Sharing

Lizzie informed Steph tonight that Steph and I needed to not break the humidifier in our room because we would be sharing it with Baby Sissy.

Louis CK

In light of the Presidential address last night, I thought the following clip might remind us of what we have to be thankful for.
I saw this clip from a friend's Facebook link, and it made me laugh so hard. It's a comedic routine of sorts so keep that in mind, but too too funny.



Note: In case you are like me and look to see if Louis CK has other video clips, there are plenty, but they are riddled with swearing that essential destroys his comedic value. Consider yourself warned.

Pooh Day

So the girls got a stomach bug yesterday. It wasn't pleasant and was pretty exhausting for Allen and myself.

We are now finishing day 2 (the recovery day) with a family viewing of the Walt Disney Classic Winnie the Pooh.

I had forgotten just how much I had enjoyed watching these same cartoons when I was little, and now that I am watching them through older eyes, I appreciate them all the more.

For example, who knew that Tigger was the first to use texting lingo in regular conversation, "TTFN...tah-tah-for-now" and before texting existed!

The things one learns from taking a sick day with your children.

Stones

Steph’s been having lower left of her stomach pain for a few days. Normally Tylenol took care of it. But yesterday was different. Nothing would work. We call the midwife. “You better come in.”

Great neighbor watches the kiddos. We drive to the hosptial; labor and delivery unit, simply because Steph is 33 weeks.

Pain med, couple of lab tests, diagnosis: kidney stones.

We got home last night to a wonderful homecooked meal (same great neighbor [who has three of her own kids] ! Thanks Ashley ! ). The pain is better (demerol at the hospital; then Tylenol with codine at home), but Steph is tired. The kiddos didn’t get a nap yesterday so they went to bed early and we are very grateful they went to sleep right away; no fussing. Steph and I went to bed super early for us (10pm).

Steph is recovering: the diagnosis helps mentally, the medicine helps physically. Little One is a-okay. Kicking strong and quite perturbed by the monitors yesterday thank-you-very-much.

We’re all tuckered out, but glad everything will be better soon. Thanks to those of you who saw my status on Facebook and prayed. God heard.

Between the Smiles There is Silence

Today I found myself staring, for sometime, at the pictures that cover our refrigerator. Pictures of family and friends from various times and places. As I stood there I reflected on the fact that most came to us in a Christmas card, and thought of the blessings each card spoke of, as they recounted the year. Then as I poured over the pictures I couldn't help but think of the things that went untold. The divorces, deaths, and heart wrenching troubles that brought so much pain to the author. Many who experienced these painful times sent no letter to tell of their year, but let the silence speak for itself, as quietly as it may. I began to ponder why it is that Christmas letters have become an art, and not a chance to be true to the realities of life.

People work tirelessly finding just the right way to paint the canvas of their year, and put it in just the right light, so that it looks beautiful to all who behold it. Yes, sometimes within that landscape is the mention of the politically correct ugliness of life, such as physical injuries, job loss and in certain situations death or even divorce. But, even these often get painted with a fine brush, gently stroked over the page, so as to blend nicely with the piece.

I thought longer and realized that one could also go too far the other way. Too much discussion of ones woes could lead to a very ugly and dark work that might lead to self pity and various other sins. Then you would have another piece of art, only this one would be more Gothic in nature and might frighten small children.

We need balance in our telling of the truths of life. We MUST tell of the blessings God has bestowed upon us, but we MUST also require the prayers of our brothers and sisters as to the matters which torment our souls and leave us paralyzed in a heap of a sobbing mess on our knees before the Father. And we should also be willing to share these moments of pain with the unbelieving people in our lives, so that they can see that even through struggles Christ brings us through to the other side in ways one cannot possibly make it through without Him. We need to tell of the pain between the smiles, with more than our silence.

I must admit that I too did not send a card this past Christmas. In part because of being in Washington for a month to visit family, partly because I planned to send a card with the announcement of our new arrival this spring, but if we are being honest, there was also part of me that couldn't bring myself to share my year with you. I struggled to think of how to paint my canvas, and then found myself bouncing between Gothic and Impressionistic. But all of it was kitsch art, because it wasn't my work, but my cliche inability to step away from the norm and tell the truth.

Christmas has come and gone now, but this spring when I send out my letter, I will attempt to find the balance between truth telling and struggle dwelling. I want to share all the amazing blessings of 2008 and the the beginning of 2009, and also ask for your prayers as I (and my family) deal with the struggles of life.

On that note, if you want to receive an announcement/letter please email me your address, and we will be sure to get one to you!

Gratitude

Background 1
Our normal bed-time routine for the girls is as follows -

1. jammies time
   
2. brush teeth
3. story time in Dora chairs
4. hugs and kisses
5. pray time

Background 2
We are in the middle of a manners campaign - Pushing the girls to: ask nicely for things in full sentences, say "Excuse me" after bodily noises, be quick with thank you's when they're appropriate, etc.


A couple nights ago during hugs and kisses, right at the last big squeeze of her and me hugging, little Miss Ellie tooted. Funny, regardless of the situation, but manners are manners. So I said, "Ellie, you tooted. What do you say?"

Ellie: "Thank you."

Name Game

Okay friends, Steph and I are still in our “can’t figure out what to name our child” slump. I’m asking for suggestions. Real ones. Well meant, at least. Lizzie’s suggestion today was “Princess Sleeping Beauty.” That could work, but what do you use for a middle? Ellie’s suggestion was “Toys.” “Ellie, pick up your toys please… no, not the baby, put the baby down!” So that’s a no go.

Whattaya got?

p.s. We’d prefer a name with a Hebrew origin (Elizabeth and Eliana are both Hebrew) and in a perfect world, the first and middle names would add up to five syllables (like her sisters).

Crying from their room

There was a good deep cry tonight coming from the kids' room. Definitely Ellie. Sounded pretty upset. I (Allen) rushed in. Sure enough, Ellie has quite a distraught face. I kneel down beside her.
"What's wrong, honey?" Ellie looks up...

"My baby's poopy."

Growing Too Fast

Ellie had her 2 year check-up last week and is doing great. She is still at 70-75% for her weight, and surprise, surprise , 90-95% for her height.

She is growing so quickly physically and mentally that I sometimes forget that she JUST turned two.

Yesterday the girls were playing together when I looked over to find Lizzie laying on her stomach on the ground and Ellie sitting on her waiting ever so patiently for her big sissy to lift her for a "horsy ride". I explained to the girls that they were about the same size and that Ellie was just too big for Lizzie to be able to lift her. They seemed satisfied with that answer, and without saying a word switched places, at which point I tried to explain that Lizzie was also to big to be lifted by Ellie. I know I confused them, but they eventually relented and walked sweetly up to Allen and ask, "Can YOU give us a horsy ride?".

Ellie is becoming so independent, (though she still falls for many of her big sister's schemes). Her latest phrase that she loves to use on Lizzie, is "you not da prarent, you da sissy!" I think that says it all.

Vegan Fashionista

A story or two about the eldest.

Lately Allen and I have taken to asking the girls what we should name baby sissy. They usually reply with the various names of the babies that they know about, including Baby Jesus. The other day we were sitting at the dinner table, and began asking the girls once again for inspiration in the baby name category. With the most serious of faces Lizzie suggested what I think is my favorite name so far...Tofu (did I mention we have recently switched to a semi-vegan diet :-) ).


On a more serious note, today my planned peaceful day indoors (hiding from the cold) was jolted into a day indoors trying to stay sane. It was a horrifying moment when I heard the thud and then ran (as fast as a pregnant woman can) to the screams coming from the girls room, only to find my 3 year old under her dresser. She is fine, though I never knew a child could have so many bruises.

Why was she under the dresser you might ask, (I know I did)?

Apparently, there was a very important bracelet on top of the dresser.

The lengths a girl will go to for fashion!