I love you more than cheese

My sisters and I have often argued over what would be harder to give up: cheese or chocolate. My sisters vote cheese, I said chocolate, but the argument always ends with "Thankfully, we don't have to make that choice!"

1 month old

Liam has been a bit of a spitter. No big deal, so was Annabelle. But he's also been colicky, so the doctor put in on Zantac for acid reflux and had me cut out dairy. So cheese AND chocolate.  I googled the heck out of "milk protein allergy/intolerance," and while I'm quite sure it's not a full-fledged allergy, apparently milk/dairy can aggravate reflux, so it's out of the diet for now. Which sucks. Also, after a brief spell of him doing better, I began to wonder if he really had reflux or if he had just been fussy and was now outgrowing it, so I decided to skip a couple of doses. Big mistake. I'd rather not talk about it.

Two months old

They talk about the depth of a mother's love, and to me, this is it: Liam, I love you more than ice cream. More than chocolate milk. More than buttered popcorn, lasagna, pizza, quesadillas, cream filled donuts, cheeseburgers, milkshakes, yogurt, M&Ms, and cheesecake brownies.


The good news is that he's doing a lot better. He's very smiley and quite talkative (shocking, as my other two children are veritable mutes), though I think he is justifiably concerned that I might take a bite out of his cheeks or thighs.

After his blessing. And yes, those cheeks are as delicious as they look.

And at the risk of sounding like I'm complaining that my diamond shoes are too tight, Dave's paternity leave is officially over and he heads back to work (upstairs) tomorrow. It's been great having him around and we'll miss him, though with a super emotional postpartum wife, screaming baby, and 2 crazy girls, I'm sure there were many days he would have preferred to go to work.

Skater moves!

It's Booty Time again!

This is Dave here and I am commandeering the blog again for a moment to let you know about an awesome event that I'm participating in in less than two weeks and to ask for your support. For the second year I will be riding in the annual 24 Hours of Booty bike ride in Charlotte. It's a 24-hour bike ride that raises money for national and local cancer initiatives. 

I don't have to remind you how much cancer sucks, but through events like this, through the stories we hear and see and through the people we meet, I feel blessed to be reminded how much good is out there, especially when you see so many rallying together to support and push forward.

Allison provided a great recap of last year's event on the blog.  So what came of the money raised?  Many of you helped last year and one of the key results of these and many other donations was the creation of a special, dedicated workout facility to allow cancer survivors to get back to activity at their own pace, not feeling self-conscious about their recuperating bodies.  This facility has received great reviews from those who use it and the goal is to create another such facility in a different area of the Charlotte Metro area this year and to further extend the physical and occupational therapy options for these fighters as they get back on their feet.

So far as a team we've held a 24-hour garage sale, a semi-formal gala, food events and more and now we're coming down the home stretch and I just want to ask for a little more help if possible to meet my personal goal of $2500 raised and to reach for our team goal of $100,000.

You can help here by making a donation of any size.  Your support is greatly appreciated and if there's any way I help you feel more a part of the even, no matter the distance, let me know.

24 Hours of Booty is a registered non-profit that has raised more than $7 million in the fight against cancer. Funds raised are divided among local cancer initiatives and LIVESTRONG.

Introducing...

Magnus Falcon Danger Whitley

To appease the birth certificate people, it's actually spelled William Patrick. But it's pronounced Magnus Falcon Danger.

There's a long version of the birth story below, but for those that want the short version: Magnus was born at 3:02 am on June 20, ten minutes after arriving at the hospital. It was painful and chaotic and crazy, but also completely awesome. In hindsight, I'm glad it went the way it did. He was 9 lbs, 8 oz and 21" long. We're completely smitten with this little dude.

To make a short story long...

The birth--it's long, but I'm writing down the details for me:

I can't decide if my labors are fast or the longest labors ever. After three kids, you'd think I'd know when labor starts and frankly, I'm still not sure. I start getting Braxton Hicks contractions (painless, irregular contractions, though they get pretty regular for me) in the second trimester, and they slowly get more uncomfortable as the pregnancy progresses. They were pretty regular in the evenings the week before we closed on our house, but after we closed, they eased up for a few days. As I mentioned in the last post, at my appointment on June 12, my doctor said I could go any day. By Friday, I felt like I was having hour-long contractions. These continued over the weekend, and after sweating it out in the bathroom at church I was ready to find the anesthesiologist in our ward and ask for the epidural right then. Then it passed, and I felt fine again.

I woke up Tuesday (June 19) determined to have a fun day with my girls, since my doctor was REALLY sure I could go any day now. We went and got donuts, took them to a friends house, ate, laughed, and had a great time. The scheduling nurse called and I turned down the induction--we'll let him come when he's ready. I was having irregular contractions all day, but not bothering to time them, since I could walk and talk through them. They started getting more uncomfortable as the afternoon progressed, but dangit, I was determined to have a fun pizza dinner with Mabes and Annabelle! We did, but I was feeling pretty crappy by the time dinner was over. I took them upstairs, showered them, and Dave put Mabes to bed while I put Annabelle to bed. I had a pretty strong contraction while singing to her (who knew "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" could feel so long?), but hey, I could still sing, so it must not be a real contraction, right?

Just in case this was the start of labor, I decided to take a shower. "They" say that can slow or stop contractions if it's not real labor, so I figured it was worth a shot. I felt great...until another contraction would hit. But maybe they're spreading out. I crashed on the couch and emailed the friends that had volunteered to watch the girls, in the off chance this was labor. I was not convinced. I called my mom. I was timing them, and they'd be 5 minutes apart for a while, then they'd go 6 or 7. And then 4, but then back to 5 or 6. Besides, I really didn't want to bother anyone in the middle of the night, and I didn't want to drive all the way uptown to be told it was just false labor. I was hoping the contractions would die down for the night, resume the next morning, and then my doctor (who wasn't on call that night) could deliver the baby.

I went to bed at 11, and slept off and on between contractions. Finally, I got up around 1:45 to use the bathroom and after timing a few more contractions, I decided that even though they were 4-6 minutes apart, they were hurting enough that I should probably go in. Then my water broke. I just said, "Dave! We've gotta go!" and he was up. I called Julie to let her know and she said she'd be right over. I got dressed, called the doctor's answering service, and threw things in my bag as I answered the nurse's questions. That call took ridiculously long. She asked when labor started...um, I don't know. But I hurt now. She put me on hold to call the on call doctor. At this point, I just wanted to go outside and get some fresh air and just kept thinking, "don't throw up in your front yard...don't throw up in the neighbor's yard--you haven't met them yet!" Dave started the car and I just collapsed in the front seat with the air blowing on me. Finally, the nurse came back on the phone and said, "Okay, the doctor says you can head in to labor and delivery..." I wasn't waiting for permission, I was calling to tell you I'm on my way! "...is there anything else I can do for you?" "No, I need to go now" I whimpered and hung up. Julie drove up, and I had wanted to give her instructions or a hug and tell her thank you, but I couldn't move. Dave talked to her, though, and she understood.

As we headed off at 2:30, we decided to forego the freeway and head up sidestreets--my GPS said it was faster at 34 minutes. 34 minutes?!?! That sounded like an eternity. But thankfully, at that time of night, lights were in our favor and we were making really good time. I just kept watching the line where it said how many minutes left until the hospital. Focusing on that got me through each contraction, which were probably 2-3 minutes apart at this point, and pressure in my back and tailbone were building. During each contraction, I was praying we'd make it to the hospital in time; during each (short) break, I'd convince myself they were slowing down and maybe I wasn't in real labor yet.

We pulled up in front of the hospital, but had a red light where we needed to turn to get to the parking garage. There was another car and cop on the other side, but as soon as the cop turned the other way, Dave gunned it through the light. I would have kissed him had I been able to move. We made it to the "moms in labor" parking and Dave asked if I wanted to wait while he got me a wheelchair. I said something like "get a wheelchair, but I'm not waiting here!" I staggered out of the car and up the steps to the lobby while Dave grabbed my bag and followed. As soon as we walked in, the security guard got us a wheelchair and started giving Dave directions to L&D on the 8th floor. This suddenly seemed incredibly far away. As I collapsed in the chair, the guard asked how far apart my contractions were ("on top of each other") and if I was feeling the urge to push ("yes!"). He just said, "Okay, I got this" and he quickly took us to the elevator, used his badge to call it immediately, and then practically ran to L&D. When he got to the nurses, he explained and asked what room I was supposed to be in. A nurse there had a gown ready for me, and it didn't occur to me to go to the bathroom for privacy (I *think* the security guard left immediately, but I don't really know)--I just stripped in the middle of the room, put the gown on, and curled up on the bed.

They put the monitors on me, one nurse grabbed my left arm to put an IV in (really?!?!), and another nurse (Ashley) came and checked me, "She's fully dilated, +2 station--call the doctor. Allison, just breathe through the contractions." This was all too familiar; I had to breathe through contractions for 15 minutes with Annabelle and it hurt. I was still in disbelief that it was actually happening, so I asked if it was too late for the epidural. The nurse just laughed and said, "The baby will be here way before the anesthesiologist!" At least there was hope the pain would be over soon. I was curled up on my right side breathing through another contraction, but when the next one hit, I said "I can't stop him--I feel like he's coming out now!" IV nurse told me to hold still, I wanted to yell "You hold still!" but didn't have the energy. Ashley said, "Okay, Allison, go ahead and push...lift up your leg..."(I was still curled in a ball on my right) "push again..." another nurse swooped in, "Here's your baby!" I just stared in disbelief, and looked over at Dave, who had the same look on his face. And IV nurse finally finished placing the IV.

With Ashley, the nurse that delivered him.

As I watched them dry him off, cut his cord, and remark on what a beautiful healthy baby he was, I was amazed at how much better I felt. The contractions had stopped, pressure was gone, and I just felt amazing. One of the nurses took the monitors off me, looked at the contraction/heartrate printout and laughed--"We put this on you as soon as you got in here at 2:59, and he was born at 3:02 am! I think this is the shortest printout I've seen!" He weighed in at 9 lbs, 8 oz and is 21" long. He has dark hair (for now; both my girls did, too), chubby cheeks, and is absolutely perfect.

How to make a pregnancy fly by

1. Be your ward's Primary President: Actually, I don't recommend this. It's a lot of work. A great experience, but hard. It certainly took up time that could have been spent obsessing about pregnancy (or at least documenting it in a blog). I've been in Primary since Annabelle was born, and I'm going to miss those kids, their awesome comments, and wiggle songs. Relief Society chairs are uncomfortable. I'm not going to miss the Saturday night/Sunday morning emails and texts scrambling to find subs.

Our new house, Dave, me, and the watermelon I'm holding in my shirt.

2. Buy a house: When not spending Annabelle's naps doing Primary things, I've pretty much spent the last year watching the real estate market, waiting for the perfect house to pop up. We had narrowed down our search to pretty much 2 neighborhoods, and then kept second guessing ourselves when what we wanted wasn't showing up in our price range. We made two offers last summer; one was a foreclosure that we were outbid on, and one was regular sale we weren't willing to go up to what the seller wanted. With the pregnancy and the owners of our house getting ready to move back in, we were a bit more motivated this spring. Then a house came on the market that had a lot of what we wanted, but was much bigger and priced well over our max. I ignored it. But then we saw that they were dropping the price a lot every week. Figuring they were motivated, we low balled, they countered, and we were able to reach a middle ground. And while the price was on the higher end of what we were looking to spend, with the way interest rates have changed, our monthly payments are what we would have paid for the foreclosure I was so sad to lose last year. And we got a lot more! Definitely worth the wait.

In their new outfits Grandma Ostler made. Annabelle kept running
around saying, "I a pincess! Ooooh la la!"

3. Have two older kids: These girls keep me on my toes, but when they're not fighting and yelling, they are adorable and so much fun. I just look at Mabes and wonder when she got so big. And Annabelle has the funniest personality, I could (and sometimes do!) just sit and watch her all day.

Playing. On a makeshift slide. Because that's what you do on Saturday mornings.

At Mabes' end of year party at school. Annabelle was mildly happy to see Mabes.

4. Move into said house 2 weeks before due date: We closed and moved in the next day. I had originally wanted to take more time, but that just wasn't happening. And with the way my body is, I was having regular (but not painful) contractions the week leading up to closing, so I wasn't able to pack as furiously as I'd liked. But the baby stayed in, we closed, and had a crazy weekend of moving. In the week that followed (last week) we finished moving out of the old house--all the little things under sinks, in closets, etc., cleaned it out and turned in keys Saturday. It was a huge relief to be done with that. I'm still surrounded by boxes and we can't find lots of things, but we're slowly making progress. The upside is that I'm so uncomfortable, I can't sleep much anyway, so I have more time to unpack.

5. Stay active: At the beginning of this pregnancy, I wanted to try to be stay active and see if that made pregnancy, labor/delivery, and recovery easier. "They" say it does, but "they" say lots of things that turn out to be total crap. Plus, I was in a regular routine and figured I could modify it pretty easily. I'd been training for a half marathon when I found out I was pregnant, and my doctor was supportive of me continuing that. I had to modify my pace, but I did it. I had to stop running around 18 weeks, due to Braxton Hicks contractions, but kept up with cardio and weights. A few weeks ago, I was mad that despite regular workouts, I felt like crap and was getting huge. My belly is bigger than it was with Annabelle. I wanted my early mornings back. But now, looking over the last few months of craziness, I'm thinking there's no way I could have survived (especially running boxes up and down stairs) had I quit exercising early on.

So here I am, 39 weeks and 2 days pregnant. At my appointment last week, my OB said I was ready to go and predicted I'd go before Father's Day. That freaked Dave out a little, because he had some stuff he needed to wrap up. I assured him that Dr. B did us a favor because whenever a doctor says that, you always have at least another week or two. We needed it! At my appointment Monday, he admitted he was surprised to see me, said I'd made even more progress and he was willing to induce me if I wanted. (Both girls were fast and bigger; I was induced a few days early with Annabelle and it was a great experience.) Today (Tuesday) was the only day open, but I turned it down. As much as I want to hold my baby, I feel like this pregnancy has flown by and I'm not ready to force him out. I'm extremely uncomfortable at times, but not miserable yet. I still haven't packed my hospital bag, and I have plenty to do around the house. So I'm staying busy today and frankly, I'm pretty content to still be pregnant. It's really hot today and the crampiness/achiness has picked up, though, so I may start getting antsy soon.

We're on our way...!

to Target.  I hear they have Coke products on sale this week.  Where else would we be going right now?

Overheard tonight...

Allison: "I don't want my kid born on June 19th.  Prime numbers piss me off.  They think they're so awesome."

What's in a name?

People are always asking expectant parents if they have decided on a name yet.  With Em, we had decided on her name years before we were even pregnant.  With Annabelle, it took more than 24 hours past her arrival before we came to a decision.  To relive that fun story, visit this post.  FYI, we are the type of people (Dave mostly) who would not tell you the name, even if it were already set in stone.  He also hates it when siblings share the gifts they got others for Christmas before the gift is opened and I think Joel has his back on that.  He likes a surprise and will lie to you in order to protect the element of surprise.

With that, here are a list of names that we may or may not be considering for the coming manchild grouped by their characteristics.

Places

• Provo
• Wiltson
• Niles
• Khartoum
• Tlahualilo
• Eugene
• Pineville

Sports-based Names

• Lavell
• Dean
• Merckx
• Prefontaine
• Chipper
• Rick Flair
• Coach

Foreign Names

• Sander
• Mateo
• Boris
• Petronilo
• Lars

Historically Significant, Scriptural or Literary

• George Washington Carver
• Mr. Darcy
• Amalickiah
• John Jay
• Nebuchadnezzar
• Philo
• Faulkner

(In case you need a reason to not choose "Adolf Hitler" see this story from people who brought us Snookie, The Situation and the rest of the gang.)

Celebrity-type Names

• Gumshoe
• Androgena or Androgene
• Stargazer
• Squash
• Handlebar
• Kardash

So here's our starting point.  Or maybe we'll actually discuss names for real some time.  (But Dave won't tell you.)

From the Mouth of Mabes

In the past couple of weeks Mabes has lost 2 teeth -- 1 from the top, 1 from the bottom -- while at school.  Apparently, this is the height of cool.  (We're trying to get her to describe it with, "This is pretty boss!" or "Man, this is cherry!" but she hasn't taken to it yet.)  The most recent tooth fell out Friday during math and her teacher was able to turn it into a handy object lesson in subtraction.

 (Pictures taken around bedtime, thus the slightly more disheveled look.)

One of the more unfortunate parts of this experience was that the Tooth Fairy must have had a packed schedule after the second tooth because she forgot to make a financial transaction in exchange for the tooth that night.  It is quite a pitiful and somewhat wrenching sight to see your child return from her room one morning holding the ziploc bag with her tooth in it and then, with a solemn face and voice, asking why the Tooth Fairy didn't come visit her that night.  :-O

Schedules were amended and the situation was corrected the following the night.  She was upset after the first tooth fell out recently when she noticed that the dollar bill she received had a small tear in it, so agents of the Tooth Fairy made sure this was not the case this time around.  But Mabes noticed a blue mark on the back edge of the dollar bill to which she commented seriously, "I think this dollar bill was meant for someone who lost a bluetooth."  I love the technology vocabulary that she possesses at such a young age -- even if it is sometimes misplaced.

In other Mabes-isms, we were in church a few weeks ago and the speaker in sacrament meeting mentioned that he grew up in Alaska.  I pointed this to Mabes who had been coloring or reading or something to try to get her to pay some level of attention.

She thought that was very cool and -- of course -- had a comment:  "Wow, he must have seen a lot of -- "  Hold that thought.  How would you expect that sentence to be completed?  What would someone in Alaska probably have seen a lot of?  I was expecting "snow" but I could also understand someone in Alaska seeing a lot of water, polar bears, moose, mountains, igloos or even big trucks. 

But, no, that is not what runs, skips, hops and twirls through the mind of Mabes.  She was impressed by his home state and said, "Wow, he must have seen a lot of fish sticks."  Yes, he must have.

The _________ twos

So Annabelle turned 2 over two months ago. She's changed a lot in the last couple of months, so maybe it's best that I didn't do this on her birthday. A summary of Annabelle at two:

The bad
-She poops in the bathtub. She's only done it twice, but that's two more times than Mabes ever did. She preferred my sister's foyer.
-She likes to scream in public, and has found it effective in getting me to leave craft stores.
-She repeats what she wants until she gets it. She doesn't care if you ignore her.
-She hits Mabes. We're working on this.
-When holding hands and walking, she likes to play human obstacle course by jumping in front of me and laughing when I try to not trip over her.

I only mention these things to illustrate that she is a two-year-old. She can be a stinker and drive me nuts. In spite of the above, however, she is quite possibly the cutest (or among the cutest, Mabes) two-year-old ever. I want to rip my hair out almost every day, but I find myself saying "I love this age!" every day. Some highlights:

-She's funny. She has mastered the side-eye and give me looks that seem to say, "Okay, mom..." when they are well-deserved.
-She has the cutest run/dance/skip.
-She insists on wearing her sunglasses in stores. That, combined with her pigtails, gets her a lot of attention. She plays it cool, but it's an act.
-If she doesn't get the desired attention, she'll wave at other shoppers until they notice her. Then she plays it cool.
-She absolutely adores Mabes. The highlight of her day is when Mabes gets home from school. She looks forward to this all day, and it even makes her want to take a nap. From the time she gets up, she starts talking about her afternoon plans: "Eat yunch, take a nap, and TADA! Mabes home! Ow-side, PAY!"
-She's picked up Mabes' habit of saying, "Ta-da!"
-She's also picked up Mabes' habit/insistence of wearing cat ears ALL DAY
-She likes playing with balls and has a surprisingly strong arm and good aim.
-When we exercise at home, Annabelle likes to join us. She uses Lincoln Logs as her weights.
-She got a mini-trampoline for her birthday and I could watch her jump on it all day
-I know there's a bunch more, but I'm getting distracted by the cuteness of Annabelle "flying" outside and I can't think. And now both girls are covered in mud from "flying" into the giant mud puddle in the corner of the yard. *reverie over*



Sarah had commented that she was pretty sure Annabelle's pigtails could cure cancer or something. I would agree. I'm thinking pigtails+trampoline could be my happy place for labor:

Hey look, I still have a blog!

I'm still slacking on my blog. My excuses:

-Busy with church
-I'm ridiculously tired all the time
-Winter sends me into a funk (not the good kind), and I think pregnancy compounded that.
-Finally finished Sharon Kay Penman's Welsh Trilogy (aka 1,920 pages of awesome)
-Busy eating my weight in chocolate chip cookies
-Whenever I get online, I somehow end up looking at houses instead of doing whatever I had intended to do.
-My kids are actually doing pretty well (more on that in later posts, if I ever get around to it) and I'm afraid that posting that will change it.
-I just haven't wanted to.

So there you go. Spring is on it's way and my street will look like this in a few days:

So I'm hoping to find some motivation and post some pictures of the girls.