a story for Margaret

 Poor neglected 3rd child with no record of her dramatic entrance. I figured I really need to get this written down before she is driving and dating and before I forget it all (ok there are definitely parts I could never forget!)

Maggie came a week and some hours past her due date, in following suit of her brothers' lateness. I was sore and grouchy at everybody asking always when the baby was coming and how I was feeling, I'm sure I was screening all calls and most texts. I know, so nice of me.
My mom had flown in the day after my due date cause I figured that since Ellis was 9 days and then Hudson was 6 days late, this baby would be 3 days late for sure. I was so wrong. On Friday the 16th, my 41 week mark, I went in for a non stress test and an ultrasound where they informed me of what I knew. The baby was fine and just not ready. I scheduled another for Monday morning and hoped I wouldn't have to go (or pay for it again!)... And that my mom would even still be in town. Luckily she added a few extra days to her trip. That night we started making homemade pizzas and I was working on quilting a quilt I'd been working on the past week for the baby. I started having random contractions, not at all consistent, just here and there something small to think about. We ate dinner and went upstairs to put the boys to sleep. My mom retired to the basement to play on her iPad and I stayed up in our room feeling contractions suddenly start at 8. They started out about 6 minutes apart and right off the bat were pretty painful. I laid on the bed and as they quickly got closer together moved hanging off the side of the bed. An hour later they were about 3 1/2 minutes apart and I was blowing through them, so I decided to let Damon know.  Another hour later they were about 2 1/2 minutes apart and we decided to call the midwife on call to ask her when she wanted me to go in. I was in a lot of pain and felt like they were coming on pretty quick, but I was terrified of being in the hospital after our perfect home birth. I didn't want to get there too early and have to be In labor there for a long time. Because I called her in between contractions, she didn't seem super concerned and told me to call back in a couple hours or if they got closer together. Damon wasn't super convinced about that but I still wanted to push it further. So I hopped into the shower for some more relief and had Damon keep timing them on my phone.
 At this point contractions were consistently 2 minutes apart with some coming on after as little as a minute apart, and Damon was starting to really push me to get out and go to the hospital. I finally agreed and we grabbed our bags and left. This was the point where the whole thing turned into a ridiculous funny loud movie scene with Damon speeding on the highway and me yelling at him to 'slow down and stop driving crazy' in between yelling about contractions that wouldn't give me a break. We got to the hospital a little after 11 and Damon ran in to get a wheelchair which I knew I wasn't  going to sit in, but I was trying to regain composure and wait for a pause in contractions to be able to walk in. Didn't happen. So I just yelled my way through them waddling into the hospital, yelled going up the elevator, yelled at the check-in desk while the nurse tried to ask me some kind of stupid questions like my address or something.
     They sent me into triage and tried to get me hooked up to everything so I could get a round of antibiotics, which I didn't make easy on them. I was begging for help or drugs or anything to help the pain of the contractions that were so close together I don't think I ever stopped screaming. Poor other women on the floor... My water broke in there, Damon tells me, and I started apologizing for getting everything wet. I really need to stop apologizing for things like this. They finally moved me into a room and I shouted that I wanted an epidural and NOW! I've never had one before, didn't want one, and was terrified of getting it but I just couldn't get on top of these contractions like I could with Hudson's birth. They were so fast and so strong, I couldn't stand it. They told me the anesthesiologist would come as soon as possible but in the meantime I needed to hee hee hoo instead of yelling so much. I wish I could have punched whoever said that, right in the mouth.
     Finally the anesthesiologist showed up and started asking me questions and they tried to get me to sit on the side of the bed which is impossible when you are having the worst pain in the universe and also when your feet don't touch the ground so all your weight is supported on a baby head that is down in your rear. I finally was pulled up and clutching onto the poor anesthesiologist shirt front as he was trying to explain the risks and whatever else and I was just begging him to hurry up. But the second I sat up I felt it, that urge to push that can't be stopped or denied. I panicked, knowing the baby was coming and asked him to please give me the epidural. Well of course everyone else knew I had started pushing as well and he apologetically said he didn't think he could give me anything because the baby was coming. I screamed some more and wouldn't let him leave, as I was still clinging to his shirt as I bore down more and more. Poor guy. He finally released himself from my clutches and rushed out the room, and I was pushed back down and told so happily by my midwife that the baby was coming and it would be over soon (yeah happy for her!). After a few minutes of pushing and begging somebody to pull the baby out please and begging for it all to be over, out slid a little baby!
All I could feel was relief as the plopped the baby on my stomach and started rustling it up and Damon kept asking 'what is it!?' When somebody finally said 'it's a girl!' I was so shocked. I couldn't believe I had my little Margaret.

It was the most painful and quick labor I've had so far at 4 1/2 hours from start of contractions to finish. And the best prize in the end. I was super embarrassed about what a lunatic I'd been the whole time and started apologizing to everyone about 8 seconds after she was born and then to every person I saw through the next day when we left the hospital. It was a loud and fast labor, thank goodness because I wouldn't have made I through another hour. Maggie was the best little newborn and hours after she was born I was happily shopping for girls clothes online and deciding on a middle name. We decided on Holland, after an apostle of our church whom we love and who has an unwavering testimony of Christ's love. I hope she is as bold as he is in her testimony and her knowledge of who she is as a child of Heavenly parents. Margaret was my grandmother's name, and I hope with all of my heart she as strong, loving, and beautiful as that woman I love so much. I wish they could have met here but I know that my Maggie was held and loved by her great grandma before she made her way here to me.

Avoiding.

I don't know why I'm updating this blog. Because I don't think people blog anymore. But for some reason I'm going to now.
Because I'm avoiding.
Pumping.
My worst enemy right now.
Oh yeah we had a baby and it was a girl! Who is now 5/12 months old. I swear if we have a 4th kid it won't get a blog post til people are all like "remember that thing 'blogger' where people thought people cared and only true friends and grandparents actually cared?"
And this little girl (Margaret Holland after my grandmother and Elder Holland) fell from the 54% weight at birth to the 21% at 2 months to the 8% at 4 months which Ellis also did but still I let the worry creep on in and so I got myself a pump and hook my body right up to it twice a day to try to force more of my lowfat mother's milk into her every day in preparation for her 6th month dismal percentile checks.
I digress.

Now I forgot what I was even going to blog about. I'm supposed to put Maggie's birth story up here too. I have it mostly on my phone. I typed it on there when she was a couple of months old because I was starting to forget the painful details. I have to get that on here.

Well, I have nothing to say really... The pump is staring me down and the clock is ticking later and later and all I want to do is either online shop or go to bed. But I have to pump.

Most worthless blog post ever.

Redeeming pictures:
all outtakes from Texas 3 months ago.

When I first saw this video a few days ago, it made me really happy.  I think it's great that parts of my religion can be better explained and made known- these things are not secret, but they are sacred to me, to Damon, and to millions of other Latter-Day Saints. Many of my friends have shared the video on Facebook, but that seemed still a little strange to me, I'm not sure why. But I wanted to share it here at least, for my family who aren't LDS to learn another aspect of my religion that previously may have been strange or confusing to them. I love that now not only can you see what we wear in the temple (and outside the temple under our everyday clothing), but with open houses of new temples (ie the San Antonio temple back in 2005) anyone can see every single room inside a temple, see how beautiful a place it is, and feel the peace granted there.

 I of course have had people ask about my 'magical underwear', which is a really obnoxious way of phrasing something held so sacred to the person who wears temple garments.  I'd never go up to an Orthodox Jew and refer to his 'magic hat'. Also, I don't get why people are fascinated with what others wear under their clothes, that just seems strange. But anyways, this is what we wear under our clothing, and obviously the shapes of the garments limit what we wear to modest clothing- no booty shorts would go well with a garment coming out underneath down your leg! Same goes with things like halter tops, strappy shirts, short skirts, etc.

These are the garments Damon and I wear always, under our regular clothes (besides things like exercising, swimming, showering- obviously, etc), to help us remember the sacred covenants we made to each other on the day we were sealed together, and that we have made to our God in the temple. The temple clothing is what we both wore when we were sealed and what we wear when we go back and do temple work (whenever we can get to a temple, we hate not having one in town!).  On my wedding day, we went into the temple in normal clothing and put on these pieces, and were sealed wearing them. I then came down to a changing area where I put on my wedding dress and so my family and friends outside the temple were the first to see me in my dress which I wore throughout the day and during our ceremony at Wheeler Ranch.

Hopefully this video sheds some light on an aspect that may be confusing or just may have caused curiosity or questioning in any of my family or friends. I know many people don't read this blog anymore, but for anyone who does and has wondered, now you know!

Ellis' Pinterest-worthy First Day of Preschool

On Tuesday Ellis had his first day of Preschool!!

I had a great debate in my brains about 6 months ago when I realized that most of Ellis' friends were going to start preschool (that were his age at least) and that Ellis might start liking to hang out with other shorties besides his mother. And that I might like that as well. Also we were trying for our little #3 and it may be nice to have one less mouth screaming at me during the day sometimes. So I looked online for about half a minute before google spit out the name of a Church here in WDM that had a side business preschool and I remembered the name of it from another family in our ward here that used it sooo... That was easy.

It's only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from 9-11:30. Just long enough for me to console Hudson post drop off, visit my heaven-sent Chiropractor, and enjoy half a 32 oz Dr. Pepper at Target while simultaneously dropping $143 on neon green post-its, dove soap, clearance candles, and more (MORE! where is the perfect pair???) maternity pants.

Anyways, this post is going nowhere fast.

Here are pictures from the First Day. Minus the cute chalkboard describing Ellis at 3 1/2 (charming, hilarious, loud, dramatic when 'hurt', Dr.Jekyll/Mr. Hyde when it comes to how he treats his brother...), the adorable backpack (his is adorably huge, but it's Angry Birds, so, we both win but I lose some cause it is so ugly), all taken from my Iphone and not the real camera which I swore I'd use.

Ellis comes into our bed every morning and I try to buy more time with my cell phone games. That usually gets me another half hour before he starts messing with phone cords, kicking around, talking about Skylanders (he talks about Skylanders to everyone- especially cashiers. He plays Skylanders (whatever that means) about once a year with his uncle Jake. Yet I have to hear about them 50 times a day).

 The only picture I took of Ellis all ready for school. I tell myself it's ok cause this isn't real school anyways, it is kinda like daycare with a couple letter/number/social skills thrown in somewhere between play kitchen, playground, and snack time.

Annnnddd Hudson, after the lady came and locked the doors. Que wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Which continued for 11 minutes until I shoved a sprinkle donut in his mouth.

And Ellis loved school, he came outta there happy and excited and hyper (what the!??). When we asked what he did, he said he played restaurant (they have a play kitchen) and that they have a little house (some sort of playhouse on the little outside playground). So pretty successful.

When I was growing up we always went out to eat for dinner after the first day of school. So I carried on the tradition a little and took the kids to CiCi's pizza. Mostly cause Ellis only ever asks for pepperoni pizza anyway. Ok, mostly cause it's a buffet, and the baby wanted unlimited quantity of bad food and soda. Plus it's the cheapest option if you have 2 kids 3 and under who eat for free and it's lunch time special of $2.99 plus a drink, so like, $5 total. Also the kids will play in the arcade part for half an hour and feel like they really got something special out of it. Not that they got quarters to use in there, demo mode only, baby!

So there you have it. Nothing worth pinning, no adorable backpack, or super cute chalkboard on the front porch for a 1st day picture, just an adorable preschooler. We weren't even on time, he was the last one in the classroom. I didn't cry (I was so thrilled driving out of the parking lot with just one kid for a couple hours!) but Hudson wept an ocean. No back to school feast of home made food and decorations and some sort of valuable lesson to carry us through to May. Just an endless pizza buffet and a kid who will hopefully learn something more than he already knows from phone apps. Here's to a great 'school' year!

A nothing post on a Saturday

Once, maybe twice a week, Ellis decides he's not taking a nap. Oh I put him down with Hudson, at 1 o'clock, same time they've both been going down for the last nearly 2 years. But then half an hour later he starts pounding on the door,
  "MOM! Are you coming?"
  "NO! GO TO BED!"
  "ARE YOU COMING?"
  "NO!"
This exchange takes place every 20 minutes for the next 3-4 hours. Cause I'm an awesome mom and I make him stay in his room longer if he doesn't sleep because, I just can't. So.

Residency is annoying this month. Damon is on call one weekend day every week so today is the day and it doesn't feel like Saturday. Except we're all "Hey, we'll go to Rita's tonight and pretend it's a regular weekend party night!" but really he doesn't get to leave til 6:30 (PS: It's now 7, no word from the doc) after his 12+ hour shift. So it's 5:11 and I haven't heard hudson banging on the floor from his closet nap room to signal his anger at still being up there (shoot, I just remembered that I put him down sans pants- no wonder he's happy being up there alone and quiet -PS yes I went in and found him naked from the waist down and so happy about it), so I figure I'll see how long I can push Ellis "quiet time".

Can we make it til 6:30?
If we go to Rita's right when Damon gets home can that be dinner or should I still feed them regular food? I mean, they ate lunch at the hospital cafeteria (yup, us poories get our kicks from dad's free on-call meals) sooo...

Good news is the library is practically empty on Saturday cause apparently people do funner things on the weekend and so my kids were able to bash away at the train table to waste away an hour and a half of this morning. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough!

UPDATE:
pics the boys took while I 'cooked' them dinner of leftover spaghetti- yes, I decided to feed them something with at least tomato in it. Healthy meal? CHECK!

August, Goodbye!

How is it September already!?!?  The end of August brought us some actual summer temperatures here in Iowa- where it's been too cold to swim all summer (goodby $145 swim passes!) and then the second the pools closed, WHAM! 90+ degrees (still cooler than a usual Iowa summer, but still...) So we were stuck without a pool and stayed inside all those days, super awesome!

When we got back from our Texas trip we did have some pleasant weather, so we decided it was time to take the boys to the Iowa State Fair! We haven't been since Ellis was about 6 months old- always way too hot! We figured the boys were old enough and so it was time- and they LOVED it! They loved watching the baby animals most of all- chickens hatching from eggs, baby pics accosting a huge gross mom for milk, baby cows covered in hay, and a fish hatchery? Talapia? Strangest fair exhibit.

....... I just got bored for half an hour even writing this post. So if you read it, you are a good friend. Or one of my parents. I'll just put this one out of it's own misery now with a few maybe redeeming pics.

With some huge pumpkin, though obviously not huge enough. Does 5th place even have a verse in the ol' "First is the worst, Second is the best, Third is the one with the hairy chest!" song?

 Ellis earning his keep (of non cooked meals, an undecorated home, and no swings at the park, ever, cause mom hates the swings)

 We went all out and got the kids a treat at the fair (!). It was cute to watch but not as cute to stain-spray out of their clothes (18 days) later.

 And this magnificent creature is the spider I've become obsessed with, who has taken up residence in the air space between our BBQ and back sliding glass door. Every day he carefully builds up his web and every night I lovingly turn on the porch light to attract bugs to his nest gaze upon his glory. This is the day I finally (FINALLY!) saw him eating a bug. Ellis has named him Spider Web. Original.

Well ok then, lets just have another. 

Sorry Baby.

You are the third.

Which means even though you were planned and properly thought out (I mean, at least enough right?) your mom won't take prenatals. I hope you are getting essential vitamins from all the sushi, queso, root beer, and olive garden knock off salads we've been enjoying.

And mom won't even make any first appointments til you already the size of an avacado and have nails and the midwives will be like, 'You didn't know you were pregnant?!' and she'll be all "I'm 4 months, that doesn't even really happen to people, we all saw Breaking Amish, we know what liars TLC execs are!"

And also we probably won't tell people cause it's more fun to see ward members wonder if mom's just fat or if she's crazy enough to attempt a 3rd child during first year of dad's residency.

And when we finally have an ultrasound, it'll be awesome and exciting for us, we are so glad to see you! And then later mom will slip the little folder of photos on top of the trunk of the car while breaking up 3 and 1 year old hellians who absolutely MUST FIGHT over the plastic lawn mower that doesn't even blow bubbles anymore. And then the next day, after taking said angels to the library to play somewhere other than on the couch, and while during the time they are supposed to be taking naps but are really just yelling "MOM! ARE YOU COMING? I WANT TO COME DOWNSTAIRS!" from their locked rooms, your mom will realize she never got those pictures of you off the trunk. And so she will load up the kids in the car lock the house and frantically drive through the neighborhood and to the grocery store hoping and praying to find black and white prints of your knuckles and profile and pearly spine scattered on somebody's lawn... Come back devestated... Yell up to Ellis, 'No, I'm not coming, take a nap!" and then look over and see that dad already saved your pictures and they are next to an abandoned (for now) quilt on my sewing desk. Dad always saves the day.

If it makes you feel any better, you are currently my favorite and least needy child. You'll recieve bonus points after all this goes down if you make it here in 20 weeks instead of the 21-22 your brothers took.

My (3rd, 4th, 5th...) attempt at reviving this blog.

Bluebonnets!

Spring in Texas means one glorious thing- Bluebonnets! The state's national flower starts blooming in the end of March when it starts getting warm and after a few good rain showers. They are in full glory right now and so anyone who grew up in Texas remembers- it's time to go take pictures! Every April we'd get dressed in our Easter outfits and go find a field (or more likely, since they like to grow on embankments, pull off the side of a busy highway) and plop down in the beautiful blue flowers in the glaring sun and take 1000 pictures.

Obviously it was a priority for this spring with the boys.

Damon found a good patch behind his doctor's office so we went out the other night- and the 'golden hour' gave us the best lighting for a couple good pics! Hudson was not in good form (he never is these days) but we managed!