Jump on It

My husband is such a kid. We went to the birthday party of the 8-year old son of some of our friends. It was held at a place called Jump on It. David was in heaven and now wants to hold his birthday party there.

Facelift

Thanks to Kellie for making our blog look FANTASTIC! I'm so excited, I just want to sit and look at it (is that vain??).

Words of Wisdom - Revisited

Taking a nap is good.

It is wise to never criticize someone until you have actually been in their shoes. I know that is true, but I still find myself saying "I will never..." or "I will always..." when I observe actions that others take of which I dissaprove. Consequently, it is humbling to note that I now do or don't do several of these things in direct contrast to my previous words of wisdom.

For example:

• I will never marry someone who weighs less than me (have you seen my husband??)
• I will never marry someone younger than me (gulp!)
• I will never be a stay at home mom that takes naps during the day (naps are good)
• I will never let my child cry herself to sleep (just did it a few minutes ago)
• I will never let my child's exersaucer get filthy dirty (it's pretty gross right now)
• I will never let my child be covered in food and snot (you try and keep her clean)
• I will always greet my husband dressed nicely and with hair/makeup looking good (well, I do try and put on a fresh t-shirt that isn't covered in spit before he gets home)
• I will never let my child suck on the grocery cart (I try, I really try)

I could go on, but you get the point.

Weight Watcher

I have been watching my weight most of my life. Mostly I've watched it go up. I wasn't born fat. I was my mom's smallest baby at 7 lbs. 4 oz. (I think my weight problems started at about 10 months of age). I look at childhood pictures of myself and even when I was only 4 or 5 years old, I'm sucking in my cheeks to try and look thinner. I look at high school pictures now and realize I didn't look that bad, but at the time, I felt huge. Now I would love to weigh what I did back then.

A few years ago I joined Weight Watchers and it has changed, probably saved, my life. At the time I joined I had high blood sugar and was testing my blood three times a day. I had to give myself shots and take other pills as well. After a few months on Weight Watchers, my blood sugar dropped to the normal range and I no longer had to take any medication for it or test my blood. My ankles no longer swelled like grapefruit and my feet no longer felt like needles were poking them every morning when I woke up. I'll probably be on Synthroid for hypothyroidism the rest of my life, but my dose has been reduced three times since joining WW.

The main reason I joined was because 1) I thought it would help me get pregnant and 2) I knew it would help me be a better mother by giving me more energy and better health. Since joining, I have started planning healthy meals which has saved us money and improved our health. I know I'm a better mother because of the weight I've lost. I really want Baylie to develop healthy habits.

On May 17, 2008, I hit my lowest weight. I had lost 73 1/2 pounds and was at my half way mark. I have struggled since then, gaining 20 pounds (10 over the Christmas holiday). But I'm determined to continue in my efforts and reach my goal. I know without Weight Watchers I would have gained far more than 20. My net lost is still over 50 pounds which is like carrying around two sacks of flour. That blows my mind. I can't imagine trying to walk around with a bag of flour under each arm.

Here are the major keys to my weight loss success:

1. David loves me the same no matter how much I weigh (LOVE HIM)
2. I have to eat vegetables every day (not a big fan, but it does make a difference)
3. Drink lots of water (fortunately I love water)

It's kind of ironic that I step on the scale hoping to find a lower number while David gets ecstatic every time his number goes up. At least I weigh less than 100 pounds more than him now!

Baby #2

No, I am not making an announcement. I'm just thinking out loud. For the past few weeks, I've really felt like we need to adopt another baby this year. I'm not getting any younger, so we don't want to wait too long. On the other hand, we're living on school loans and can't really afford to adopt again. But I just keep thinking that there is a baby out there and that a way is going to be provided for that baby to join our family.

I'm hoping for a boy, and I would prefer another black baby so that Baylie has a sibling that looks more like her. However, I'm not forgetting the counsel of my good friend Toni who said that if God sends me a child, I better be ready to receive whatever He sends.

So with all the above playing circles in my head, here are some of the things I've been thinking about.

• How can I ever love another baby as much as I love Baylie?
• Will I gain another 10 pounds with the next adoption?
• How much money will we get back in taxes?
• How can I capitalize on how cute Baylie is in order to pay for the next adoption?
• When I walk out the door struggling to hold Baylie wrapped in a blanket, diaper bag over my shoulder, juggling keys and whatever else I'm holding...where in the world am I going to put another baby and all its paraphenalia? (How do people have three, four, six children?)
• While Baylie is usually a great sleeper, three nights in a row with four hours or less of sleep wipes me out. How will I handle two babies if they don't sleep well?
• Is it okay to try and raise two kids while living on school loans and WIC?
• How can I quit my job and still have decent health insurance?
• Will two car seats fit in our little car?
• Why didn't I buy a double stroller?
• Will I be able to potty train Baylie before getting another baby (not likely)? Can we afford diapers for two kids?
• Is light green really an okay color for a little boy, or was I fooling myself in calling it 'neutral'?
• Could my sister hurry and have a little boy so I can get her hand-me-downs for this baby too? (Her having twins six months older than Baylie has been a great blessing in many ways...)
• Can we keep a baby in a basinette long enough for Baylie to outgrow her crib?
• Will I have to go back to sharing a closet with David?
• Who will I hand the baby to when I'm tired since David and I will both have to hold one now?
• How can I ever love another baby as much as I love Baylie?

Deep Thoughts and Observations

In case you didn't notice, I added a little space at the right for my deepest thoughts and profound observations. I'm going to start deleting them as I add new ones, so I thought I should mention they're there. I would hate for anyone to miss out on these valuable gems.

(Actually it's just a dumping ground for thoughts that I don't have anywhere else to unload.)

Gettin' Jiggy With It

Baylie dances to everything now. Even my cell phone!

I need my Baylie time

I have it so good. Kristin goes to work around 6:45 pm and Baylie and I get to hang out for about an hour. The best part is sitting on the couch with a worn out Baylie snuggled peacefully against my chest. I usually put something on the television and she stares at it, occasionally looking up at me, which melts my heart every time.

Sometimes I'll place my index finger in her palm to see if she'll latch on. Once in a while, not as often as when she was littler, she'll grab on and just hold on as if for security to know I am still with her.

After a while of this she'll start to fuss a little to let me know she is ready for her bottle. I'll sit her up against the couch and make her some formula. She watches me go into the kitchen, and I wonder if she knows exactly what I've gotten up for. When I come back I shake the bottle for her to see. Her eyes widen. Then I scoop her up and lay her sideways in my arms to feed her. She loves it. I love it.

I had always heard that there are things that only a parent can experience, but I never understood how wonderful these things are. It is miraculous and beautiful to watch your little daughter fall slowly asleep in your arms. It's an automatic prayer of gratitude.

When she is finally out for the count I lay her in the crib. She immediately rolls to her side with her legs and arms tucked in for warmth. I lay her super soft pink princess blanket over her gently--I remember loving this moment as a child--then I put the thicker homemade blanket on top and walk out, closing the door ever so quietly.

The past few nights I have experienced a beautiful moment. I come back into the living room where her toys are scattered all over. I was there only moments ago playing together with my daughter, I think to myself. Then I kneel and gather them up and put them away. It's that moment in my evening that strikes me hardest. I have the best kid ever.

A "Real" Mom

The knitted head scarf Baylie is wearing is another item that I wore as a girl. I love that we share these things.

A couple of days ago I was grocery shopping when a nice lady stopped me to ask if my daughter was adopted. I said yes and she mentioned that her daughter was also trying to adopt. Then she looked at Baylie, pointed at me and said “This is your real mom.” I don’t know why, but the statement turned me cold. I wanted to snap at her and say “I’m her only mom.” I didn’t say anything because she really was trying to be nice.

So what’s a “real” mom. Is that like Pinocchio trying to become a “real” boy? I’ve thought a lot about that lately to try and understand why I reacted that way. It’s not that I don’t think about Baylie’s birth mom. I think about her all the time. In fact, I doubt a day has gone by since I first learned about her existence that I haven’t thought about her.

I also think a lot about Baylie and me and our relationship. I often wonder what kinds of questions she’ll have as she gets older. I wonder if she’ll have a hard time because we don’t look alike. I wonder how much she’ll want to know about her birth mom and if she’ll want to meet her. I wonder how I'll help her be comfortable being herself and loving herself for who she is. I know there will be some questions I won't be able to answer. I pray about it all the time. I just want her to be happy and to know that David and I love her so very much.

I felt so protective of Baylie and of our relationship when someone felt the need to define it. No one ever told me that my mom was my “real” mom. She was just my mom. I am Baylie’s mom and she’s my daughter. Enough said.

Molly Mormon

A true Molly Mormon would never take a picture of her baby with a noodle on her nose. Of course, Molly would probably never let the noodle get there in the first place.

I'm sure you've all heard about June Cleaver vacuuming in her heels, hair perfectly coifed and not a wrinkle in her dress. Well, in Mormon folklore we have a similar 'ideal' commonly referred to as Molly Mormon. This mythical woman sews all her own clothes, grinds her own wheat to make homemade bread, has perfect children, always has her makeup fresh when her husband comes home from work, etc., etc.

For whatever reason, I always fought against this ideal. While my sister learned to sew and cook, I took woodshop instead of home economics (ironically, I can't make anything out of wood either). So, yesterday I found myself leafing through the awesome cookbook my sister-in-law put together and copying down meals to go in my meal plan chart. And suddenly it hit me - I'm becoming a Molly Mormon!

• I love to knit (almost an obsession really)
• I crochet edges on baby blankets (can't yet do a stand-alone project)
• I tat (can't read a pattern though)
• I like to plan meals and cook (still not as good as my sister)
• I keep a clean house (I rock at this one)

Funny thing is, I enjoy all these things and I like the person I'm becoming. I'll never be the perfect Molly because I won't wear makeup except on Sundays and I still wear my sweats/p.j. bottoms basically all day, but I've discovered there is nothing wrong with being a good homemaker. I'm far happier doing this than working in a corporate office. Of course, it doesn't pay as well and I actually ran out of pens the other day because I no longer get free ones from hotels or conferences, but my current job is far more rewarding.

Isn't it funny how we often become the people our parents wanted us to be, even though we fought them about it for most of our teenage years? I guess Mom was right after all. Too bad I didn't figure it out sooner, I could have saved myself a lot of grief.

Houston vs. Provo

(long, tall Texan sledding for the first time)

I loved living in Texas (and I love being married to a Texan). There is something special about a place where school children not only pledge allegiance to the nation's flag, but also to the state flag every morning. Texans truly believe that everything is bigger and better in their state (if you don't believe me, just watch a few commercials or read the billboards on the freeway). So, here are a few things that I do and don't miss about Texas - specifically Houston vs. Provo.

Things I Miss

• I never had to scrape my car windows in Houston
• Miller Outdoor Theater where free plays and other programs were offered all summer long
• A variety of excellent museums where one night a week was free
• Our house
• Our neighborhood (I loved that our street had trees that stretched over the road in the summer)
• Knowing that if I got a flat tire, someone would stop within five minutes to help change it
• Freeways (it was a lot faster and easier to get places)
• The Astros
• Southern hospitality
• People that teach their children to say "yes, ma'am" and "yes sir"
• Great restaurants (Utah has good restaurants too, but Houston is known for the variety and quality of their eating establishments - many are very affordable as well)
• Diversity of religion, race and culture
• Movie Tavern - dinner and a movie at the same time!

Things I Don't Miss

• Taking a mixing bowl out of the cupboard and having to check it for roach shells
• Copperhead snakes in the backyard
• High cost of utilities, especially in the summer (over $200 just for electricity for our little house)
• The Rockets
• Everything being flat (I love mountains)
• Nazi neighborhood associations
• Commuting 40 minutes each way to work (although I did like riding the bus - lots of reading time)
• Humidity that sucks the air from your lungs (but it is great for the skin)
• The high crime rate
• Street signs, lamp posts and brick walls toppled over by drunk drivers
• Boobs hanging out (meaning the body part, not whiney people)
• Cabarets
• Large groups of kids hanging out outside the theaters

Love in an Unexpected Place

This blog title is different from the one I originally planned. Originally I planned on calling it "Miscarriage of Injustice." Last night one of my cousins gave birth to a little girl, Tristin, who was only 22 weeks old. Tristin lived just a short hour and then returned to the place she had so recently left. When I first heard about this, I was upset and spent a lot of time reflecting on the injustices women have to suffer in this life: abuse, neglect, oppression, discrimination, miscarriages, infertility and the list goes on. But things have happened since then that have softened my point of view.

In our religion, we do not baptize babies. We believe they are innocent and saved through the atonement of Christ. We do, however, give them a name and a blessing in an official priesthood ordinance. So last night David and my brother Erik, who is named after my cousin's dad, went to the hospital to bless this little girl. (I couldn't go because Baylie was asleep.) My brother blessed Tristin that her short life would always serve as a reminder to her parents that they needed to live good lives so they could return to live with her again someday. David told me that he thinks little babies like this come to Earth just to get a body. They quickly return to God because they are special spirits and don't have anything else to prove in this life. I think both of those thoughts are beautiful and comforting. But the most beautiful part was performed by a complete stranger.

There is a woman at the hospital who takes care of these special spirits. She took little Tristin and lovingly washed her. Then she dressed her in a beautiful, embroidered dress that had been made by someone in the community. She took pictures of her, made little molds of her hands and feet, placed the items in a beautiful box together with a preemie diaper and other keepsakes. I wish I knew this woman. I wish I could throw my arms around her and thank her for the selfless love she showed at such a difficult time.

I went to visit my cousin today. I was shocked by her positive, calm attitude. She was handling everything so well. I'm sure she has moments of grief and I'm sure there are many moments ahead, but it was obvious that she was being blessed with calm and peacefulness.

I had to pick up a styrofoam cooler for her to pack with ice and take her little girl home in. I bought some cute little socks for Tristin. They'll be way too big for her, but they were the smallest I could find. I then found a blanket that my mother had made and crocheted around with pink thread. I was glad that even though Tristin would be placed in such a cold, impersonal container for her journey back to southern Utah, she would be wrapped in a beautiful dress and a hand-made blanket. That's when the title to my blog posting changed. I realized that my heart had been deeply touched by this little girl who only lived an hour. I was touched by the love that surrounded her and that was shown by people I don't even know.

As I post this, I look at a plant that sits on my desk. It was given to me by my coworkers when I had my miscarriage. This plant has been through a lot and sometimes I don't know how it survives, but I love it. It's a reminder of love shown to me at a very difficult time.

Our little baby was only eight weeks old when I lost it. We had heard the heart beat, and even though it was very small and we didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, it was very real to us. The night I miscarried was the hardest night of my life - physically and emotionally. David slept through it and he still feels guilty about this. I'll never forget how after it was over I slid into the tub and just soaked until the water turned cold. I still vividly remember placing the little cocoon-shaped object into a Wal Mart grocery bag to take it to the doctor - where I was surrounded by happy, pregnant women. I remember not wanting to be around people or out in public. Many people were just learning I was pregnant and would congratulate me only to have me tell them we had lost the baby, an uncomfortable experience for everyone. I remember going to see "Signs" and "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" at the end of that week. I remember sitting in the dark feeling sheltered because no one could see me in my grief, and I was grateful for two wonderful movies that let me forget for an hour or two that I hurt.

I'm still not sure why women have to suffer so much. But I am sure that it is the middle of our greatest suffering that we rise up to serve and love one another. No one knows the pain of a woman except another woman. Even a loving husband doesn't really understand what it's like to go through what we do. I love the great women in my life and I especially love the women who quietly serve others without any thought for recognition or acknowledgement. Today I'm resolving to be more like them.

So thanks, Tristin, for your sweet, short life and for the influence you've had on mine.

Emergency Preparedness

In our church, we are counseled to be prepared for emergencies. This includes having a two-year supply of food in storage as well as 72 hours worth of emergency supplies - called a 72-hour kit. David and I have tried hard to do this. Our two-year supply is more like an 8-12 month supply, especially since we've been living off it lately, but we have done better with the 72-hour kit.

When Hurricane Rita was headed for Houston, we didn't have to rush to the store only to find empty shelves and long lines. We had everything we needed. It was amazing what a sense of calm and security that gave us. When we decided to evacuate, we just had to load everything in the tunk and we were ready to go. To be honest, I never thought we'd actually use our kits and I was so glad we had decided to follow the counsel anyway.

We use our camping gear as part of this preparedness and then we also each have a backpack with extra clothes and supplies. The camping gear gets recycled every time we go camping (about once a year). Once a year we also go through the backpacks and recycle the food, medicine and anything else that needs to be swapped out. 

This year we needed to make Baylie her own kit. While I was putting it together, it hit me that I'm not going to be able to go through her bag just once a year. I'll need to go through it every 2-3 months because she grows so quickly. I was surprised at how much stuff needed to go in her bag and I'm so glad we decided to get hers ready, rather than waiting to do it at the last minute should there be an emergency.  

Now we just have to figure out how to carry three backpacks and a baby!

Looking Backwards and Forwards

I made us matching pajama bottoms for Christmas. They're a little wild! (For those of you who don't know me, my sewing anything is a big accomplishment.)

I've heard some people say that they are happy to see 2008 in the rear view mirror. For me, 2008 was a great year. Here is a brief recap.

January - We lease our home in Houston so we don't have to cover the mortgage. We start working with Heart & Soul Adoptions (first home study with Morgan).

February - We are matched with Baylie's birth mom. 

March - BAYLIE IS BORN ON THE 19TH. WE BRING HER HOME ON THE 21ST!

April - We find out that Baylie doesn't have sickle cell anemia, she is just a carrier.

May - FIRST MOTHER'S DAY!

June - Sixth wedding anniversary. Mamaw comes for a visit. FIRST FATHER'S DAY!

July - Bayles family camping trip at Soldier Summit.

August - Batchelor family reunion in Austin, Texas.

September - We move into our own apartment. David loses his job (blessing in disguise).

October - BAYLIE'S ADOPTION FINALIZED and SEALING IN THE MANTI, UTAH TEMPLE!

November - Ava June born. Thanksgiving with Granny in St. George, Utah.

December - Lots of fun in the snow and Baylie's first Christmas.

I'm still ironing out my goals for 2009, but here will be some of the biggies. I believe that goals should be measurable and within one's control, so I will develop these more specifically later.

* Reduce my addiction to television.

* Get back on track with Weight Watchers.

* Take Baylie on at least two international trips (get some stamps in that passport).

* Go camping.

* Have a better schedule (i.e. get more sleep).

* Improve scripture study.

* Prepare to adopt another baby (more on this later).

* Reduce spending.

Pink Eye

When I was still sleeping on the top bunk (i.e. about 30 years ago), I remember getting pink eye. I would wake up with my eye all crusty and stuck together, and it would be all swollen and red. Well, somehow I got it again. I have no idea how or from where, but here are some beautiful photos for you.