Not Quite the Trip I Had in Mind...

A couple of months ago, Scott told me I needed to get the girls out of his hair so he could tackle remodeling the bathroom.

Ahem. Finishing the remodeling that started a year ago. Possibly two. With things like this, it's best for the marriage if I don't really keep track. (For the record, he is even more kind. He never keeps track of how much laundry or cleaning he does. That's how I know I married up.)

So, I pack up the girls and our clothes and a bunch of car snacks and prepare to go see Memaw and Poppa. It's only a 1o or 12 hour drive. And I so have never done anything remotely like this. But whatev.

Just before leaving, Scott asks me to drive him to his work truck, which was parked in Springville. So he hops in the car too, and I figure we'll just say our goodbyes in a couple of miles when I drop him off.

And that's when the coolest thing ever happened. A surprise vacation. That sweet man got a week off work, had made crazy intense arrangements, extra packing, purchased necessary foodstuffs (Larabar, how I love thee) and managed to have absolutely everyone in on the secret. And we were heading down together. To go to Disneyland. Well, and other places. But what else matters? Disneyland is everything.

P.S. Surprise vacations rock.

Waiting for a show at Sea World. Which was totally created by tired parents who just wanted to sit down for 30 minutes and recover.

When we went last February, we found this awesome Indiana Jones hat and decided to pimp it out with ears. I'm crazy about it. So is he. (Scott. Indiana Jones is busy.)

Check out that castle!

Waiting for Small World

All decked out for Halloween!

The girls' hats are simple and matching. No frills. I think it's actually their vintage style circa maybe 1960s? I love seeing them!

Holding his girls. Or at least the little ones.

I think we all know how cute this is.

Betsy feeding the goat.

Avie shows warranted caution about the sheep.

As Told In FB Status Updates

Perhaps I will finish her baby blanket before Avie goes to college. Assuming I ever get a working sewing machine.

Wore long pants on Memorial Day. In Utah. What the heck?!?

Whenever Betsy gets a time-out she now insists on "loves and kisses." I cannot fathom that someday when she's in trouble all she'll want is a quick retort.

Collard Greens: Nobody cooks 'em, 'cause nobody eats 'em.

Avie does NOT need any more blankets or silkies draped over her head. Thank you, Betsy.

Watching the video monitor while Betsy pretends to sleep. Why is she repeatedly telling herself she has a stomachache (a word I've never heard her use) and why is it being said so cheerfully?

Organized Betsy's dresser. Or one drawer thereof. Is that enough to call it a productive day?

Avie will take only one kind of pacifier: the kind we lost. Go us.

Are there any diet plans out there that mandate living off of Cheerios? I could do that.

Singing "The Memaws on the Bus" is getting a little old, yo.

Dinner, make thyself.

How long should baby acne stay around for? And how do I avoid ending this sentence with the word "for" without sounding uppity?

Betsy can now open the bathroom door. Goodbye, privacy.

I liked it better when Betsy's toys were her toys, instead of my cooking, cleaning, sewing, and organizing supplies being her toys.

I heart baby belches.

I think it has finally hit me that Scott has a real job. Too bad it's taken NEVER SEEING HIM to hit the point home.

Betsy just "taco"-ed her baby doll. Man, that was cute.

Betsy and I just watched our first movie together: the old R&H Cinderella with Lesley Ann Warren. She loved it. I loved that she loved it.

Definitively, there is nothing more delightful than the way baby feet stay scrunched in so close to the body.

It doesn't matter how delightful the day has been; bedtime seldom comes too soon.

Having two kids means a bit less time with your spouse than before. But the moments, now scarcer, are more treasured, more intimate, more sacred.

Hmmm. I think Avie is a pacifier baby. I've never had one of those before.

Drumroll please: Gospel Doctrine teachers... for the third time in our marriage.

Scott worked 70 hours this week. Hopefully someone will re-introduce us on his next day off. (Which, I think, is the Sunday after next.)

A Happy Family: Welcome Avielle!

She's here! In all her tiny IUGR glory, our little girl has arrived! Determining her status as a high-risk baby and the ultrasounds, NSTs, prayers, fasts, and eventual induction that followed afterward is probably another post for another day. It can be summed up by saying we assumed she was already an awful lot like her mother -- maybe a bit high maintenance?

Turns out she's just as delightful and easygoing as a babe can be! Although, she's only a week old today, so I could be jumping the gun. Nothing like posting a sentence like that to jinx things, eh?

After endless deliberations, we chose the name Avielle just a few days before her arrival. I can't say why, but this time around it felt very important to have it mean just the right thing. There were names I fell head over heels for, but we just couldn't do it -- the meaning was too dorky. Like Charlotte (a feminine version of Charles, which means "full grown, a man") or Cecelia (a feminine version of Cecil, which means "blind, dim-sighted"). It just wasn't working. We came across Avielle, and I knew the meaning was perfect. It's Hebrew (note the -iel and -el endings all over the OT: Israel, Michael, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc.) and translates as "God is my father."

I'm not crazy about the fact that this name is 100% obscure, but it is who my girl is. It fits. Also in its favor is that it ends -elle, just like mine. That's kind of nice, right? I think so.

Betsy is utterly entranced by her sister. Although it might seem redundant, I wanted to list all the cute little things Betsy has said about Avielle. (And whenever she starts in on one of these, it gets repeated about 10 times before she allows the dialogue to move on.) "I love her. I love that baby Avie!" "I love love you." "Baby Avie is so cute!" "I like you, baby Avie!" "I love my baby Avie's head" She adores giving hugs and kisses and holding Avie, holding her fingers and talking about how tiny they are, can say Avie's full name (Avielle Hope Shea) and is generally her ridiculously cute self.

But the sweetest of all our new-family moments is when Betsy tries to wrap us all up in a giant group hug whilst declaring , "We are a happy family! A happy family!" This is often followed up by a round of repeating"I love us," or "I love you, Momma; I love you Daddy; I love you baby Avie!" or some other sweet little statement of affection. It is precious, and while I'm not naieve enough to think it will be this way every day, I'm optimistic enough to hope they will always cherish each other.

Oh -- and no worries about Avielle's health. She weighed in at 5 lbs. 4 oz. and was an absolute trooper during birthing. Her heart rate never dropped, and she arrived in record time. She was thoroughly examined in the nursery and only given an IV for saline to thin out her red blood cell count. She's putting on weight well, nursing quite nicely, and snuggles up into such a tiny little soul I could happily nap the day away with her on my chest. Apart from her time with the biliblanket at home, nothing would ever clue you in to any complications.

I am so grateful to my midwives, whose incredible care of Avie and me made a difficult situation so much easier. They were patient beyond patient, and truly inspired. I'd also have totally lost it without my doula; okay, maybe I lost it anyway. I am now just trying to figure out how to show them my appreciation. I think chocolate is always applicable in situations like these, don't you?

15 minutes

As I am wont to remind you, this blog really is here for memory. Remembering what this moment in time was like, many trips-round-the-sun later, when it's all hazy with that rosy glow things get after a few years.

Not that things are terribly negative, mind you, but it's the haze that bugs me. I want to remember with clarity, precision. I want to remember so vividly that I feel I could slip back into that old skin and be perfectly at home.

What is there to remember?

• Betsy accidentally locking herself in the bathroom, whining, and declaring, "It's annoying!"
• Same forthright daughter announcing, "It's boring!" half way through every car trip -- and sometimes before she's even buckled in!
• This delicate, sensitive life inside me, gliding and kicking in her own distinct way, preparing all of us for her arrival
• How delightful this spring has been. I thought it would never come.
• The waves of (job-related) hopelessness -- the way they wash in, crash ashore, and then recede. What it feels like to try to put your hope back together afterward, wondering if the actual truth, the truth-of-the-truth lies more in the pessimistic waves or the stories you tell yourself after a good night's rest, and knowing it's best to just not think about it.
• Can't control economy. Can't control Home Depot (current job). Can't control professors. Can control our reactions. That's all.
• Betsy telling us "I'm tiny, too!" when we talk about the upcoming baby sister. This could get interesting.
• Feeling out of place in our student ward, but equally misplaced in our quirky little family ward. Where on earth do I belong? Please, Lord, just let me belong somewhere. In some aspect of my life.
• The way your spouse becomes your total salvation, your total joy and consolation in circumstances like these, how you cling together as never before
• The knowledge that apparently, the world can fall apart. But your marriage won't. Somehow it almost feels worth it, just to know that so assuredly.
• Leaving things on the Lord's plate simply because mine is too full
• Incessant anxiety about if I've done everything I should to grow a healthy baby, and how she already perceives this world to be, and if she forgives me for being the stressball I am, because I know it wreaks havoc on her sometimes
• Knowing answers will come, but not for many more months perhaps. Knowing you and your spouse might not see quite eye-to-eye until the Lord finally gives his input on important decisions that aren't to be made for a while yet
• Wondering what it means when everything lines up perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect... and then the world sends you free-falling. Did we misread the signs? How does 1+1+1+1=0?
  
• Betsy getting so big she often insists on "reading" books to herself now, and how it thrills and devastates me all in the same breath
• The continual name hunt, searching for a perfect fit for our tiny "baby sissah"
• Betsy singing so many new, fun songs to herself! She had the first verse of "Five Little Monkeys" down pat after just a night with Aunt Michele!
• Sending Betsy to timeout on an almost-daily basis, but always going in to find her pointing to Jesus. Then she talks with me about him, ending with, "I happy."

On second thought, I'm not sure I'd want to slip back into this little pocket of time, years from now. It kinda bites sometimes. But I'd happily slip back in for select moments -- moments of pure tenderness with my spouse, and thrilling two-year-old bliss with the sweetest wonder-toddler I know.

Penny!

The past couple of weeks I've kept thinking to myself there was something I promised someone I'd post, but I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was! It finally hit me today, and so I must apologize to Penny for my delay. She currently exists back in the pre-FB days and so I told her we'd post here.

Oh -- and kudos to Jessi of Creative Juice Photography! I had an absolute blast with her and felt so at ease with her. And not just because we'd spent a semester living together. Jessi is super easy-going and artistic -- exactly the right combination for family portraiture!

Mothering Betsy

I just can't believe how fast time seems to fly with Betsy. When talking about mothering, my own mom used to always say, "The years go by so fast, but man, the days are long."

I never doubted it, mind you. But now, watching her grow, my heart breaks daily. She smiled for the first time a few weeks ago. Smiled. It melted my heart. It should melt a mother's heart. And it simultaneously broke it. Another bit of newborn-ness dies. I put away most of her newborn clothes. At two months, she's getting a little big for them -- finally. And it broke my heart, too.

I have a strong suspicion that for the next 20 years I'll be constantly watching time fall away, and every tear of pride will be coupled with one of anxiety that my time with my daughter is falling away faster than I know how to handle.

Maybe that's part of my obsession with photography.

I flatter myself that I'm becoming a much better homemaker. There are rarely dishes in my sink and -- hey -- I've even made it downstairs to do the laundry. But there is so much more I could do, if only I were willing to put my daughter down more.

She's only tiny for a few precious weeks. And those weeks never come back. (Yes, I am in tears just writing this.) So dust waits. Clutter waits. And Mary Elizabeth Shea ...she doesn't wait. She has me at her beck and call. And I wouldn't have it any other way.