The Night Greg and I Met - Emily's Version (Otherwise Known as "The Truth")

Greg and I met ten years ago today.  It really is a great story, and even though Greg says that I tell it wrong, it is my blog so I guess I'll tell it my way:

We met at Steve and Elizabeth's wedding.  Steve has been Greg's friend ever since they met their Freshman year at Rick's all the way back in 1989 (when I was twelve years old).  They went on their mission's together, they were even in the MTC together, and afterward headed to BYU together.  I met Liz when I was 15 doing shows at Pages Lane Theater in Centerville.  We had a huge group of friends, and most weekends either we (Lisa and I) would be at her house in Ogden or she and Latoya would be at our house.  

Steve and Liz got married in the morning and then we headed to the wedding breakfast where Lisa and I sang together.  This picture is classic: Lisa messed up on the words and was calling a "Time Out" (family joke) and I couldn't stop laughing.  You can see a white shirt behind Lisa - That is Greg (before we met).  Matt was accompanying us on the piano, and a few years later, Lisa and Matt got married.  Our very own, Mormon version of a Days of Our Lives Love Triangle.   

The reception was later that night, and I was seriously the Belle of the Ball.  

TANGENT: (I don't normally brag about my popularity, but I had just worked very hard for about a year to lose about 35 pounds.  I was heavy all through high school and it continued through much of college and when I lived in New York.  I was always so self conscious about guys liking me because of my weight.  So, with my new-found figure came some new-found self esteem.  All of our guy friends from "the theater" were there that night, and they all danced with me.  I even danced with some strangers.  I seriously danced ALL night long - every single dance.  I was feeling very, very confident by the time I met Greg.)

Where was I...Oh, yes...I was the Belle of the Ball (I just like saying it).  Toward the end of the evening, my friend and I were at the cake table.  They served chocolate and vanilla cake.  I chose the vanilla, and I suddenly hear this voice behind me say, "Why would you choose vanilla when you could have chocolate?"  Greg and his friend Jeff were standing there (First Impression: Tall, broad, sandy blonde guy much better looking than the short, skinny one with wavy hair).  He introduced himself and after a couple of minutes of small talk, he asked me to dance.  I can still remember the feeling of his hand on my back.  He was completely entranced with me.  He didn't leave my side the rest of the night, and literally hung on every word I spoke.  He was smitten immediately.  (Remember: This is my blog - I tell it like I see it!)

When the evening was over, I was talking to a bunch of Steve's friends (including Greg).  I was being friendly and flirting with all of them, but I was really just waiting for Greg to ask for my number of something.  He totally chickened out, and I was getting tired of entertaining all of the gentlemen, so I walked back upstairs to help clean up (one of my many duties as part of the wedding party).  Luckily, Greg came up with some lame excuse to come back upstairs (he said he had to give something to Steve's mom), and asked if I was hungry and would I like to go with him to get something to eat.  By some fabulous twist of fate, Lisa had to leave the reception early to go to Jessica Higg's wedding reception so I was driving home alone.  Good thing!  

Greg said that he had to get some gas first, and at that time in his life, he was purely a Chevron guy (now he's a "Just Buy the Cheapest Stuff" guy).  We were in downtown Ogden, both in our own cars since we were both headed to Salt Lake, and he said that he thought he saw a gas station by the freeway.  We drove west on 24th Street to catch I-15.  We did pass a gas station, but it wasn't a Chevron, so he kept driving.  There is NOTHING west of I-15 on 24th Street in Ogden.  It is all industrial.  I knew this, but alas, in a world without cell phones (how did we ever survive?!?) there was no way to let him know.  After a few miles, he pulled over, walked over to my car window (which I rolled down) and assured me that he wasn't this crazy, scary person who took me out in the middle of nowhere on purpose - He was just lost.  He followed me to a gas station and we then went to Bountiful.  We tried several different restaurants, but they were all closed.  But not trusty old Village Inn - It was open and we shared some delicious hash browns.  

I remember that I was wearing new heels all day long and my feet were killing me.  So, I took my shoes off and put my feet up while we were at the restaurant.  Afterward, I could hardly get my shoes back on.  We walked out to the car and he explained that his family was in San Diego so he was getting on a plane early the next morning, but he did get my phone number.  We stood in the parking lot forever and it was freezing!  He was just wasting time and flirting shamelessly, so I finally said, "So are you going to kiss me or what?"  He explained that he didn't usually do that on a first date (yeah right), but I guess he succumbed to my bewitching ways.  When I got home that night, I walked into Lisa's room, she took one look at me, and said, "What did you do?"    

In all honesty, I didn't know if he was ever going to actually call me, and it had been a while since I'd kissed someone, so I was just looking for a quick pick-me-up.  I never guessed that ten years later, we'd be working on five kids (WOW).  I never could have imagined everything that we've been through standing in that parking lot ten years ago, freezing my heiney off, making out with some cute guy I'd just met and didn't even know his last name.  I wonder what the next ten will bring...

Merry Christmas!

As we were driving home on Christmas Eve, Austin said, "It is going to be really hard to go to sleep tonight."  True to his Austin spirit of perpetual excitement, he walked in our room at 5:15 a.m.  We let him open his stocking which kept him busy for a little while, and Greg graciously got up with him about an hour later.  The girls didn't get up until about 8:30 though, so he had a lesson in patience.  We woke up to a Christmas Blizzard, but that didn't stop my parents from coming out to watch the kids open their presents.  We ate the traditional yummy breakfast casserole and sweet rolls, and reveled in Star Wars, Princesses, and Winnie the Pooh all morning.    

Paige would have been thrilled if the only thing she received the entire day was a sucker in her stocking.  Although she did love her new books as well, and Nana was extremely patient to read them to her over and over again.

Storm Trooper Austin and wanna-be Storm Trooper Matt:

Here is Matt paying Macy one dollar for a back-rub (she actually got a new, electronic toothbrush in her stocking, so she used that as her massager):

Would you believe - more candy for Paige!

Christmas #2 at my parents house.  They spoiled us with new bedding, a huge bag of dress-ups for Macy, an awesome Lego set for Austin, and new puzzles for Paige.  We snacked all day long and enjoyed visits from all the grandparents.  Fun day!

Austin really wanted to get Greg a BYU hat (completely his idea).  So, we went to the store and he picked this one out.  My dad actually put it on his head.  Amazingly, his head didn't melt away or explode into a thousand pieces - as I'm sure he believed would happen if that logo ever touched his skin.  This is actually a really good picture of him:  

Since this is typically how every image of my dad turns out:

The most precious gift of the day: My old clogs.  My mom found these as she was cleaning out some old boxes, and my dad polished them up.  The blue ones fit Macy perfectly, and she loves wearing them.  She says that she likes the way they sound.  So, as I am writing this, I can hear something that sounds a lot like Riverdance on my kitchen floor.  As my husband will attest, I am not one for the overly-sentimental (especially when it has to do with "stuff"), but these just melted my heart.  I loved them so much when I was little, and now my little Dutch blondie with her wooden shoes is just as thrilled!

As we drove home, I could not believe the amount of snow we received.  We had at least double my parents (who live a mere seven miles away).  It was crazy and so beautiful.  Since we live on a private road, our roads had not been plowed, and very few people had shoveled their walks (it looked like most people just stayed in for the day).  It was such a gorgeous scene: Tons of un-disturbed snow, Christmas lights glowing under snow drifts, and the night sky extremely bright from the reflection of the pure, white snow.  A perfect, peaceful Christmas scene.  

Bless You Santa!

Being the fabulous mother that I am, I finally took my kids to see Santa on Tuesday (the 23rd).  I knew it would be crazy at the mall, but decided to just grin and bear it and fight for parking and stand in line.  We got there and the line for Santa had just closed for two hours for lunch.  What?!?  I refused stand around for two hours (during nap time no less) waiting to stand in line for another who knows how long once Santa returned.  Macy was beside herself.  I tried to remind them that Santa had sent all of them a personal letter (Matt & Lisa's gift to the kids - they LOVED them), so I'm sure Santa knew her.  She was trying to suck it up, but was still pretty upset.  I called Brother Grove and asked him if there was any way that he could stop by and visit my kids for just a few minutes.  He actually had a "gig" that night and said that he could stop by before.  He is an incredible Santa Clause, and my kids were in heaven!  

We kept it a secret, but heard jingle bells and they ran to the door.  Once inside, Santa told the kids a story with hand puppets, and then they each got a chance to sit on his lap.  Paige was a little cautious when he first arrived, but after she watched Austin and Macy sit on his lap (and get a "treat"), she jumped right up - no fear!  They sang Rudolph together and Austin played Jingle Bells on the piano while we all sang.  Then they all stood by the window and watched him drive away.  Paige said, "Bye, bye Santa Clause" and told Greg (with candy cane slobber running down her chin), "Santa Clause...a...treat."  Thank you, Santa, for saving my bacon.  I remember Santa came to our house when I was a little girl - probably younger than Austin.  It was a very magical night that I'm sure they won't forget.  

My favorite part about the picture with Paige is her winter boots over her pajamas.  Nice touch, Sweetie!

A neighbor brought over some fresh-baked rolls and jam.  After Santa left, Paige climbed up on the table, pulled the pan onto a kitchen chair, and proceeded to eat the top off every single roll.  The girl knows what she wants.  Hilarious!

While I'm blessing people/things, may I just say bless you Harmon's for having Expectant Mother parking on a snowy day right before Christmas with an incredibly full parking lot and me toting along a little toddler.  I was so grateful.  

My Love Affair with Clementine(s)

I cannot get enough of these:

My kids and I can go through a 5 pound bag in a couple of days.  They taste so fabulous right now!  In fact, I am so in love with them that they absolutely deserve their own post!

Christmas Candy

Does anyone remember my crazy idea that I had to make all of the candy this year for the stockings?  I'm not sure what I was thinking, but I am remaining committed to creating at least one thing with my bare hands and sweat of my brow.  I wanted to invite anyone who doesn't already have enough to do to join me.

Who's Invited: Anyone!!!

When: Tuesday night 

Time:  8 o'clock (that's when the kids are in bed)

Place: My house

Menu: Chocolate Christmas molds, truffles rolled in sprinkles, and homemade peanut butter cups

What to Bring: Nothing!  I had to buy the chocolate in bulk, so I have 15 pounds.  15 pounds!!!  And I only have three kids.  

Just let me know if you want to come!  

Merry Christmas

It has been a little tough for me to get into the Christmas spirit this year.  I don't know why, but it has just taken a little longer.  What I thought was going to be a relatively calm month, has turned into crazy busy-ness every night with either Greg or myself or our entire family gone.  And I really am extremely concerned with the "consumer" side of Christmas and teaching my children the true meaning.  Every Family Home Evening this month has been spent in some sort of service for others.  I am frantically trying to teach this principle, and I don't know if my kids are really old enough to "get it," but we'll just keep trying and hopefully it will sink in at some point.  

Having said that, I've kind of been inundated this week with criticism on the commercialism of Christmas and Santa and all that jazz.  And for all of you who know me well, you know it doesn't take much to get me to feel guilty.  I am just kind of sick of feeling guilty for enjoying this side of Christmas.  We got a "Christmas Card" that said "We Believe in Jesus and Not Santa."  On one column, they listed everything about Santa compared to everything about Jesus (maybe 12-15 items).  For example, "Santa comes once a year" compared to "Jesus is always there for us."  Another one said "Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly" compared to "Jesus has a heart full of love."  It isn't that I necessarily disagree with this.  I certainly don't pray in Santa's name.  

I would just like to say that I do believe in Santa.  You have to realize that my mother still signs "From, Santa" on our gifts (and her youngest is 19).  I love all the magic that comes with this time of year, and I think a global image of a man dedicated to serving children and all mankind is a very, very good thing for our society.  Santa is a metaphor for Christ.  I don't know who is more excited on Christmas morning - the kids, Greg, or myself.  The kids are excited because they do believe in all the magic.  Greg is excited because he doesn't do any of the shopping or wrapping (just the funding).  I don't know who is more eager when Austin opens a new Lego Star Wars ship - Austin or Greg.  And I can hardly sleep with anticipation because I love - absolutely love - to watch their reactions.  It is my best and favorite Christmas gift.  The gift of pure, innocent happiness and laughter.  I am blessed because I have kids that don't have long lists (yet), and they get so excited over every little thing.  They are excited for themselves and for others.  They are just excited about someone opening a gift that they picked out as they are to receive their own gifts.  My kids literally bounce around the house, and they are so very happy.  Even though we have a very modest Christmas morning, I love being the creator of the magic.  It does bring peace and joy to our home. 

 

We finally had our FHE on Thursday night this week.  We read "Christmas Day in the Morning."  This is the classic Christmas story by Pearl Buck about the boy who gives his father a Christmas present by milking the cows all by himself one morning.  We have this beautiful picture book which keeps the kids more engaged.  I loved the preface by the illustrator.  He tells about one year when his kids (then 10 and 7 years old) heard this classic story in church and woke up at 2 in the morning on Christmas Eve to clean the kitchen and living room for their mother who was hosting a big family party the next day.  He was so touched that he decided to illustrate the story.  

After we read the book, we drew names to be "Secret Santa" for a week.  Since Macy cannot keep a secret, she pulled out the first name.  I could tell it was my name, so I told her that Dad could help her open it and read it.  After whispering in her ear, Macy turned to me and said, "I have you Mom."  I then asked her if she knew what a secret was.  She said, "no."  She doesn't quite "get" it, but she is trying.  Yesterday, she cleared my dinner plate for me without any prompting from anyone.  And we have learned that it is best not to let her in on any more Christmas secrets.  

Austin drew out a name and excitedly exclaimed, "I got the one I wanted!"  He ran over to me and whispered in my ear, "Mom, are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?"  I told him that I would run the dishwasher that night so they would be clean the next morning.  At 6:20 a.m., Greg and I heard him up in the kitchen.  He was doing Macy's chore for her - putting the clean silverware away.  And this morning, he ran right in and made her bed for her.  I don't know what warmed my heart more - the fact that Macy was the person that he most wanted to serve or his sincere efforts to ease her burden this week.  

Merry Christmas to all of you - however you choose to celebrate.  At my house, I hope and pray that we can feel the love and peace and testimony of Christ and that first Christmas night right along with the magic of the Season.  May you all find peace and joy this Christmas day.  

Thank You

Thank you to all of you for your kind words of faith and encouragement.  One of the reasons that I love blogging is that I actually felt much better after writing all my worries down.  For me, there is just something about getting out of head that helps me deal.  I know that I have so much support and that I can rely on so many of you at any moment.  So, please don't be surprised if my older kids wander over to your house famished, or un-bathed, or wearing the same clothes three days in a row.  When I think about it rationally, I know I can leave one baby and go grocery shopping with the other one (although I am definitely looking into grocery delivery - excellent idea, Kristy), I can order summer/school clothes online, and I can send people to the store to grab yet another package of diapers.  We will make it!  I just had to breakdown for a few minutes.  The first of many, I'm sure.  If these "Breakdown Posts" become more frequent, just read it and just realize that it is my therapy.  Chances are, if I can just vent, half the stress dissipates.  I really do feel your love and support, and words cannot express how grateful I feel for all of you.

We went to the doctor again yesterday.  Although they were being quite modest, I think it is safe to say that we are having twin boys.  I've always thought I would have another boy, but when I first found out that I was pregnant, I was hoping for a girl.  I wanted a girl because I already have a bunch of clothes (that are not eight years old), I wouldn't have to re-paint any bedrooms, and we already had a named picked out.  Those are high-quality, excellent reasons for wanting a girl - don't you think?!?  Tuesday night, I started feeling a little bit sad because I had gotten used to the idea of boys.  What if we went in and they were actually girls?  I didn't know how I would feel.  But, we are having boys that are still extremely active (yep - definitely our children).  Time to go through Austin's old clothes and see if anything is salvageable.  I'm thankful that everyone will have a brother and everyone will have a sister.  Greg loves having his brothers, and I absolutely cherish my sisters.  What a huge blessing for my kids!  Now we have to think about names.  My mind turns to mush when I try to think about that.  I seriously can't think clearly at all when it comes to names.  Do they have to match, or are we going to be lucky to just agree on two regardless if they go together?  I can't keep my three kids straight right now, do I really want twins whose names start with the same letter?  How do we decide which one gets which name?  Tough!  I am definitely stumped!

Everything else looks good and healthy.  I will see Dr. Draper every two weeks and have an ultrasound every time.  They will mostly check blood flow and fluid.  Every other visit, they will examine the organs in depth.  Dr. Draper's main focus is the babies (he doesn't weigh me, do urine samples, or take my blood pressure, etc. when I see him - Hallelujah).  I will still see Dr. Hansen regularly for all my needs.  He will monitor my body.  We feel so blessed to have two incredible doctors.  Dr. Draper's specialty is in the miscarriage realm, but has really focused on multiple births in the past several years.  We are in good hands.  

Enough about the three of us, let me talk about my sweet Paige for a few minutes.  Don't you just adore this picture of her!?!  It reminds me of Holly Hobby.  She was all the rage when I was Macy's age (the 1970s equivalent to the Disney Princess obsession).   

 

Paige has recently figured out how to take her clothes off, especially her pajamas.  For about a week now, when I go to check on her at night, I see her jammies on the floor over the side of her bed or they are unzipped and only hanging on by the feet.  I've just laughed it off - until yesterday.  Yesterday, she not only took off her jammies at night and her clothes during her nap, but she took the diaper off as well.  Suddenly, this new talent of hers is not nearly as adorable.  After washing all the linens and airing out the urine smell, I've decided we are going to have the pin the zipper down or something.  She is just getting too smart for her own good.  

She is also a crazy climber and extremely inventive.  She hauls little chairs and stools all around the house to get what she wants.  Sometimes she will even use two or three devices to get to a higher surface.  My little engineer creates her own tower.  She also likes to pull out successive drawers and use them for her ladder.  I've found her sitting on the kitchen counter, on top of the bathroom counter "cleaning" the mirror with Greg's toothbrush, and standing on top of the piano reaching for something on the mantle.  Crazy and dangerous!  My little baby is turning into an ingenious, precocious little toddler.      

Funny side note:  As I'm typing this, Paige is occupying herself with puzzles (her obsession) and Claire and Macy are playing Polly Pocket with the doll house.  Claire is the mom and I just heard her say (in a very tired, exhausted voice): "I just can't deal with all this crap."  I am laughing so hard that tears are streaking down my face.  I hope you are laughing too, Jackie.  These kids are hilarious!

Kind of Freaking Out

It has been two weeks since I knew about the twins, and I keep thinking that when I go to the doctor tomorrow they are going to tell me that it was all a joke and there is really only one baby.  It is just so hard to believe that this is happening!  For the first little while, I think I was able to appreciate my kids more and I managed to pull more patience from my pregnant arsenal whenever dealing with them.  I just felt so content and blessed.  The last few days, though, I think reality has set in and I can feel myself losing it and panicking.  

Greg did this just two days after we found out.  It didn't matter what the kids did, he would get exasperated and say, "I don't know how you are going to do this with five kids," or "How are you going to keep up with Paige with two more babies!"  I would just tell him that I didn't know but we were just going to have to do it.  I kept telling him it was all about attitude.  I'm eating my words right now!

I have had such a short fuse the last few days.  My house feels like chaos to me, and it doesn't matter how much time I spend cleaning it up, it still feels out of control.  Everything my kids do just makes me freak out.  I panic thinking that I need them to change their behavior because I am going to be preoccupied with two babies (three really - Paige is only going to be two [just barely]).  And I know that this is as easy as it is going to get and I can't even handle this, how in the world am I going to deal with everything once they are no longer inside my body!  Everything is irritating to me, and I just seem to be an ornery, rotten mom.  

I wake up at night to use the bathroom (of course) and just lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how on earth this is going to work.  When I had Paige, everyone said, "Well, at least your back wasn't as bad as with Macy."  That isn't true at all.  It was just as bad.  The spasms still happened, and I had to be extremely cautious - I just learned to keep my mouth shut because there wasn't much I could do about it.  Doing mundane tasks like getting into the shower or doing the laundry was tough, not to mention actually changing a diaper or bathing my baby.  I remember dropping some clothes on the floor during the washer-to-dryer transfer and just crying because I didn't know how I could bend over to pick them up.  

Getting in and out of bed was a nightmare.  It took me a good 15 minutes to just walk after standing up in the morning.  I would go to bed and sleep on my right side all night long.  Greg would put Paige in my arms and she ate off the right side all night (it was a very hilarious, lop-sided view in the morning when I pumped the left side immediately, but at least I didn't have to roll over which inevitably set off a series of back spasms).  I'm not saying this to get sympathy.  I lived through it and I knew I could live through it again, but that was when I was having one baby.  I just can't imagine the pain of getting up multiple times at night to feed because obviously both of them cannot sleep on my right side and eat off one side all night long.  

Every time I buckle Paige all I can think about is how I am going to have to climb in the very back of the van to get her in and out of her carseat whenever we go anyplace.  When Macy and Paige were babies, I would just leave their carriers in the car because my back was too weak to carry the baby plus the carrier.  I would just carry them to and from the car.  How is this going to work?!?  I know it seems mundane, but to me it is an almost insurmountable task to climb in the back of a car to buckle Paige, let alone juggle two baby carriers.        

You can see that I'm losing it.  What has happened to my faith and my hope?  I so desperately want to see these babies as the blessing (and miracle) that they are.  I so desperately want to believe that I have it in me to be a loving, compassionate, patient, non-yelling, even fun and happy mother.   I so desperately want to cherish this time in my children's lives.  I really do love having them around, but I just can't seem to get a handle on the chaos.  It just seems like nothing but doubt occupies my mind these past few days.  

You don't have to comment on this post, and I assure you that I really am not fishing for sympathy.  I am frustrated and ashamed of my attitude and behavior lately.  So many people keep telling me that I can handle this, and the truth is that I don't have much of a choice - I HAVE to do this.  I would just like to do it as a happy, loving, fun person instead of one that dreads what is coming.

Faith & Bowels: Two Main Subjects of my Life

Greg told a woman at work that we were having twins today.  Actually, he emailed her and told her he was going to be a father again "with a twist."  Her response:  "It isn't Emily."  Haha!  Actually, her response was very interesting.  She said: "Well, you Mormons believe that everything happens for a purpose."  

This comment has been on both of our minds all evening.  First of all, this woman is considered "A Mormon."  She has been baptized and is therefore on the records of the church.  I'm positive there are two Visiting Teachers out there that diligently leave a plate of cookies and a photocopy of the monthly message on her doorstep every month.  Secondly, I pose the question: How does one make it through life without knowing that "to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven" (to quote Ecclesiastes or The Byrds)? 

On another note:

Paige is seriously the sweetest, most delicious thing in my life right now.  Tonight, Macy fought yet another battle in her War of the Bowels (she is losing by the way).  Needless to say, she was incredibly grumpy all evening.  During an intermission, Paige tried to approach her darling sister.  Macy, having a rough night, pushed her away.  We tried to distract Paige by having her run an errand.  Halfway down the hall, she turned back around and ran toward Macy.  "Sorry Macy.  Kisses."  She put her arms around her and kissed her arm.  Even Macy's heart melted for a second or two.  

We also heard Paige repeat the words (with great concern I might add): "Enema...poo-poo...out."  She has such an advanced vocabulary!  I hope, with all my heart, that she shares this one with the check-out lady the next time we are in the grocery store.  It seems like all our family secrets are revealed at check-out stands.

Just to bring the conversation full circle:

While Macy was in the bathroom, screaming and crying, she was calling out, "I want to go to Heaven!"  See, even my little four-year-old knows that all of this suffering is for a reason and that our trials do make us stronger.  It seems like Sunday's theme was that trials do make us stronger as we come to a realization that we cannot do it without relying heavily on our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  As we "Come to Christ" our "yoke" (so to speak) truly does become lighter and easier to bear.  We look at life with an Eternal Perspective as peace enters into our hearts and minds.  We are able to see the joy and the Lord's compassion so much clearer when we realize that everything truly does have a purpose.  (And no, I am not discussing bowels any longer).  

It does not matter to me that I may seem naive, ignorant, or idealistic to search for meaning in my life.  I believe it is there.  I am trying to look at these children as more of a blessing than a trial (although we've only just begun), but I firmly believe that this was the Lord's doing and He will take care of us.  Last Tuesday, the night before we found out about our two babies, I was contemplating Elder Wirthlin's words: "Put your trust in the Lord, do your best, then leave the rest to Him."  In this same talk, he quoted his mother's advice to him during a trial in his life: "Come what may, and love it."  I love the way the Lord works!  Just the night before, I knelt down and pledged that I would do better at following this council.  Those words came back to me during the ultrasound and my heart has been at peace all week.  Not only with these babies, but with other struggles in my life as well.

Yes...I do believe that everything has a purpose.  I believe that something as trivial as me picking up a certain Conference Talk at a particular moment has significance, or the sweet love and concern of a toddler has meaning.  It is my prayer tonight that this woman may find the answers and the peace that she is searching for as well.   

Consumer Report

Even though you may use this:

Or this:

Or even this:

You still may end up with this (This is pretty close to the actual amount of tests that I took):

And so now I am experiencing a lot of this:

And this:

I've taken to calling Greg "Super Sperm" (Liz said that his sperm should actually wear little Superhero capes). At any rate, we are surprised but excited. Due date: June 9th

The Rest of the Story:

I have had a really hard time the last few years trying to figure out where "the end" was.  What I mean is, how would I know when I was done having children?  Greg is done after every child, so he doesn't really count.  As a woman, is this part of my life really over?  When do I know?  I guess I think that I will be 32 when this baby is born, and don't get me wrong, I am definitely NOT 24 anymore, but that seems relatively young to be "DONE."  Maybe I will want another baby in a few years.  How do I really know?

Well, over the past few weeks, it has become very apparent to me that I just can't do this again.  My body just wasn't built for having babies, and it is worn out (hats off to you that do this six, seven, eight, nine times).  The heparin is hard on my body, and this pregnancy has been tough.  I just knew in my heart that it was not a matter of wanting more; My body just can't take it.  Even the past few days (Thanksgiving Weekend), I knew that this was "IT," and I felt at peace with it.  I was ready to enjoy this pregnancy and relish this baby as "The Last."  It always feels good to find peace, gratitude, and contentment.

When I was pregnant with Macy, I had to go to a special clinic at the UofU because of the recurrent miscarriages.  Since then, one of the doctors (Dr. Draper) from that clinic now works one day at my doctor's office (which is fabulous because it is just a regular co-pay and not considered "Specialist Care").  When I was pregnant with Paige, my regular doctor sent me to see Dr. Draper just to make sure we were doing everything he would recommend.  It was very routine.  So, with this pregnancy, my regular doctor suggested the same.  My appointment with Dr. Draper was Wednesday.

I knew they would do an ultrasound because Dr. Draper's temporary office is located in the Ultrasound Suite, and I've done this enough (this is my 8th pregnancy after all) to know that they will check the placenta and blood flow and all that jazz.  Greg stayed home with the kids because it is very routine.  I went in and the lab technician explained that she would take a few pictures and then Dr. Draper would be in.  Okay, no big deal.  Routine.  She put the gel and the wand on my belly, sympathized with my bruises (which is the main reason that I put that previous picture up - I'm seeking additional sympathy), and asked if I had an ultrasound before with this pregnancy.  I explained that the doctor had done a few with the old machine in his office. She said, "Well, did he tell you that there are two babies in there."  I said, "There are not!"  Then I saw two very distinct little heads and bodies and four arms and four legs and I just started sobbing and wishing with all my heart that Greg were there with me.  Routine...right!?!

With absolutely NO family history (neither of our parents could think of any sets of twins anywhere in our family lines), it appears that we are skipping four altogether and going right to five.  It still feels so funny to even say it out loud.  Twins!  What!?!  Apparently we had it wrong all those years.  We tried so desperately to get one baby (ovulation tests, thermometers, etc.) and apparently when you use protection, you actually get two babies.  That's right - TWO BABIES!  Right now, it appears that they are identical twins, and although it is still extremely early to tell (13 weeks), it is looking like twin boys.  I'm still kind of freaking out.  It just seems so unbelievable.  I am thrilled and terrified all at the same time.

  

The Spiritual Side of the Story:

It is amazing to me how Heavenly Father works.  I joked with my nurse that my doctor was fired because he missed some vital information the first two times he checked me.  But, what I really think was that Heavenly Father was waiting for me to work it out in my own head and heart.  I struggled for a few years trying to figure out when I would feel "done."  I would get so sad when I thought of having all of my kids in school with an empty house.  It was almost terrifying to me not to have a little child at home with me.  When I finally came to realization that this was the last baby that I could physically have (complete with nothing but gratitude and happiness - putting all that sadness aside), then...and only then...did he bless me with this information.  

Before I even got pregnant, I knew I wanted to have one more.  Even at that time, I realized that this would probably be my last baby.  I joked with Jen, "Maybe if I pray to Heavenly Father, he'll give me twins."  But I never actually said that prayer, and I never in a million years thought I had the faith required to ask for such a miracle (honestly - We have absolutely zero family history of twins).  On top of that, how could I know that this would possibly be the prayer that He decided to say "yes" to.  Although I am aware of how much work one baby takes (and lack of sleep), I am nothing but nervous for the amount of work that two babies are going to take.  From listening to other mothers who have lived through this seemingly impossible task, everything is going to be put on hold for a few years while we just try to survive as a family (I hear it is a "blur").  And yet, amid all the anxiety (Dr. Draper spent about 20 minutes explaining all the possible risks with twins on top of heparin babies and he is proceeding very cautiously - I am officially "High Risk"), I sat in that room and cried and felt so loved, knowing with absolute surety that my Heavenly Father knows me and that He hears me even when I don't even know that I'm asking.  

Greg is nervous, extremely nervous, and he will definitely be at my next appointment asking every question in the book.  However, I just feel like this was the Lord's doing and He will take care of us.  I'm not exactly sure what that means (and I hope and pray that it doesn't mean bed rest), but I feel at peace.  Even though we will have five children in eight years (and three children ages 2 and under), I am extremely grateful for Austin and Macy because I know they will be such a big help.  They were so excited!  Macy said, "I knew we were going to get two more babies."  I told Austin that we have a lot of training in the next few months to get him ready to be my extra big helper, and he seemed up to the task.  I feel grateful that they are coming in the Spring so I will have everyone around me for the first few months.  I feel grateful that Paige is going to be my two-year-old.  She is so sweet and accommodating (much more than my other two at this age) and I am going to need that.  I am grateful for our neighborhood and ward who I know will help me (three meals is NOT going to cut it ladies).  I feel so grateful for all the friendships I have, and I honestly lose count of all the incredible women that I know I can count on at the drop of a hat.  I feel grateful for my family who love me so much (despite my bi-polar Sundays), and will be there when I need them.  I feel grateful for Greg's family, and especially his mother who never did twins but did this eight times (two with special needs).  I know she understands the word "overwhelmed" and she is nothing but loving and caring toward me.  I feel grateful for Greg.  I am just so honored that he is the one going through this life with me.  We are not perfect, but I think we make a pretty good team.  He came home with flowers for me on Wednesday night with two cream Gerbera daisies to represent these two babies.  And even more sweetly, he cleaned up the kitchen and got me some sweet potato fries from Rumbi (bring on the weight gain).  He is a good man, with a good heart, and I know he adores each and every one of us.  I love him.

And I am grateful for blogs.  I'm sure there will be several days when I am shedding tears of frustration and exhaustion that I will need to come back to this very post and remember that I am grateful and that this really is going to be a blessing in our lives!      

A Promise To My Daughter's Generation

I vow to remember what it was like to have young children.  When I see you with your little ones, I will not judge you.  I will remember how I felt and empathize with you.

• I will enjoy hearing the constant sea of little voices (and occasional screams and cries) in Sacrament Meeting because it means that these children are in a place where the Spirit dwells.  You are where you are supposed to be, even though it may not be easy every week, but you are giving your children the opportunity to feel of the Holy Spirit.  
• I will remember what it is like to have a baby skip a nap in order for the family to attend church together.  I will remember that to a mother with a tired and hungry baby, 3 hours can easily feel like a hundred.  
• I will smile to myself as I hear you remind your little ones, maybe 50 times over the course of a Sacrament Meeting, to whisper in the chapel or to fold their arms during a prayer.  I will know that you are trying your best to teach them how to act in a sacred place, and that one day, they will get it.
• I will remember that we ALL have bad days - including children.  We all "wake up on the wrong side of the bed" occasionally.
• I will remember that children will most likely not remember one specific lesson from Primary or even Family Home Evening.  What they will remember is whether or not they felt loved and accepted (and maybe a few Primary songs).
• I will remember the feelings of inadequacy...constant inadequacy.  I will remember that children do not come with an instruction manual, and every child is different.  I will remember that you doubt yourself enough and you don't need other people to doubt you as well.  I will remember that you feel enough competition from other women your age and you do not need older women judging you.
• I will see your eyes tear up while singing a hymn or reading a story and remember the emotional roller coaster of your life.  I will remember that you want so badly to be the perfect mother, but your "human," imperfect side keeps getting in the way.  I will remember the overwhelming desire to be the best mother that you can be, only to realize that you will inevitably fall short.  I will be there to share in your frustration but point out your strengths.  
• I will never say "In my day, children never/always..." or "Kids these days..."  Because the truth is that my children probably did do everything your children are doing, and I probably did them when I was young, and my parents probably did them when they were young.  I have already found that Father Time is merciful.  Already, I tend to remember the good (mostly) and forget the bad (mostly).  So, even though I may not remember every specific incident, I think kids in every generation need to make mistakes so they can then learn from them.  
• I will remember that you have divine stewardship over your children.  You are the ones that can receive inspiration on their behalf.  You have strong, faithful, intelligent spirits and you will figure out what is best for each of your children.
• I will remember that there are several different ways to raise children, and just because your approach is different than mine it doesn't mean that it is wrong.
• I will remember how time plays tricks on you.  How the day-to-day doldrums of motherhood can seem exhausting and never-ending, yet at the same time you are watching your children grow up so fast that you wonder where the time has gone. 
•  I will remember that we are all Daughters of our Heavenly Father.  I will remember that women need other women.  I will remember the women of the "previous generation" that loved me, encouraged me, accepted me, supported me, helped me, and (most importantly) inspired me when I was a young mother.  I will try my very best to do that for you as well.    

For The Love of Shoes

Okay, I am generally against hosting "parties" in my home.  I don't ever want people to feel "pressured" into anything.  So, I am having a shoe party next Monday (I won't post all the details here because I don't want everyone on the Internet to know my address, but if you didn't get an invite and want to come, just email me or give me a call).  This is VERY DIFFERENT than any other party I've ever been to, so I thought I would give you some information.

• There is no "sales presentation."  These wonderful ladies come and set up a shoe display in my living room, and we sit around talking and eating yummies while picking out shoes.  The wonderful ladies then go out to their giant, mobile shoe store parked in the driveway and get us the sizes we need.  Next, we try shoes on to our hearts content, do a little catwalk modeling, and if we like them, we buy them and TAKE THEM HOME THAT NIGHT!  It's amazing!
• The prices are very reasonable.  I would say that they are comparable to Payless prices.  And they do have some kids shoes.
• They assured me that they would have their boots in stock by November.  
• Please don't feel pressure to buy anything!  Although it is Christmas, and if you want/need shoes, you can just do what my mom does: She purchases her own presents, brings the bags/boxes home, and then instructs my dad to wrap them and put them under the tree.  She is brilliant!  Occasionally, she'll wear one of her "presents" to a Christmas party and then wrap it up for Christmas morning.  

I know the party is on Monday night (I booked it three months ago and this was all they had open until after Christmas), so please stop by after Family Home Evening if you want.  Even if you don't buy anything, just come and visit for a few minutes.  I would love to see you!

It's Just "Stuff" - Right!?!

It's just "stuff", right!?!...Stuff can be replaced...There's no need to take your son's life over stuff...right!?!  Money is just money...Not a big deal...right!?!

These pictures don't do it justice.  I ruined an entire load of laundry yesterday.  Technically, the black dry erase marker that Austin had in his pocket ruined an entire load of laundry yesterday.  That's right!  I tried everything I could think of to get it out, but it was already set.  After the third run-through, and none of the ink had even faded, I decided it was time to just let it go.  Nothing was spared.  The damage included, but was definitely not limited to: All of Austin's school pants (except the ones he wore that day), every outfit Paige wore the past week (I shed some tears over a cute pink skirt and a soft-pink horse outfit), a shirt and pair of pants that Macy had worn once, a Sunday dress, along with several pair of pajamas & underwear (which we kept because it doesn't matter if you have ink all over you when you are asleep or if you are wearing it under your clothes).

Greg was amazing and reminded me that we can replace everything.  He was good to laugh and not get mad at me (or Austin).  Shockingly, I didn't even yell at Austin.  I just explained that we need to be more careful about checking pockets - both he and I.  Probably the main reason I didn't get angry is because I felt like I should check his pockets when I was putting the load in.  I checked a few, and there was nothing in them, so I got lazy and rushed to just "get it done."  I've been praying that I will be more in tune with the Spirit and recognize the voice of the Holy Ghost.  Well, if I can't even listen when He tells me about laundry, how am I going to listen when someone really needs some help!  Guilt and frustration!  

It was an awfully expensive lesson as I replaced about $150 worth of clothes today (a lot of clothes that they have only been wearing for about a month).  That sounds like I went crazy on the spending, but everything I bought was on sale.  There were several pair of pants in that load (which generally cost more than shirts), and since it was mainly kids clothes (Greg and I both lost only one shirt each), the clothing was smaller and there were a TON of pieces of clothing in that load.  Seriously, it was almost all of the clothes that all three kids wore the entire week.  That is expensive!  Arghhh!

Deep breath...Moving on...