life lately

 

Life is so full. And we are so grateful.

Here's what you're seeing in the pictures:

We had our friends Rachel and Andrew over with their two little boys. It meant we had three boys under the age of two at our house. Which meant that by the end of the evening all parents and children were wrestling on the living room floor.

We stop the car for cows now. Every time. Because it is a big deal. A bigger deal is when we don't see any cows for a long time. Temper tantrums are thrown from carseats, yelling for Cows! More Cows! So much that now he is starting to get in trouble for throwing too big of a fit if we don't happen to be driving by any cow farms.

The woman we bought our house from is wonderful. So wonderful that she organized a neighbor gathering for us at our home so that we could meet all of our new neighbors and she could do the introductions. It was a true gift. You know how I love community.

Our friends Mark and Julie came out and helped us thin some hosta, mow down the meadow and cut down six trees. Yes, that is a black walnut being chopped up into one foot pieces. And yes, we will never hear the end of it. And yes, we will invite all woodworking relatives to our place the next time we take a black walnut tree down and they can haul the whole tree away in their truck to their own board cutters. But people, we do not have a truck or a board cutter and could not have a fallen tree in our yard for an indefinite period of time. Okay? Okay.

I've been painting! On big canvas! And based on the painting book I loved so much, I am not becoming too attached to the outcome too soon. So I have lots and lots of layers added in, picking out my favorite parts and repeating those on the canvas, only to come back and paint over it all again and again. I tell you what. I smile the whole time I'm painting. It may very well only be for me, and it may very well never be a super developed gift, but man I have a good time when I'm painting.

We talk a lot about being gentle lately. Ivar repeats all day long: MamaDaddoBaby. Like a little cadence from activity to activity. But he also has said with a big helpful smile and bright eyes, "Elsie. Down. Cradle?" as if it say, "hey guys! here's a great idea. let's put her away so we can play." They will be pals though. Elsie is now locking eyes with us and it is awesome. She smiles and responds and we cannot get enough.

loads of laundry

Adding a child to the family and moving houses has caused a few necessary adjustments in how we live our daily life. But the thing that I am having the most trouble getting used to is the laundry.

Holy moly. It blows my mind. Adding a tiny baby and moving to the farm has somehow quadrupled my weekly laundry. We all get dirty and sweaty outside and often each require two outfits a day. And we girls seem to have a knack for covering ourselves in spit up which also requires a costume change. Rory and I sometimes shower twice a day, depending on what project he is working on outside and how stinky my hair is after a day of spit up. So towels are always running out too.

It's amazing.

Just thought I'd share.

the aunts

On Tuesday my Aunt Louie, Aunt Annie and my mom came to our house for a morning visit.  From start to finish, they nurtured me. And I soaked up every minute of care and love and kindness. It started around the kitchen table eating Louie's zucchini chocolate chip cake with Culver's custard. Which was sublime. Annie brought me a colorful, beautiful bouquet from her garden and gladiolas so that I could make an arrangement.

Louie brought the August edition of The Machinery Trader from Uncle Jake and Aunt Annie left sweet corn from her garden for us to have for supper. I gave them a tour of our property and a tour of our house, and when we were upstairs I sat down to nurse Elsie. They found my three laundry baskets full of clean laundry, hidden behind our bed and as I nursed I watched these women fold every single item, and then they put everything away. It made me tear up I was so grateful.

It was treasured, sweet time, mixed with a real heaviness as the absence of Aunt Jan was so obvious. Especially when we were sitting at the kitchen table. I felt such a hollow sadness in my heart. An ache that will never really go away.

These are the glads Annie brought from her garden. Beautiful.

 

Later that night Rory opened his top drawer and commented, "wow, honey. You really are stepping up your game. Folded underwear? This is amazing."



some thoughts on nursing

I hope you see the humor in this picture with this post. This cow lives right around the corner from us and as I was looking for a fitting image I decided to picture her with this post instead of me or my children. :)

Well the title should be enough of a heads up for anyone not interested in this topic just to skip this post. But I want to write about this...and have wanted to since Elsie was one week old. And then last night I was with a great group of women at my sister's house and the topic came up again and confirmed that I want to throw my experience out there.

When my cousin Kathy's baby was just a week and a half old, I went to visit. And I said something like, "isn't breastfeeding the most amazing, beautiful and wonderful gift? I loved every second with Ivar."

I meant what I said. And I still feel this way with my whole heart. But then when I had Elsie I had a lot of trouble during that first week. And the words I had spoken to Kathy haunted me with every attempt to feed my baby. It wasn't feeling amazing, beautiful or wonderful. It felt more like ten million razor blades attacking me in one very sensitive spot all at once. It hurt so bad.

And I was awkward. I hadn't counted on having to relearn how to breastfeed with baby number two. I think I assumed I'd be well seasoned after ten months with baby number one. But Elsie was a new baby, and we had to learn everything again together.

My time feeding Elsie in the hospital went fairly well. Usually there was a nurse nearby who could help us get started. But even before we went home I felt less than confident. I had the lactation specialist come by and help. And that was sort of helpful, but I left the hospital concerned.

And as it played out the next 48 hours were really, really tough. Physically, it hurt like crazies. Can't even put it into words. Her latch was little, and I was exhausted.

But emotionally it was killing me. Elsie cried hard because she was hungry. And I knew I was the only one who could feed her. It was my job. And it wasn't working. So as she cried, I did too. It made me sad not to be able to do the thing that would help calm her down and fill her up.

Rory called the lactation specialist from the hospital and had me talk to her again. And we also called an independent lactation specialist we found through google who would do home visits. One was very helpful and the other just told stories of her own kids. Which was frustrating.

But before we had the woman come to our home, my milk came in and somehow Elsie and I started to figure out how to work together to get the job done. I wish I could say, "and then we tried... and it saved the day..." But it wasn't any one thing. I think everything just sort of clicked for us. (Though belly to belly is key. And I had to get rid of the boppy...it brought Elsie up too high. And I started taking deep breaths and dropping my shoulders right before I brought her to my chest.)

In the end, we figured it out. But not without a whole lot of tears from both mom and baby. It was a really hard way to start out our days together.

However, now, five weeks later, I can confidently say it was all worth it. Of course it was. Nursing is such a treasured time. I love that every three hours I have to stop, put my feet up and adore my baby. And I love the miracle that happens every time I walk into her nursery half-dead in the middle of the night, and how when I see her I am instantly overcome with love and affection and happiness. I still fall asleep in the glider rocker as soon as she is latched on, but for that sweet moment when we see each other, it actually feels like love sweeps over the room.

That's what I was trying to tell Kathy that day. But I also should have told her that it can also feel like ten million razor blades too.

Two closing thoughts:

I was talking to my sister about this last night after everyone left her house. Annika tried for a very long time to get her first born to latch on. But nothing worked. She had lots of consultants help, tried the little tiny cup, but in the end Annika pumped every four hours for six months (!!!) and fed her with a bottle. And that worked too. It wasn't her first choice, but I remember being so proud of her and the stamina it took to pump six times a day and bottle feed every three hours and wash all of the equipment for the next pump. It was a true commitment. And then her next two babies latched on right away.

And finally, this is my personal story with breastfeeding, but I make no judgements on moms, no matter how they feed their baby. I am fully aware that there are tons of factors unique to each mom and baby that determine the best plan for feeding that little kiddo. And whether it was breastfeeding or bottle fed, there is no greater sound than a big juicy burp that lets you know this baby is well fed.

a case of the mondays

 

Rory put my sweatshirt on Ivar and sent him into the kitchen to show me. At first Ivar was laughing, but in the time it took for me to get my camera, the sleeves fell down and Ivar lost his hands and freaked out. Which made for a great picture.

I wrote about one trying Monday here. For some reason Mondays are always a bit hairy. Which is funny to me as a stay-at-home mom. You'd think Monday would feel no different than any other day of the week when you're home and keeping nap schedules and feeding tiny mouths. But somehow everyone knows it's the start of a new week and it takes a day to get back into the groove.

Last Monday Rory came up to me, gave me a hug and said, "if you want to get all new make up, we could make that happen." I thought he was trying to cheer me up, help me feel a bit prettier with this baby weight, or was simply acknowledging how hard I'm working.

Later in the day I walked into the bathroom and spotted all of my makeup in the trash. I picked up my (wet) powder brush and yelled to Rory, "why is my make up in the garbage?"

He replied very quickly, "Don't touch it! I found it all in the toilet!"

And that is why I am getting all new makeup.

Alison's Garden

 

Our next door neighbor in Minneapolis is a master gardener. Her whole lawn is flower beds and to live next door was amazing...glorious flowers to look at all summer long. These pictures are from her back yard the day before we moved.

When I was in the hospital delivering Elsie, Alison was in the same hospital trying to figure out the pain she constantly deals with in her back and legs. Now she is waiting for surgery that she'll have next week to try to bring her some comfort.

She never got to meet Elsie before we moved, so we made a trip so that Ivar could see is pal, "Alsin" and so Alison could meet Elsie. When we walked in the building, two workers were walking out and they said, "Oh you must be Alison's family! She has been telling us all about you." And that felt right: Alison's family.

the time I got stuck on a waterslide...

This dino slide is awesome. It's a foot and a half long and lands you on a cushy pad in six inches of water. I should know. I braved this slide all by myself.

I was trying to coax Ivar on it, hoping he'd sit in my lap. But he wasn't interested. At all.

So there I sat, with my dry swim suit, apparently blocking that little water nozzle by Josie's hand with my leg. And let's be honest. I was a bit wider than the slide. And at this point completely dry on the slide with bare legs.

This wouldn't have been a huge deal, I mean I wasn't stuck stuck. Just sticky stuck.

But what made it really awkward was when the life guards started blowing their whistles and walking towards me yelling at me, "Mam, that slide is for the children. You cannot be on that slide."

Well yes, I can imagine that is the case. Obviously.

"You need to get off the slide."

I agree. I'm just trying to pivot onto my left hip. Give me a minute....

And then I traveled down the foot and a half and splashed into the six inches of water and then made sure the lifeguards understood that I was definitely not trying to be defiant.

Josie and Maddie thought it was quite entertaining. And Ivar still didn't go down the slide.

mom brain

                                                                                                 Sara made that cake!
Last Thursday morning I said to Rory, "tonight when the kids go to bed I need to go to Target to get Kirby and Josie's birthday presents for their party tomorrow."

So all day long I worked on my Target List: more milk, cream, cereal, baby wipes..."

When I got to Target I looked at my list and wondered why I didn't just send Rory to get this stuff. I got it quickly, and came home.

Friday morning I woke up and it hit me. I had gone to Target to get birthday presents for Kirby and Josie. But I hadn't written that on the list, and therefore I was giftless.

I called Lisa and asked what Josie wanted and she bailed me out and said she had an hour glass for Josie that could be from us. I could pay her $10 at the party and she'd throw it in a gift bag for me.

Then I called Sara and asked what Kirby still needed on his list. And she mentioned that she was going to Half Price Books next and would get him a reading light from us and I could give her $10 at the party.

Ah, Grace. It's such a good thing.

I told them both how I had actually gone to Target to get them their gifts. And that the effort should count for something. They agreed and I was so grateful for awesome sister-in-laws.

And so then at the birthday party, Kyle and Lisa watched our kids so Rory and I could go down the water slides a few times and putz in the lazy river. It was awesome. At the end of the night Sara came back to the lawn chairs with her teeth chattering saying she was going down each water slide one more time with Kirby and Toby and did anyone want to join her? It was cold and no one took her up on her offer. But she was doing it for her boys.

I told Rory, "Sara deserves the Mother of the Ward Ayear."

"The what?" he said.

"The Mother of the Ward Ayear."

And then I heard myself. Mom brain. "The Mother of the Year Award!"

4 weeks and 10 minutes old

4 weeks ago, we were just meeting Elsie Rebecca. At this moment, she was 10 minute old. What a sweet memory.

On Sunday I dressed Elsie in an outfit I wore when I was her age. My mom did an awesome job at saving her favorite of my outfits and now I get to put my little girl in them, 31 years later.

the county fair

Saturday was a pretty perfect day. We planned on going to the fair for just an hour or two, and ended up staying half the day. We watched the 4H champion animals auctioned off, shared a bag of mini donuts, watched Ivar eat corn, saw all of the farm animals, took in the arts and crafts building, caught the tractor parade (!!) watched some young girls ride their horses through an obstacle course, and one of us cried hard when it was time to say buh bye to the cows.

...we had to get a picture of the ladies with the pink tractor. :)

the whole blog truth

I've mentioned this before.

Blogs are never the whole truth. There are lots of reasons for this...but today I'll focus on just one: I tend to blog based on pictures I have taken. And I only get the camera out for moments I would like to remember. Days like Saturday are filled with great pictures: a blissful day at the Dakota County Fair filled with tractors, corn-on-the-cob, cows and very, very happy children.

But days like yesterday, a run-of-the-mill Monday, the camera never comes out. No pictures are taken and the day goes by unrecorded.

But Monday happened and was just as much a part of my life as Saturday was. So today I am going to record it in words.

My Monday really began early Sunday morning with Rory and I both wide awake with an upset Elsie from 1-3 am. We were trying to figure out what I ate, why she was so gassy and were pleased by the Olympic reruns to help distract us from our upset baby.

Sunday night had a similar wakeful time, leaving me completely wiped out by the time Monday morning came around.

My plan from the moment I got out bed was to keep my pajamas on and to wear my glasses so that I would be ready to take a nap when my kids did.

Why that is the recipe for a train wreck day, I will never know. But it always is, isn't it? Because Ivar never napped. And at 7 pm, I finally resolved that the nap was not going to happen for me either.

The day never really started. I was putting out little fires here and there, tending to a crabby boy and a don't-put-me-down baby girl. We moved from room to room, leaving messes in each one. And finally the day was over.

Did I take pictures of any of this? No. Because my family wasn't quite what you would consider photogenic. But if you want to take a mental snap shot, you can picture me with my long bangs I am trying to grow out, stuck in my eyes all day. With big dark circles under my eyes and a nursing bra that had a broken clip on one side and tank top covered in spit up. And the odds are very good I am popping a donut hole in my mouth.

Obviously that picture isn't going on the blog. (Well, maybe just the donut holes...yum.)

Just keep this in mind as you read my blog, or anyone else's, or as you look at perfect facebook pictures, witty and clever twitter updates and everything else we throw out there to project ourselves as nothing less than perfect.

Ivar discovers corn on the cob

Turns out he likes corn. A lot. He ate two ears on this park bench at the Dakota County Fair. A very happy and full-of-laughter moment for all of us.

squeaker

Elsie,
You are so noisy at night. Your dad said to me a few nights back, "it's like we have a smoke detector with low batteries." And it sort of is. You squeak, grunt, gurgle, swallow, cough, coo, sigh and smack your lips all night long. Our little squeaker, we love you so much.

We thank you for your sleeping habits. So far, so good. You are a joy to feed (after some serious hard days in the beginning) and I treasure our special nursing times with me half asleep in the glider rocker in your nursery looking out over our new yard. It's good stuff, Elsie. And I am so glad for the good reason to sit down every three hours and to put my feet up. God knew what he was doing when he built in this regular rest time into a mama's daily routine.

You go with the flow, and are pretty kick back. But you also let us know when it's time to pay attention to you and give you some snuggles. After a crazy first three weeks of moving houses and getting settled in, it is time to stay put and snuggle. And that's the plan from here on out. I can't wait.

You could not be any sweeter little girl.
We love you so much.
Love, your very happy mama

no cow farm

While driving back and forth last week between my folks' place and our new place we kept talking about what we should name our new 10 acres. We have been calling it "the farm" but knew there was something more clever and perfect for our new home.

It turns out all of the nice tree and Groves combo names have already been taken by suburbs or middle schools: Maple Grove, Oak Groves, Cedar Park...

When we would tell Ivar we needed to get in the car to go to the farm he would get very excited. But then when we got to the farm the first thing he would do is inspect each building and announce, "no cow. no cow."

He thought we were going to Jake and Louie's farm. The one with cows and tractors and Ida and Stella.

He still looks for the cows each morning and night as we take our family walks around our new property. His neck stretches ahead of his body, hopeful that maybe that little red barn has a moo in it. And then he lets us know, "no cow. no cow."

So for now, we're No Cow Farm. A farm that is hopeful to one day have chickens and maybe bees, certainly a huge garden and fruit trees. And perhaps one day a cow. 



we're here! *

*Dear Reader,
You probably have noticed by this point that I have not mentioned a whole lot of details as to where "here" actually is. This is intentional. Knowing that this world wide interweb is pretty awesome, but also aware that I tend to share a lot on this blog anyway, we decided not to be quite as specific as to Where our Here is. Obviously I'll blog about local stuff, and you may get a general idea, but let's just say that I won't be putting up our house address like I did in Minneapolis.

:)

We officially moved our family into our new house on Sunday afternoon. We spent the ten days before that living with my folks, which was a really good decision. It was a great breather between moving out of the old house and moving into the new house. And we used that time to have the bedrooms painted before we moved the stuff in, unpack the kitchen and bathrooms and watch a lot of Olympics.

Now we're living in the midst of boxes.

Newsflash: it is impossible to get much of anything done with a newborn and a one year old. Oh, you knew this? I am learning to let boxes sit in the middle of the room and trying to be okay with it. And I am very grateful for all of the help we've had in moving furniture upstairs, boxes in from the garage and for my mom's help in a much needed trip to Target today.

We are thrilled to be here. Feels like a vacation home so far. We adore this house and the land it is on and keep talking about how the whole move just feels so right. And that is a really good feeling.

buh bye jij. buh bye anon

We left behind some very good friends in Minneapolis. I always felt so well cared for and looked after by our neighbors. On every side we had friends who really loved our little family, loved our little boy and stopped by for frequent "Ivar Visits."

George and Katherine lived behind us across the ally. And we loved them and they loved us right back. When I put Ivar down for naps and bedtime, I'd hold him on my hip as we twisted the blinds closed and Ivar would say, "nigh nigh jij. nigh nigh anon."

And when we pulled out of the garage, Ivar would look at their house, wave and say, "buh bye jij. buh bye anon." Katherine often came over with a ball she found while on a walk, or a toy she found that her kids used to play with. Ivar got some cool trucks this way.

When we came home from the hospital, this sign was taped to our door waiting to greet our new little girl from Katherine. It's hard to put into words how much we are going to miss our neighbors and friends on Girard Avenue.

sleep

Everyone says to sleep when the baby is sleeping. Which is terribly hard.

But to sleep when the Olympics are on? Seemingly impossible.

life lately

Six days after Elsie was born, the four of us moved out of our house so we could take apart the beds and cribs and box up the rest of our life. Our Ford Focus once again acted up on moving day. That car hates to move.

Seven days after Elsie was born we closed on the sale of our house and signed our names 900 times.

Eight days after Elsie was born we made the move with a 24 foot Uhaul packed to the ceiling.

Nine days after Elsie was born we hung the baby swing in the big oak tree in our new front yard, unpacked the kitchen and got the lawn mower charged and ready to ride.

And now we are living between our new house and my parents home, watching the Olympics, napping and getting our boxes unpacked.

It actually has gone quite smoothly. I'm exhausted, but that's sort of to be expected. Elsie is a champ and my parents have been fantastic in holding all the pieces together by holding a baby late at night,  getting up with a little boy at the crack of dawn and keeping this mama well fed. We couldn't do this without them.

Elsie's birth story

You know how they say every pregnancy is different?

They're right.

And you know how they say every labor and delivery is different?

They were right again.

I cannot get over how right they were. My stories with Ivar and Elsie are so different, you would wonder how we come to the same end result: a baby. But somehow, each birth story ends with a tiny bundle with whom I am wondrously in love. This tiny little Elsie, all snuggled up in a ball on my chest after every feeding, has grown my heart bigger. Amazing how there is always room for more and more love.

My birth story with her begins on Wednesday. I felt like things were beginning...I had some back pain, some moments where my belly tightened. But nothing notable until the middle of the night on Wednesday. Then the contractions were worth timing. They weren't unbearable, but they were in my back and it wasn't any fun either. Spaced about 10 minutes apart, I kept thinking of all the stories I have heard of baby #2 just "shooting out of me" and since we were three days overdue, I decided to call my mom so she was here with Ivar if things progressed quickly.

She arrived at 4:30am and by the time she walked in the door I was packed and ready. Except my contractions had stopped. So we all slept until 6:30 when Ivar decided it was time to start the day. He was noisy and agitated. He never wakes up that early and was crabby about everything. At one point I heard him say "mama's phone" and this is only noteworthy because it would be four days before I finally found where he had hidden "mama's phone." An unfortunate time to lose your phone and phone numbers...just before having a baby.

My blessed mother took Ivar home with her at 8:00 so that Rory and I could sleep. We slept until 10 and woke up new creations.

We went to my scheduled OB appointment together. I was sitting in the lab as they took my blood pressure and was telling my nurse that I had been changing my underwear hourly since about 4:00 the day before. I laughed and made a comment about how bodily pregnancy is and how strange some of the symptoms can be, bodily, like peeing your pants slowly. But the nurse didn't really laugh, and soon all of the other lab techs had turned their heads to look at me. They kept their eyes on me as my nurse said, "that's probably amniotic fluid. Your water may have broken."

Big Difference #1:
Now if you remember, my water breaking with Ivar was quite dramatic. I liken that moment to a fire hydrant being drained on a hot summer day. It was an unmistakable moment during my labor with Ivar in which I cycled through every pair of pajama pants and ended up sitting on a black yard bag all the way to the hospital. But this was so slow. Nothing like I expected.

The doctor did two tests and told us she was sending us straight to the hospital. It was such a surprise. I was having no contractions. I was feeling great. We had already planned on having Taco Bell for lunch. But now I was going to have a baby instead. We ran home, grabbed the suitcase, told our neighbors we were about to have the baby, and drove to the hospital.

They took me to a room right away. My nurses were waiting in there for me. I went to the bathroom to put on my hospital gown and made a joke about having closed the door...I knew we were about to all get to know each other beyond the need for privacy.

They hooked me up to pitocin and told me I could have my epidural whenever I wanted. I was dilated three centimeters and I was going to have this baby quickly so I didn't have to wait any longer to have the epidural.

It felt like cheating. I didn't feel like I had earned it yet. But I took it.

Big Difference #2:
After my epidural with Ivar I have often commented that my epidural was the best moment of my life, followed six hours later by the birth of my first born son. And I'm sort of exaggerating when I say that and sort of completely serious. My epidural with Ivar was along the lines of euphoric.

But this time it was a little different. I got the shot and immediately felt nauseous. Started throwing up pretty soon after and threw up even through the pushing. I lay back and I could feel the epidural moving up my body...my chest felt tight and then my tongue felt fat. I told the nurse and she had me sit up immediately so gravity could help the epidural back down. I couldn't move my toes and when it was time to push I had no idea where I was supposed to push.

I remember with Ivar's epidural I still could feel the contractions a tiny bit and knew exactly where to direct my pushing. But this time I just tensed my body as hard as I could, bearing down and hoping that what I was doing was sort of in the right spot.

It also made my skin itch. I was so itchy.

It wasn't as awesome as Ivar's, but I still plan on having an epidural with my future babies. I know I was having some strong contractions, but I didn't have to feel them. So I'm still a fan.

My labor progressed slowly. Rory went to get subway and came back with a Real Simple magazine for me. We watched HGTV and Rory read parts of the paper to me. It was very low key. We were just waiting for the nurse to tell us we were progressing.

After seven hours it was discovered that I had a second bag of water. They called it a fore bag, and I have no idea what that means other than the baby was pushing hard to get into position, but this second bag was slowing things down. My nurse broke that bag and told me we would have a baby very soon.

Our doctor appeared with her purse on her shoulder, made a comment about the traffic on 62, set her purse and bags down, and told me we were ready to have a baby.

Big Difference #3:
I pushed for ten minutes. TEN MINUTES! I pushed for two hours with Ivar. But this baby was ready.

Rory had told the doctor that he did not want to make the gender call. It felt like too much pressure. So it was the doctor who announced, "it's a girl!" And I was overcome with happiness.

I cried the ugly cry. Couldn't believe my ears. I had done a pretty decent job to convince myself it would be a boy, mostly because I knew I really wanted a little girl. And I was nervous about feeling something less than joy when the baby came. But when she said it was a girl, I could hardly believe it. The past nine months I have bought a few items for a little girl...hoping. And then she was laying on my chest.

Elsie was beautiful. She looked so much like Ivar to me, just after he was born. I was taken by her fingers...they are so long with beautiful nails. She kept them by her face and snuggled in a little ball on my chest.

The ending of this birth story is the same as Ivar's. Our hearts were overflowing, we were instantly in love. Elsie is wonderful. She sleeps a lot, eats a lot and fills her diapers like a champ.

We're gonna keep her.