Thanks, Aunt Lisa!

We got our big box of Christmas gifts from Aunt Lisa today. After school, the kids opened thier ornaments...

Heidi and Addie decided the fairies were for both of them and the animals were for me and daddy. Whatevs.

James loves the flashlight!

Recent Photos

UPDATE: After I posted this, James and I went to my 2nd official OB checkup. We heard baby's heart thumping away at 152bpm and everything looks good! We have the big ultrasound on January 4th, so check back to learn the gender! YAY!

Last Saturday, December 4th, I stayed home and did some Christmasing while Rich and his brother Mike took the kids on a cross-country skiing picnic. Gearing up
Skiing in to Pine Creek Campground

Heidi's already tired!

Daddy saves the day!

They made it to the picnic area!

James & Daddy

Uncle Mike pulling all three tired kids

wheeeee!

Uncle Mike makes a great one-horse open sleigh!

Heidi and Addie at the car

We topped off the day with a warm, yummy dinner at Applebee's in Bozeman and a quick trip to the outerwear sale at Kmart for new thinsulate gloves (it only took one ski trip to learn we needed new ones!)

***

Our Christmas Pixies (Secret Santas) brought us a fun book to read for Christmas. When you get to certain pages, you open a gift that goes with the story. The kids were loving it! After our baths on Saturday night, we finished the book (My Master's Touch, the story of Jesus from the perspective of his donkey).

***

Monday, December 13th was St. Lucia Day so we invited the Melin grandparents, Uncle Mike, and the missionaries over for dinner & our little celebration (telling the St. Lucia story then talking about the symbols; reading Mosiah 16:6-9, D&C 11: 28 , John 8:12).

For the first time I baked real Lussekatter, sweet buns made with saffron. They were good, but I think we'll just cheat and add cinnamon next year since the saffron is more expensive than gold!

Here's our little St. Lucia procession...

Addie/Lucy serving lussekatt to Elder Brown

Our St. Lucy

Happy St. Lucia Day, everybody!

Song for a Winter's Night: A Cautionary Tale

First, some background info. I have been super sick for 26 of the past 30 hours, barfing up my toenails. I am pretty sure it's pregnancy related because I have also felt a huge hormonal surge and it seems like the baby grew a foot over the past week. So anyway, I am all spacy and weak, but grateful to be up and feeling better. I finally stopped barfing at about 10am, so I got dressed and went to get my lab work done at the clinic. I stopped on the way home for some dinner ingredients, came home, and started preparing tonight's dinner and stew for tomorrrow night's dinner. I put on the new Christmas music mix I made for the Christmas Breakfast at church on Saturday and started chopping.

So when Sarah McLachlan's cover of Gordon Lightfoot's "Song For A Winter's Night" came on, I went on a little walk down memory lane. I remember listening to it as a little girl and just loving the song (not really getting the heart-wrenching meaning) (because Gordon Lightfoot was a religion at our house). Then I had a little Gordon renaissance after college and an old beau and I figured out the chords and we preformed it together a few times for friends. After we split up, it still gave me a little twinge of pain and memory of that good time. But today as I listened, my heart just broke for missing my Grandpa. And not really for me missing him, but for my Grandma without him this season. And then I went from a trickle of tears to The Ugly Cry and I had to get a paper towel and calm myself. I finished the stew and turned on the crock pot and came to the computer to see if there was a video of the song I could post.

I clicked through a few different videos, then clicked on the one posted below. It's dedicated to our military men and women. Cue more waterworks. Then I was crying for Brent, away from his wife and new baby for the holidays, and thousands of others like him. SOB! SNIFFLE! So maybe it's just me and my gestational hormones, but I dare you to watch this video without a box of tissues. If you are lucky enough, like me, to be holding the hands you love this holiday season, hold a little tighter and be thankful. And reach out to those who are alone this month.



The lamp is burning low upon my table top, the snow is softly falling
The air is still within the silence of my room, I hear your voice softly calling
If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love on this winter night with you.

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead, my glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon the page the words of love you sent me
If I could know within my heart that you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love upon this winter night with you.

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim, the shades of night are lifting
The morning light steals across my windowpane where webs of snow are drifting
If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love and to be once again with with you.
To be once again with with you. --Gordon Lightfoot

Mothers Day Blooms

As summer turned to fall, I noticed that all three of my Mother’s Day flowers had stayed alive this year (in fact, one of them is still thriving in my bedroom window sill). I found this very symbolic (cuz I’m a symbol/patten-seeker, you know) because this is the year I feel like I grew into my motherhood (better late than never, huh?).

What I mean by that is that I finally feel like I deserve to be a mom and I am doing a decent job of it. For the first eight years, I was mostly white-knuckled and horrified that I was constantly scarring my children for life because I couldn’t be the mom I had planned on being. I never foresaw how difficult being pregnant would be, and my fantastic motherly visions certainly never included being exhausted or sick half the time because of a stupid auto-immune disease. For those first years, I pictured myself wearing this Mantle of Motherhood like a robe that was way too big for me, stumbling and fumbling around, trying to see out the hood and get my footing so I could wear the the thing more gracefully. This year, that mantle feels more like my awesome fleece bathrobe, that fits and feels warm and comforting and perfect for me. This doesn’t mean that I am the mother I want to be, but it does mean that for the first time, I can take a deep breath and tell myself, “You can do this. You’re good at this.” And for the first time, I am thoroughly enjoying my children. I guess when I was knee-deep in babies and toddlers and illness, with all those physical demands and sleep deprivation, I just couldn’t see how wonderful it was all going to be when those babies turned into walking, talking, reading, thinking, opinionated, interesting individuals. I can’t get over the delight I feel when my kids express their own totally unique ideas or aspirations. I feel devastatingly lucky to be their mother. I mean, I am their one and only MOTHER. And God thought this was a good idea—isn’t that such a huge vote of confidence from Him?

So this year I finally found the true joy of motherhood and I found my own sweet spot, so to speak—I’m not necessarily a baby person, but after the baby comes the child and I am super into these school-aged kids. This realization led me to wish that I could have at least one more baby and try to enjoy it, knowing now how fast the baby days go and all the fun things that come later. James also had a hand in my making this wish—of all my children, he is the most fascinated and delighted by babies. Smitten is a good word, actually. He is just beside himself around babies, and I have felt so bad that, while all his friends have become big brothers or sisters, he would never get to do that. We have wished together that we could afford a little brown brother from a Haiti or a little Chinese sister. However, we learned that adoption is prohibitively expensive. Sigh. But the feeling would not go away.

This seemed strange to me, since after I had James, I had a very clear and comforting feeling that I was done. In fact the exact words I felt in my heart at our first family home evening as a family of five were, “There—now everyone is here.” So I wasn’t too distraught when my deteriorating health pretty much ruled out any more pregnancies. Rich was more than happy to do his part to be sure I didn’t have to suffer through another pregnancy, so he got “fixed” when James was 2 months old. We mentally switched gears, gave away our baby stuff, savored James’ babyhood, and got on with the business of raising our three children. So last August, after having this nagging wish for another baby, I knelt down and asked Heavenly Father to please either make me feel peace about having three children or to please provide a way for us to get another one.

Then my dear Grampy passed away, and all my emotions refocused on grieving that loss and helping my darling Gram through this hard time. For three weeks in September, I ran on auto-pilot in that bubble of comfort that God sends to the broken-hearted. To celebrate my birthday on the 24th, Rich took me on a delightfully edifying date to the temple in Billings. It was just what I needed to kind of bind up my wounds and move on—to start my own little new year. We got to Billings right before 5pm, so I told Rich we should go straight to the temple and then go out to dinner afterward since we were kind of early. It was a lovely session, but in the celestial room I suddenly felt totally exhausted and totally ravenous. It was probably my blood sugar plummeting, but I thought I was going to pass out. I rose on shaky legs to go change into my street clothes and we beelined to Johnny Carino’s where I scarfed the herb bread and then my lemon-rosemary chicken and spinach. It tasted so dang good! I remember the passing thought, nothing has tasted that good since I was pregnant. (All the ladies who’ve been there know what I’m saying, right?) So we headed home later after some shopping and hit the hay around midnight. At 3am, I got up to use the bathroom and thought about how staggeringly tired I felt. And also how weird that I had to get up because I just don’t usually have to pee in the middle of the night. I reached into the bathroom cabinet and grabbed a pregnancy test (what possessed me, I don’t know, except for that inkling of faith I had that maybe this was the way God would answer that prayer I said).

It was so hard not to scream at 3 am. Let me just tell you, that pink line appeared instantly, like a neon sign and I could.not. believe. it. I thought to myself, “Now I know why Abraham and Sarah laughed!” I laughed. Then I cried, thinking, “Oh my gosh, I am going to die. I am not healthy enough to do this. This baby will kill me.” But then I thought about how this is a miracle, a literal miracle, and if God can put a baby in there, He can also give me the strength to gestate and deliver it. I tip-toed into the bedroom and showed Rich the stick, which I am sure was like some kind of crazy dream to him. We freaked out a little, then laid there in bed talking about what-the-heck we were going to do. I was mostly terrified that it was just an anomaly, not a miracle, and that I would miscarry just like the last time I found out I was pregnant on my birthday, 5 years ago. I almost had the confidence to believe that this time was different, but I decided to keep it to myself just in case. We calculated that I would be 14 weeks right around Thanksgivng, graduating from m first trimester, so we would tell the kids then. A few weeks later, Aunt Marti and Grandma called and said they would come for Thanksgiving, so we decided to reveal the news at TG dinner. The first comforting thing that happened was that I got super nauseated, right on schedule, on October 11th. Even though it’s horrible, the sickness is a sign of rapidly increasing hormones and healthy, beautiful babies, so I’ll take it!

I have regular thyroid hormone checks, so I called to schedule my labs on 9/28 and asked that they include a urinalysis to confirm pregnancy. My nurse, Gloria (she was so excited), called back to confirm and scheduled an ob intake exam with the nurse practitioner on 10/13, then I had my regularly scheduled appointment with my doctor on 10/22. She had just come home from her annual women's’ medical trip (she goes places where women need better care, like the middle east and Africa and rural South America, this time to Morocco), and boy, was she surprised. She did an ultrasound and I measured 9 weeks rather than 10 (where I thought I was), and she changed my due date, picking the middle between May 20th and May 27th. I felt so relieved hearing a strong heartbeat and seeing everything developing on schedule (you may recall that my first clue that I was miscarrying in 2005 was no heartbeat at the 10-week ultrasound—it was terrible). So I kept all that info and suffered though the rest of my first trimester (and Halloween—ugh!) with a big secret.

It was so fun revealing our pregnancy at Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone who knows our history responded the same way—“We’re having a baby in May!” and they said, “HOW?” In my mind, the response has been the same as God's to Abraham: Is anything too hard for the Lord? Apparently not. So I add my testimony to Abraham’s (with caution and sensitivity because I know that there are many righteous desires just don't come and we don't know why), that nothing is too hard for the Lord. If our righteous desires fit into His plan for us, they will be granted in due time. It will be interesting to see how this little soul stirs things up for us.

[I've been looking at old baby pictures to psych myself up...this collage makes me sleepy, though, so I think it's NAPTIME! yaaaaaawwwwn!]

After Thanksgiving

So...the dust has settled on a beautiful, exciting, relaxing, snowy (the most snow I have seen here in 8 years!) holiday week. Grandma and Aunt Marti are headed back to Arizona on their airplane as I type We are so grateful for all the effort they made to come here and be with us, and for Uncle Ralph and Scott coming, too. It was a terrific visit and such a happy Thanksgiving and birthday week for Addie.


The day after Thanksgivng--Friday--Uncle Ralph, Scott, and Richard headed up to Mill Creek to do some cross country skiing (they took Heidi, too). Gram, Auntie M, and I stayed home with James & Addie and decked the halls for Christmas. When the guys got home, the tree was up and most of the decorations, too! Then we headed out for a matinee of Tangled and a yummy dinner...

"Tangled" was a very fun movie. We all enjoyed it--I liked the music a lot.

Addie brought her two friends Hailey and Sarah to teh movie and dinner with us to celebrate her 9th birthday (it was on Sunday, so we waited a few days for a friend party) at Fiesta en Jalisco.

Rich, James, Marti, Ralph...

Cousin Scott, Grandma Lyn, and me.

Addie in the birthday sombrero--"Ponchita!"

Our waiter and our friend/owner of the restaurant, Ponciano, singing to Addie.

We had such a wonderful day Friday--Thanks, Uncle Ralph!

***

On Sunday morning, we braved some snow storms and headed to Helena for baby Emily Post's blessing. We left at 6:45am and arrived just in time for 9am sacrament meeting!

The adorable Post Family after Em's blessing:

Jacob, Amie, Emily, Matthew, and Sam

Emily snuggled with her Great-Grandma Lyn

Two beautiful girls!

Aunt Marti, Emily, Heidi, and Grandma (yes, that's my hand)...snugglfest!

Heidi is going to be such a great big sister!

Here's the little lady fo the hour, Miss Emily Post chillin' with her daddy

(Emily was born, by the way, on the famous ettiquette expert Emily Post's birthday!)

"Mama said knock you out"...how cute is that?

Here's what Em thinks of the papparazzi!

She's like a little pink marshmallow and I could just eat her up!

Matthew=cutest doting daddy EVER!

Addie loves her baby burrito!

One last peek-a-boo before we left for home...bye, Emily!

***

Today we just cleaned up and got Gram & Marti packed up. It was so nice to visit quietly and have the girls back at school.

Grandma & Richard (& James) saying good bye on Rich's lunch hour.

We picked up the girls from school and went straight to the airport at 3:30pm...

Grandma, Me, and Aunt Marti at the Bozeman airport.

Gram, Marti & Addie at the airport

Heidi stayed buckeld in and waved good bye from the car.

Addie and Gram...ADIOS!

***

So we've just had family night and the house is all quiet. We miss our company already!

Hope all is well with you! Happy Monday!

Happy Thanksgiving!

We cooked for two days and finally took a little break around noon today to watch some Charlie Brown Holidays DVDs...Cousin Danny, Rich, James, Heidi, Cousins Scott, Grandma Elrey, Aunt Marti & Adeline
Father & Son

Marti & Addie watching Peanuts Thanksgiving...

Then Grandpa & Grandma Melin brought over the extra table and we set up for TG dinner at 3pm. Grandpa Melin sat with his grandkids...

Kids' Table clockwise: Addie, Danny, Rosalie, Grandpa, Heidi, Hannah, & James

***
The Spread:

We decided to serve buffet style to eliminate lots of passing of the food...

Grandma Elrey & Rosalie, BIL Davey, Uncle Ralph & Richard

Uncle Mikey looking over the grown ups' table

Grandma Elrey & Grandma Melin at the buffet

***

Aroudn the dinner table at "Say what we're thankful for" time, we revealed that we are having a new baby in May (ETA May 25th). Everyone just about choked on their food, and my darling Adeline burst into tears of JOY. She just sobbed and said, "I wanted a new baby SO BAD!!!" It was indescribably sweet! We are all so very excited!

Heidi & Addie & me celebrating the fact that I am 14 WEEKS PREGNANT!

HOORAY!

***

Hopefully your day has been as wonderful as ours.