Zora's Blessing

On her 3rd week birthday, we blessed Zora.  It also happened to be Father's Day.  Ok, it didn't just happen to be Father's Day.  I intentionally chose Father's Day because I thought it would be sweet for her father to bless her on Father's Day.  I was not disappointed.  I don't normally get emotional about baby blessings because for some reason I always have babies when we have 9 o'clock church and I'm just excited/stressed/exhausted/happy that I made it to church on time with a 3 week old baby (actually, my babies are usually less than 2 weeks old when we bless them so my parents don't have to fly out here twice).  But Zora's blessing was just a little more special.  Not that Greg said anything outstanding.  It was your standard baby blessing but it just felt more special.  Maybe because I'm nearing the end of my child bearing and Zora may very well be our last child (we have yet to decide so don't go getting all crazy.  It's like the second coming at this point, only God knows whether we'll have more or not) and I was just trying to soak in the last of our baby days, who knows, but it was a special blessing and I really wanted time to stand still on that day.

In fact, I still want time to stand still.  I want to have a baby, a 2-year-old, a 4-year-old, and a 7-year-old forever, but I don't want to have a million kids in order to do that.  Aside from Zora and her near-constant crying (she's getting better), life is pretty perfect.  OK, not perfect but I really enjoy the ages of all my children and just want to be in this stage forever where my biggest worry is Henry peeing on the floor and a kid not playing the game Rex wants to play at school.  These are trials I'm willing to bear.  I do not want older kids with real problems, or kids over the age of 8 who are accountable.  That stresses me out.  I also feel like this is the time of my life that I have looked forward to and planned for for my entire life.  Being a mom is always having a baby and a 2-year-old.  If you don't have an infant, you are obviously no longer a mother and your children don't need you.

I guess what I'm saying is, I'm just really enjoying life right now.  I'm 2 weeks behind on ironing; no body had clean underwear last week; I found 2 Tupper ware of hairy grapes in my fridge last week; and there are about 3 packages of Goldfish on the floor of my van, but it's ok.  One day I'll be caught on the cleaning but then I won't have a baby, and toddler, and preschooler, and a sweet sweet boy.  I'll have a house of snotty teenagers and I can wait a million years for that.

Speaking of teenagers and since this is also the Father's Day post, I have to apologize to my dad:

When I was in middle school and high school, my dad commuted from Tracy to Palo Alto every day, which, depending on traffic, was a 2 hour drive each way.  Eventually, a train came to Tracy and he took that but it also added a bit to his commute.  He left the house every morning around 5 am and got home after 6 pm.  Take that in a for a minute: he was either driving to or at work for 13 hours a day and on many days had just enough time to eat dinner before running to church, as he was also the bishop.

Of course, as a bratty teenager, I had no respect for his feelings or just how exhausted he was for the entire 9 years we lived in Tracy or gratitude for all the bread-winning he was doing.  Nearly every night when he got home from work, I'd be waiting for him to help me with my math homework.  He'd walk in, Dad I need help.  I don't get this.  And this whine and that whine until he helped me.  And then, about half the time, especially in middle school, I'd end up crying and yelling at him because it was his fault that my teachers didn't do a good job teaching me and he only remembered how to do stuff with his computer because, honestly, who draws pie charts by hand when there's every computer program ever to do it for you?  But still, every night, there was he with pencil in his hand (he can't think without a pencil in his hand), helping me with my math homework.

And now I have to help Rex with his homework.  He's not to the point where his homework is actually difficult, it's just annoying but having to sit with him while he does it....shoot me.

So Dad, I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I didn't let you sit down for 10 seconds after sitting in traffic for 2 hours.  I'm sorry for blaming all my math problems on you.  I'm sorry for crying all the time while doing math.  I'm sorry I got older than 7.  I'm just sorry.

But I did get a 5 on the AP Calculus test and managed to pull a B+ in Honors Calculus at BYU.  And I still remember that for every unknown, I need an equation.  So thanks Dad, even though, because of you, I also cannot think math without a pencil in my hand.

Is this not perfection in a picture?

I mean really, how could you not just melt when your 4-year-old looks at your 3-week-old like that?

My sorry attempt to get a good picture of the blessing dress

Grandma Pattie made this cute blessing dress

Ok, I'm actually really mad about this picture.  I mean I found a skirt that fit me, curled my hair, coordinated my outfit with Alice and Zora, and I couldn't stand with my legs together like a lady for a decent picture?!?

The men folk who stood in the circle to bless Zora

everyone minus our photographer Erick.

First family picture

You know I can't resist a chance to spend way too much time, effort and energy on setting a table.  I was really pleased with how this turned out and then I got to fill my house with flowers after.  It was great.

I had to do an close up of this vintage Pyrex bowl.  I have dibs on all of my grandma's Pyrex bowls, but my wonderful neighbor Becky Wheatley also knows how much I love them so gave me this one she found at Goodwill.  That is true love there, because I would have kept the bowl for myself.  Best neighbor ever.

The Beginning

The end of school means the beginning of summer, which means, Summer Bucket List time.  We didn't go as all out as we did last year, in that we didn't try to get half the list done in one night.  But we are slowly but steadily knocking things off our list.

First, we made the list.

Then we put it on the wall.

 First off the list, frozen yogurt for dinner.

 Next up, water balloon baseball, which was super fun, but it turns out it's hard to play an actual game of baseball when the "ball" breaks every time it gets hits.  So we just lined up and hit balloons. It was fun.

A firefly hunt in the front yard.

 I tried to get a picture of the kids with their fireflies, but they were too busy being silly.

 We discovered a new park with a $1 carousel, which wasn't on our bucket list but we had fun anyway.

We hit up the zoo with the cousins and they were back to their spring break shenanigans but the zoo was way less croweded and we had 5 adults for 7 kids and I wasn't pregnant so we had a good time.

 Don't let this picture fool you, Zora cried or nursed most of our zoo adventure.

We've also been chipping away on our 200 books; working on reading the BFG so we can see the movie; made s'mores (twice, thanks for Grandma Pattie); and picked wild blackberries from our backyard.  Unfortunately, those pictures won't load.

My mom (Grandma Pattie) commented yesterday that we're wearing her out with all our activities and wondered how we keep it up.  We don't.  We tried to squeeze as much in while she and my dad were in town because tomorrow when they leave, the party's over.  It's going to be a whole lot of tire mom and nursing baby.  We won't die, but it's not going to be pretty either.

The End

Of everything.  Being pregnant, being in school, playing baseball.  And we're free for the summer.  Too bad school and everything else killed all my creativity so I'm running low on things to do in the heat.

The Friday after Memorial Day, Rex played in his last baseball game.  His team lost by 1 point in the first round of the tournament.  He got two good hits and a few good stops.  He played well and had a good time.  I was not sad that the tournament was single elimination.  He, however, decided to not to play again in the fall.  He'd rather do karate....hmmmm

The next morning, Alice played in her final game as well.  It was HOT.  Mostly the kids just sat in the dirt and the parents hid in the shade.  Alice (along with the rest of the team) got a game ball and was pretty thrilled about it.  Alice will be playing soccer in the fall.  I guess it's good that my kids like to try lots of different sports...a bit pricey but good right?

 Then, Thursday was the last day of school.  Rex got a medal (made out of plastic) for getting the highest math score out of the first grade at his school.  He also got the blue ribbon for something or other...I think for listening well in class.  We're pretty proud of him

Rex rushing out to the bus on the last day of school.

 That night we got our traditional last day of school frozen yogurt for dinner.  We all ate too much and got stomach aches and ate a real dinner when we got home because as much as we want ice cream to work for dinner, it just isn't.

Then on June 17, Rex played in his end of season piano recital.  He played the theme to Star Wars and another song.  He also played both standing up.  He almost always plays the piano standing up.  I'm not sure why, I don't even think he does but it's cute.

 He got the Monkey Award because he's pretty silly and hard working.

 His teacher now has 10 students (only 7 made it to the recital).  She's only 14 but does a great job and we just love her.

 Rex and Elizabeth.   He'll be starting piano back up in the fall with school.  He doesn't get to not like piano.  Sorry.  Now I just have to decide when to start Alice because I really want her to have a few good years before Elizabeth leaves us for college.

Spotlight Hog

Zora was born on a Sunday morning.  Monday was Memorial Day so Greg's parents took the older three kids to Greensboro to hang out with their cousins.  Tuesday Greg got up with Rex for school, made Rex's lunch and put rex on the bus then took the middle two to my friend's house to play for the day.  She also brought dinner that night (thanks Lexy!)   Repeat Wednesday and Thursday.  Things were going great.  My friends were taking care of my kids and bringing me dinner and oogling over my baby and telling me how great I look.  Apparently Greg couldn't handle all the attention I was getting.

Flash forward to Thursday afternoon.  Greg had taken Henry out for an adventure.  I took advantage of a sleeping baby and empty house and got in the shower.  As I'm getting out, Henry waltzes in and says, "Dad cut self."  Not thinking anything of it, I continued with my post shower routine (Greg very often hurts himself).  Then I hear Greg calling him from the living room, so I put a towel on walked out to see what Greg needed.  I found him laying on the couch.  He said, "Ok, I'm holding my leg together.  I'm going to let go.  I want you to tell me how bad it is."  He let go; I looked; and for the first time in my life, I told someone they needed to go to the Emergency Room (I'm usually a put-some-butterfly-bandages-on-it type of person).  Greg called his mom to take him to urgent care.  They ended up having to go to three different urgent care centers to find one that did stitches and took our insurance.  He ended up with five huge stitches.  How did he do it, you ask.  He was on an adventure in the backyard with Henry, so naturally took his machete with him.  He stuck it in some wood, then, thinking he was being attacked by fire ants, he pulled the machete out and in the process hit himself right below the knee.  He thinks he hit the bone.  I don't disagree.  It was pretty deep.

We were a perfect mess that night.  Greg couldn't bend his leg but still wanted/needed to clean the office because my mom was coming the next day.  I was attached to a nursing baby.  By the end of the night, Greg's knee was bleeding again and looked like he'd stuck a golf ball under his stitches.  Luckily Alice is a vampire so Greg told her where to put everything and she put it away.

Luckily my mom's flight got in early the next morning and she drove home from the airport after Greg somehow managed to drive to the airport.

He took the stitches out a few days ago.  He's also managed to ride the mountain bike trail a few times without reopening his wound.  

I'm working on forgiving him for stealing my spotlight.

It's been one week...

since you looked at me

cocked your head to the side and said "I'm angry."

That's from the Bare Naked Ladies, or BNL, as my dad would say because he refuses to say "naked."

Either way, it's a lie.  It's been 15 days.  

I meant to write this post at 1 week, but you know, it just didn't happen.

Aside from not being able to blog as much as I'd like, new baby adjustments are going fairly well.  In fact, I daresay, and knock on wood, Zora may be my easiest baby.  And I think it is because I have so many other kids, who have taught me all the stuff that doesn't matter.  For example, night time feedings.  Greg sleeps on the couch.  Mom sleeps on the other couch.  And Zora and I sleep in the bed.  I've given up on trying to get Zora to sleep in her own bed.  I try every night, she makes it about long enough for me to put toothpaste on my toothbrush and then I pick sleep over having her sleep in her own bed.  So we co-sleep.  Not my favorite but some sleep is better than no sleep.

I've also discovered a new nursing technique called the natural method.  It's amazing.  Rather than fight with little claws and force her mouth open, she mostly can latch herself.  I highly recommend it.  Natural breastfeeding method.  Google it.  But only if you want to see lots of breasts...feeding babies.

The other kids, on the other hand.  Rex still mostly ignores Zora.  Every once in a while he'll acknowledge Zora's existence, and he's sweet as can be when he does.  Well, Alice still just loves Zora.  She asks to look at her all the time.  For the first few days, Alice picked out Zora's outfits and brushed her hair and even helped with her first bath.  The novelty, however, if wearing off.

Henry still just loves Zora and is actually very soft with her.  He is constantly kissing her with his slobbery, booger face.   First thing after every nap or whenever he's left a room and re-entered, "Where's baby Soo-rah?"  And then he kisses her a slobbery kiss.  He also tickles her checks.  And buckles her carseat whenever she's not in it.  And then today, Mom was holding Zora and Henry climbed into her stroller and refused to get out.  He's regressing just a bit.  He's also upped his naughty at least 50 times.  

Henry's naughty level as of late (hitting, pinching, hair pulling, water dumping, extra counter climbing, spitting, toy dumping, anything you can think of) has me wondering when life will go back to normal.  And then I remember: it never will.  There will always be a Zora.  We have to get to a new normal. And hopefully soon, so Henry can spend less time in timeout and I can leave the house without fear of him...being Henry on crazy naughty steroids.

Alice had a photo shoot with Zora on her 1 week birthday.  Alice has a promising career as a photographer.

Mom caught Zora smiling one day.

Zora really liked her first bath.

Zora Jane (Olie Baker)

Zora is Greg's great-great grandmother, Izora Bennett, married to Wade Hampton Crowder Sr, who named his son Wade Hampton Crowder Jr., for whom our Henry Hampton is named.

Annie Jane Pack is Rex M. Roberts' mother.  The same Rex who named his son Richard Rex (my maternal grandfather) for whom our Rex is named.

Olie is for my maternal grandmother, Diana Olie, who was named for her mother Flora Olie, who was named for her mother Annie Olie.

All family names.

I have struggled with this name.  Originally, our next girl after Alice was going to be named Mabel.  And I like the name.  But then we would be naming two girls after the same person--Alice Mabel Sides, which wasn't the reason why we didn't name Zora Mabel, but it was a contributing factor.

When we found out we were having a girl, I started looking at Family Search for a middle name for our Mabel (or at least who we thought would be Mabel).  And I found Annie.  Just about everyone in my family is named Annie.  Annie Olie, Annie Larsen, Annie Jane Pack, Ann Eliza Marsden.  Lots of Annie's.  I spent a few nights reading all the stories on Family Search about all the Annie's and called Grandma Deon to hear some other stories about her grandmother's (Annie Olie and Annie Larsen).  I had to have an Annie.  

But then Mabel Annie was a little too Southern for me.  So I went back to the drawing board and found Zora.  And then added the Jane. And I loved the way it sounded--strong and assertive without being too Southern.  But still no Annie.  And I really wanted Annie.  But Greg didn't like Zora Ann because of the two A's next to each other.  

So we were at a stand-still and decided to wait until little girl made her appearance to see what she looked like.  

And then she was born and I had to make a decision.  I still really liked Zora Jane but wanted my Annie in there too.  So I said ZoraJane Annie Baker and we went home.  When we got home, we all took naps.  Later Greg, apparently, spent some time on Family Search too.  He said he just couldn't remember the Annie part of baby's name and he found Olie, which fulfilled my Annie needs.  So then it was ZoraJane Olie Baker.  And then we wrote it down, just to see what it looked like and ZoraJane does not look good, so we separated it out and it's now Zora Jane Olie Baker.  But I still haven't signed the birth certificate.   

And I have no good reason for not signing it, but I am just feeling anti-commital right now.  I want to try the name out for a while.  But mostly I just want to call her Baby.  I'm going to see how long I can go before I absolutely have to sign it.  So far, 3 days.

 But something about this picture just looks like a Zora to me.