nurse my poor little 3-year-old had 3 attacks in less than a month and they were going to make us wait another two and a half months until she could even be seen? Not okay. So I called around and discovered it's very difficult to find a doctor who is willing to work with an asthmatic under the age of 6. Finally I scored an appointment for... December 12th. Whatever, I'd take it.

As the nurse talked to  me about filling out paperwork and what I'd need for the appointment, I unabashedly begged her to keep us in mind if there was a cancellation. I told her even if it was the same day, I could get Ireland there in 30 minutes. She must have heard the desperation in my voice because she got us in today. Veni, vidi, vinci.

The only little problem is my little girl. She's so young, even the specialist isn't willing to do any testing to find the cause of her asthma. The doctor told me the reason they don't is because kids can develop new allergies. That explains why so many other doctors wouldn't even see Ireland in the first place! It became clear that the doctor was guessing at the cause of Ireland's asthma as much as I was. We did get some new prescriptions and a follow up appointment, but in the end we aren't much better off.

There are a lot of aspects about parenting that are hard but this one is unique. Due to my extensive research regarding health history on both my and Brent's side of the family, I know this comes solely through me. I just wanted to give my children blue eyes and full lips. When I see Ireland struggling to breath, I know without a doubt it's my fault. I'd give anything to take it all away and when I find myself making phone call after phone call with no result, I feel like a horrible mother. For now, there's simply nothing I can do and it's just a waiting game until this rears it's ugly head again.... Aye mi.

One Contrite Kid

This morning Brent was reminding the girls about their responsibilities to make their beds, tidy their rooms, brush their teeth, etc. Apparently this all rubbed Liesel the wrong way because she handed Brent this note:

Brent and I feel strongly about presenting a united front to the girls when it comes to matters of discipline. We don't tolerate sassing of any kind. Since Liesel was in such an independent mood, I let her have breakfast alone in her room. Perhaps a bit of contemplation was all she needed because after breakfast she handed Brent the following three notes:

That last one gets me. Whenever the girls make a bad choice and they've apologized, I always tell them something along the lines of "Let's try to have a better day" so we all move on. Usually I feel like those words dissipate into the air and are immediately forgotten but apparently they're getting through at least a little bit.

Although Liesel has her moments of testing our boundaries (which I understand is the norm for her age), she has an extremely tender heart. Those last three notes speak a lot more to her personality than the first one, for sure. I love that little girl!

Tidbits

With Brigitta down for a nap and me being in between projects, I decide to get down on the floor and play with Ireland a bit in her room. She handed me the toy microphone and I decided to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart in full-on diva mode. When I finished, Ireland looked at me quizzically, gently took the microphone away, and said, "Let's not play with this anymore." She didn't just put it away either! She shoved it to the very bottom of her toy bucket and covered it up with a bunch of stuffed animals. As of right now, the microphone has mysteriously disappeared. I guess forever's NOT gonna start tonight?

This was on the back of a card Liesel made for Brent. Even when he's not here he tries to take care of me. 

Liesel was campaigning to watch a movie after school but it was a Monday so I needed to feed the girls an early dinner and head over to dance. I said as much to Liesel and added that when she watches movies she just gets nasty to everyone. She's mean to her sisters, she snaps at me, she's reluctant to obey, and she always always drags her feet getting off the computer when her time is up. Frustrated that she was clearly losing this battle, Liesel defiantly sassed, "Mom, you're a liar" and I immediately saw RED!!! I sent her to her bed and waited a few minutes until I was calm enough to talk to her again (although I was still plenty ticked). I told her maybe we should find her another family... one that has a mom who doesn't mind being called a liar because I absolutely will not tolerate it. At that suggestion, Liesel burst into tears and sobbed, "But I like Daddy!" She was not winning points with me that day. When I called Brent to report her appalling behavior, he couldn't stop chortling.

When I saw this cartoon it really resonated with me. 

Whilst we eat breakfast, Liesel likes to look over the calendar, the menu, the mail, etc and ask me questions about it. I'd just updated our menu for October and she asked about various items and announced my O for oatmeal wasn't very clear... it looked more like a C. I told her I know I don't have the nicest handwriting and she said, "Maybe after school me and Ireland can show you how to make beautiful letters!"

The Red Sox clinched the AL pennant and are headed to the World Series which I excitedly relayed to the girls over breakfast. To ensure they know who they are, I often ask, "Are we Red Sox fans or Yankees fans?" to which Liesel and Ireland gleefully yell, "RED SOX!!!" Our Chicago-born daughter developed a cryptic smile at this point and I asked her directly, "Brigitta, are you a Red Sox fan?" She immediately blew a raspberry in my direction and I gasped. "No Brigitta! You are a Red Sox fan!!!" She laughed and again blew a raspberry at me as if to say her loyalties may just lay elsewhere where baseball is concerned. Please oh please let it be the Cubs and not the Yankees!

Story Time

The hours of 4-7pm are what's known as "the witching hour" around here. Everyone is overtired from a long day but it's not quite time to go to bed and there is SO much sibling conflict that absolutely, positively MUST be squeezed in before the sun goes down! After dinner, after bath, after telling the girls for the millionth time to brush their teeth and be sure to use toothpaste because their breath smells like a rotting, dead goat, it takes every ounce of will-power I have to make it to story time. In the past I've breezed past this and sent kids straight to bed after I call upon Ireland to say family prayer (her prayers are incredibly short). However, a few weeks ago Liesel's teacher sent home a Reading Log. Damn.

Now someone is keeping track of whether and how often I read to my kids. The goal is 2 books a day and once we do a full week, Liesel gets a sticker next to her name at school. She also gets tickets for the upcoming Halloween party. It's a dream for her, it feels like a public flogging for me. At the close of the witching hour I've been forced to ask Liesel and Ireland to pick out one book each. When we finish, I write down the date, the name of the book and my initials in Liesel's log. I don't want to do it. But I don't want my daughter to be sticker-less and ticket-less on my account and have to withstand the shame of appearing she comes from a broken home that doesn't care about literature. Oh the horror. So I reach deep into the dry well of energy I'm running on and find a way to read to my children at the close of the witching hour.

Over the past few weeks, Brigitta (who is always keen to be in on the fun) has impatiently stood on tiptoe and fussed to be put on my lap during story time. However, once she's there, she lunges for the book in one deft move of over-enthusiasm. I can't let her continually rip up the library books Liesel brings home from school (I've already taped up more than one). I can't hold her in one hand AND a book in the other very well on my disappearing lap. To be quite frank, I can't handle one more conflict as the very last shreds of my sanity fall away to reveal a mama who is raw from a long day. And at this point in this pregnancy, every day is a long day. I decided Brigitta just has to stay on the floor. She's clearly not old enough for story time. 

Tonight as I was YET AGAIN directing/cajoling/begging the girls to brush their teeth, I saw Brigitta wander into the room in my periphery. "Liesel! Use toothpaste! GIRLS!!!! Knock it off! Share the stool! Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln what is taking so long? Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Suddenly Brigitta was at my knees, grunting and impatiently stomping her feet to be held. I let out a sigh and picked her up and tried to mitigate a fight in the bathroom from my command post in the den. It wasn't until she waved something in my face that I relented and gave her a bit of my attention-- it was a book. Brigitta wanted her story time. 

The sweet innocence of my little girl asking me to carve out some time and space when I am the most exhausted, the most impatient, the most like a sham-of-a-mom caught me off guard and hit me to the core like a Mack truck. I decided to let Liesel and Ireland battle it out on their own in the middle bathroom and to Brigitta's delight, I opened the book and began to read. Her dimpled hands and chubby fingers were eager to help me turn the pages. She made a sound of surprise and pointed at one of the pictures as if she were shocked by the plot twist. When we finished, she opened it again. Just one more time Mom. So I read it again and relished a moment alone with this precious girl, our forget-me-not, who so desperately wanted to feel included and loved and read to. Tonight, it was the last bit of energy I had to give, but I gave it to Brigitta freely; the cacophony of a fight over who was taking up all the water echoing down the hall. 

Finding Happiness

My friend Audrey linked to this on Facebook and it made me so happy I had to share. Thanks Aud, you made my day!

Piper's Baptism Quilt

I frantically finished Piper's quilt so quickly I didn't have any time to take decent pictures or blog about it. My sweet so sweet sister Reagan had amazing photos taken and recently sent them to me so now I have a chance to record the thought process and symbolism I put into the quilt. I need to give absolute reverence to Debbie Lee who did the actual machine quilting on top of what I'd done and turned it from something that looked pretty good into a masterpiece. I'll be paying homage to her throughout this post. Ready? Here we go!

My modus operandi when quilting is to make it one of two sizes: large or huge. I've never been able to do a baby quilt or a lap quilt or a sampler or anything like that. It just seems so small and apologetic, I have to keep adding borders until it's bigger! I designed Piper's quilt to be just about a standard twin size which is actually pretty small for me. Given the time crunch, I was okay with it though-- especially given the method I used for quilting. To get exactly the effect I wanted, I decided to try my hand at needle-turn applique. Never mind the fact I'd never done needle-turn, let alone ANY kind of applique before. Still, this is my chosen (if insane) creative process and after viewing a couple of YouTube videos on the subject, I charged doggedly ahead. I ran out of supplies mid-project and had to make a stop at one of the many Amish quilting stores out this way. When I showed the shop ladies what I'd done they stared at me like I had lobsters growing out of my ears. All needle-turn? Yes, all needle-turn. One ventured to mention there was an easier way to do it. Yes, I could just machine applique it but this was a special project; something that was meant to be an heirloom.

When I visited Maryland during Spring Break, I took Piper to the local quilt store and let her pick out a fabric. I didn't tell her what I was going to do with it and I didn't direct her decision. She ended up choosing this gorgeous ombre purple. All of this was intentional because I find that's often how faith works. We do something not necessarily knowing the outcome. When it comes to living the gospel, the outcome is always more stunning than we could have imagined. With purple fabric in hand, I stumbled upon the ombre yellow fabric and the wheels in my head started spinning. I had images enlarged at the local copy store and then cut them out of thick plastic with an exacto knife. My intention is to use these templates over again when I make baptism quilts for my own daughters when they are of age. 

First of all, the quilt needed to have Piper's name on it. Not only does that keep it from getting stolen, but it's immediately more personal. Our Heavenly Father loves us and knows us by name so Piper's name is right there at the top. In looking at background fabrics, I found one with a flower pattern on it. The Maryland state flower is the black-eyed Susan and the floral pattern was a nice way to tie that in. Obviously I wanted white for the background because it would help the two other colors stand out and because white is the color of purity. Baptism purifies us and washes us clean from sin. I wanted the quilt to represent Piper's spiritual journey through life. I decided to have a symbol from her Primary, Young Woman and adulthood eras of life.

Debbie Lee embellishment: Next to the CTR she quilted "I Know the Scriptures are True"

Debbie Lee embellishment: Next to the YW flame she quilted "I am a daughter of God and he loves me"

Debbie Lee embellishment: Next to the Angel Moroni she quilted "Stand ye in holy places and be not moved"

Debbie Lee embellishment: By the Angel Moroni and beneath the above quote she also did this medallion of the SLC temple.

The dove of course represents the Holy Ghost as recorded in the scriptures from when Jesus Christ was baptized. I searched through dozens and dozens of images of the number 8 and finally found one where I could have the two main fabrics intertwining. Per tradition, Piper is being baptized at the age of accountability which is 8 years old. But if you turn the 8 on it's side, it becomes the symbol for infinity and her decision to be baptized is one that has eternal blessings.

Debbie Lee embellishment: She added a birthday cake next to the 8 with 8 candles and notice how the inside of the 8 is filled with repeating 8s! Genius!!!

At my request, Debbie Lee also quilted John 14:26 into the border. At the bottom center she also quilted I am a child of God. Little did she know Reagan had prepared a video of Piper growing up and it was set to the music of I Am a Child of God.

Debbie Lee embellishment: To emphasize the floral background she added more of them along the border. 

Turns out finding a fabric for the backing was a bit of a challenge. There are lots of yellow and blue prints, but not many yellow and purple. Finally I came across this tulip print which was perfect. I did the binding in the purple ombre but because I cut it so thin it doesn't stand out much.

Katrina made the label which includes this image of a child in heavenly white. She tells me the photographer creates this effect by having kids jump on a trampoline so they look like they are descending from heaven. Other contributors to the quilt were my parents and Whitney. Believe me, it was given to Piper with a whole lotta love!

To be honest, I could go on and on about what I would do differently and how it's not quite perfect and how I burned my fingers, ran out of bobbin thread, sewed, ripped out and sewed again the binding, etc.. For now I think I'll just let the quilt speak for itself. I was so happy to give it to Piper when she was in the hospital and I truly believe it offered her some measure of comfort. And after all, that was the whole point all along, right? Piper's baptism has been rescheduled for this Saturday and I believe Reagan is planning to display the quilt and read my explanation of the symbolism. I so desperately wish I could be there myself but clearly the love and intention is there, stitched into every quarter inch of fabric. 

Tidbits

Brigitta was having a super fussy day where she could not be pleased. Apparently Ireland saw me struggling because she finally said, "Mom? After lunch we're gonna sell Brigitta down the river!"

Tickling the ivories. I love how the sunlight plays on her blonde hair.

Ireland came across a drawing she'd done the previous week. She took one look at it and proudly said, "Ooooh! That's a good scribble!"

I can't get over how clever this one is. Liesel is asleep on her bed in the lower right corner. She's dreaming of goldfish crackers, cereal (Capt'n Crunch I believe) and a balloon. 

After picking the girls up from school, Liesel announced out of nowhere, "I'm not gonna marry Gavin." Never in her life has Liesel talked about a boy like this, so naturally I was curious. The details I got about Gavin are still pretty nondescript, however. Since her initial declaration, Liesel has gone back and forth on whether or not she's going to marry him. At one point she said, "I dunno who I'm gonna marry. Maybe I need to go to another school to find who I'm gonna marry."

Apparently this is what I look like angry. After the years of braces, I have to admit I'm a little disappointed with how my teeth turned out. In this picture, Liesel tells me kids on the playground were bothering me and I just wanted them to leave my flower alone. Notice how she combined black and yellow crayons to give me brown hair? 

I write down the Nursery and Primary lessons on our family calendar so after church we can discuss what they learned. Ireland's lesson on this particular Sunday was I Know Heavenly Father Loves Me. As we ate a nice lunch I said, "Ireland, besides me and Daddy, who loves you?" She flung both arms in the air and exclaimed, "EVERYONE!!!"

Liesel asked what I had learned and I told her we talked about the Holy Ghost. Ireland interjected, "I don't like the Holy Ghost." I was so stunned I didn't know what to say. She finally continued, "Of all the monsters, I don't like the Holy Ghost." I did my best to help her understand what the Holy Ghost is to no avail.

This is Disneyland- Cinderella's castle I'm guessing. I'm impressed with how Liesel was sure to include the restrooms for girls and boys. 

I was released from my calling as ward missionary. When Brother Hubble made the announcement during sacrament meeting, Liesel perked up and said, "MOM! He's talking about you!" I quietly told her I knew and to please remember to whisper. Brother Hubble asked everyone to show their appreciation by raising their hand and at that relatively quiet moment, Liesel puzzled loudly, "But how does he even KNOW you?" Everyone, including the visiting high councilman on the stand, heard her.

Liesel tells me this is the two of us on Halloween, "doing scary stuff" and I'm a vampire while she's a zombie. The little pumpkin is my favorite.

The girls started dance lessons which are combo classes of ballet, tap and for Liesel, jazz. They change their shoes mid-session and while I was helping Liesel put on her tap shoes, Brigitta made a beeline for the studio. By the time I had Liesel all set and was able to chase after Brigitta, she was completely surrounded by little girls in tights and tutus madly tapping their feet. She giggled and clapped which just encouraged the dancers more. Brigitta spent the rest of the lesson with her face pressed against the glass door carefully watching. It was heartbreakingly cute.

Although Ireland is our best eater, she's often a slow eater. Sometimes a little motivation works wonders. That's a spray bottle of water I'm holding. 

While doing my rounds picking kids up from school, we passed by my gym en route to retrieve Ireland. Liesel asked me if I'd be taking Ireland back there and I told her no, but once I have the baby I will take Brigitta and Sydney there. She was quiet for a second then said, "How will you carry two babies at the same time?" I told her I didn't know, I was still figuring that out. The next day, I was running errands with Ireland and Brigitta and was relating this story to Brent. Ireland enthusiastically piped up from the back seat saying, "I know! I know! Use a BAG!!!" So if you see me running into the gym with two babies in a bag, you'll know where the idea came from.

I love it when Brigitta gets focused on something. Her little baby shoulders get all hunched and she sits incredibly still to focus. Here she's taking apart Ireland's inhaler (which is silvery and therefore fascinating). 

Ireland's First Day of Preschool

The day Ireland has been waiting for (literally, YEARS) finally arrived! Many months before, we did an exhaustive search of preschools in the area. We considered a Montessori school, a Catholic school, a performing arts school and a dozen others. I talked to anyone who seemed to have any knowledge on the subject. We weighed tuition costs and schedules and how Ireland seemed to react to the many tours we took. At long last, we settled on Kinderfarm.

Yes, it's actually on a farm just outside of Iowa City and aside from the fresh air, Ireland gets to help feed Pearl the pot-bellied pig, Boots the goat, Joel the horse, and the many chickens, roosters, peacocks, and other farm animals. Lunch is served there which includes (of course!) fresh food from the fields and gardens which the preschoolers help plant, tend and harvest. It's a total Iowa experience you won't find so easily elsewhere. I'm also happy she's getting her own version of Preschool and not going to a classroom where a teacher will immediately dub her as "Liesel's little sister" and spend the school year comparing the two. This Preschool experience will truly be unique, just for Ireland.

Ireland's pretty outgoing but new environments can make even the boldest kid hang back a bit. I wasn't sure how Ireland would react but I guess she was truly determined to get her turn. She bounded onto the playground with plenty of vim and vigor. After signing her in, I yelled goodbye to her and she barely turned my direction to acknowledge me with a wave. When I went to pick her up, Ireland actually burst into tears at seeing me. She wanted to stay. It took a little while to convince her she would be back... a lot. Finally she resigned herself to coming home with boring ole Mom. Ireland was covered in a layer of dirt and out of breath from running around and her cheeks were bright pink and her shoes were filled with sand from the sandbox. Farmer Jeff told me he was impressed with how she gobbled down all her lunch. Liesel peppered her with questions about her day and Ireland answered them nonchalantly like she was a professional preschooler. Just as we'd hoped, she absolutely loved it.

I was so excited for Ireland to finally start school. Not just because it would lighten my load a bit, but because she's been eager to go ever since Liesel started school. She even got her backpack at around the same time Liesel did and would put it on like that alone merited beginning her formal education. I thought all my guilt at seeing her miss out would melt away once she went to Kinderfarm. But as Brigitta and I drove away, the Pilot was eerily quiet. Brigitta looked at me like, "What am I gonna do with YOU all day?" When we picked Ireland up, she wasn't the only one who didn't want to leave, Brigitta was struggling to keep herself on the playground too. She wanted to stay too. 

And another round of guilt begins...

Brigitta's August POTD

Okay, so I know I said July would be the last of this series. But it turns out when I don't feel pressure to take adorable photos of Brigitta, they just happen. I can't help but share these:

August 3: climbing around the fireplace where she inevitably either slips and scrapes herself up on the bricks or pulls the fireplace tools down on herself. Having a poker slammed into her noggin has yet to deter her.

If it's not the fireplace, it's the garbage. Whyyyyyyy?

Going shopping with Daddy

No one even noticed the baby in the bag.

August 4: Does life get any better when you have an Oreo?

Saying goodbye to Daddy

August 10: Making a meal of the coaster at Olive Garden

August 24: Aunt Julie was unaware we routinely snatch iPhones away from the baby. When she handed hers over to Brigitta, she squealed with delight.

August 30: I decided to try these flip flops on her. One moment she'd kick them off and the next she'd try and put them on again. 

Tiny Tim is a song the girls learned in swim class. Brigitta caught on and as you can see, she does most of the actions. I love how she pre-empts the raspberries at the end. That's clearly her favorite part, as is mine.