New Sheriff in town...

Evie was playing with the little neighbor boys the other day, and they emerged from the basement like this. I love dress-up.

everything is sacred

I was on facebook last night, 'cause you know, that's what I do and it's more fun than say, scrubbing the toilet. And I came across some friends' album from their recent trip to NYC. They are awesome people, and they were awesome photos. You know, swimming in fountains at Central Park and going out to comedy clubs till the wee smas. And as I looked through picture after picture, I felt something stirring in me. Jealousy? Regret? I'm not sure that I could pinpoint the exact emotion, but it wasn't pretty. In my typical "grass is always greener" fashion, I was comparing my life to theirs. I'm not really an adventure-taker, married very young to another non-adventure-taker. So it follows that my life is rather ho-hum at times. You know, wake up when the kids wake up, clean up various and sundry bodily fluids throughout the day (theirs, not mine), scrub marker off the wall, read board books, more bodily fluids, try to rest when the girls sleep (but they seem to have devised a twisted little version of Whack-a-Mole-- the one where as soon as Thing #1 goes down, Thing #2's sweet little head bobs up in awakeness and loud demands of milk. I mean, not that I would bash their heads in to make them go back to sleep or anything. But I have considered it. )

It's just, you know... monotonous. And it's just, you know... beautiful. I realized this the other day: I may have missed the boat (for now) on trips of international intrigue or all night pub sessions, but--Jesus, help me be grateful!--this is what I have always wanted. Since I was a little girl, I have wanted a little girl. In His kindness, God has given me two. I have wanted a home and a husband who loves me; I sometimes feel as if the ones I have are insufficient :) but God has given me this home, this husband, these children, in His infinite wisdom and in His unfathomable goodness. This is His plan for me, and it is for my good.


Help me to find joy in this, Jesus! In every giggle, every pout, every diaper change, and every late-night nursing, every opportunity for correction-- help me to serve these little ones, help me to serve my husband-- as service to YOU.

Everything is Sacred
Caedmon's Call

this house is a good mess
it’s the proof of life
no way would I trade jobs
but it don’t pay overtime

I’ll get to the laundry
I don’t know when
I’m saying a prayer tonight
cause tomorrow it starts again

could it be that everything is sacred?
and all this time
everything I’ve dreamed of
has been right before my eyes

the children are sleeping
but they’re running through my mind
the sun makes them happy
and the music makes them unwind

my cup runneth over
and I worry about the stain
teach me to run to You
like they run to me for every little thing

when I forget to drink from you
I can feel the banks harden
Lord, make me like a stream
to feed the garden

wake up, little sleeper
the Lord, God Almighty
made your Mama keeper
so rise and shine,rise and shine
rise and shine cause

everything is sacred
and all this time
everything I’ve dreamed of
has been right before my eyes

Giant boob baby

So this past week I loaded up my girls and headed down to NC. One night, my parents took us out to dinner at my favorite restaurant, Full Moon. Incidentally, my sister Gretchen works there. Evie sat in a high chair, in a black-bean-quesadilla-stupor while Cana snoozed in the wrap on my chest.

My sister calls me later, laughing so hard she can hardly talk. Apparently, in the restaurant where she works, there is a window that the employees can see out of, but pedestrians can not see into. The male cooks like to spend their non-busy hours checking out the scantily clad female tourists (they are called "ho-dogs" according to Evie. Oops.) One of the cooks runs into the other room, yelling, "Neil, you have to check this lady out!! She's got one giant boob right in the middle of her chest!!"

Yeah, it was me... with the baby on my chest (see the little tuft of Cana hair poking out in the pic on the left?)

And just for fun, here's my little babywearer. 'Cause, you know, she's crunchy like that.

Post-partum Ponderings and a Picture

Please pardon the poor photo-- our camera is broken. Or, not really broken; it just never really worked.

So I am happy to report that I am able to fit into most of my pre-prego jeans. But my pre-prego BELTS don't fit. Explain that twisted logic to me.

I really love co-sleeping with the Itty-Bitty. Mostly because I'm lazy and can just flop over and nurse her. What I don't really love is that I sometimes forget that, unlike my 2 year old, Cana needs to be burped after she nurses. What I really really don't love is waking up in a pool of non-burped baby vomit. On the sheets that I washed yesterday. Goodness knows when they're going to get washed again. Throw down a towel and forget about it-- that's this mama's solution.

With this baby, I've ventured out into the wrapping world-- not as in gift-wrapping, as in wrap-style baby carriers. I've gotten some positive comments when I step out in the Gypsy Mama (such as a little old lady at the playground yesterday that asked me how in the world I ever got brave enough to try that) but mostly just really curious (mean?) stares. Maybe it's because, hearing the raspy, gargly baby snoring emitting from said fabric, they think I am carrying around a guinea pig, not a baby. And that would be even weirder than wrapping a baby. Aside: is it bad that my primary motivation for babywearing is to hide my postpartum pooch? Oh, wait. There's nothing postpartum about it. It was always there.

Toddler poo on cloth diapers is EXPONENTIALLY grosser than newborn poo on cloth diapers (or any sort of diaper, I would imagine. But disposables don't need to be dunked, so that lessens the grossness factor in my mind). And changing a 2 year old's diaper-- although it never really bothered me before, has become slightly obscene. Perhaps akin to changing my mom's diaper or something. Not that my mom wears diapers. That I know of. It might be time to get more serious about potty-training. My daughter, not my mom. My mom is on her own for that one.

I'm contemplating going to the Outer Banks next week to be with my family while Chris is at Creation West. Am I asinine to even attempt an eight hour trip with both girls (by myself)? Or would it be more asinine to attempt 8 days at home with both girls (by myself)? Evie is definitely in favor of going, and as long as I pack enough orange Tic Tacs and Yummy Earth lollipops, her obedience can most likely be bought. Cana doesn't care for orange Tic Tacs, so we might be up a creek there... Anyone want to take an all-expenses-paid trip to the beautiful Outer Banks of North Carolina? Scenic lactation stops are scheduled every 2-3 hours. (Or as scenic as you want them to be; I'm not shy.)

Babies don't keep...

Song for a Fifth Child.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

Me and the Yellow-Belly Baby

Well, at least yellow-ish. I pretty much had to post this photo when I realized that my head scarf kinda matches my sling. And for one week postpartum, that, friends, is a magnificent, post-worthy thing.

A quick recap of the last week: labor sucks. Induced labor sucks even more. Induced labor while being on an all-liquid diet is a fate worse than death. (Not really, but you know what I mean.) Pushing a baby out in 10 minutes after being in labor for 28 hours=bliss. Sending your husband to Sheetz at 1 am to get you a Turkey Bacon Ranch Melt= double bliss. The milky smell of a breast-fed baby=almost as yummy smelling as aforementioned T.B.R.M. Searching for 1/2 hour to find a MIA bloody little umbilical cord stump, only to find it in your nursing bra= I have no words. Trying to position my two tandem nursers at the same time= hilarious. The laxative effect that breastmilk has on toddler poo=absolutely horrifying. The magnifying effect breastfeeding has on my *ahem* bosom=de-freaking-lightful.

Update on Baby

Here's an email that I sent out to our small group a little while ago. Please pray!




Here's the latest:

After my appointment this morning at Maternal Fetal Medicine, my
doctors decided that it would be safest for our baby to be born soon.
Soooo, I'm supposed to be at Women and Babies at 4 PM to start a
cocktail of drugs that will ready my body for labor (at my appointment
this morning, I was only about 1-2 cm. dilated and 50% effaced-- not
enough to go into labor naturally, obviously). While this certainly
wasn't the ideal "birth plan" that I had in my head, we've been
praying for wisdom for the doctors to advise the best course of action
for our baby. I am confident that God has heard our cries and so we
go ahead in faith that this is His best for us, too. He does all
things well.

A few things to be praying about, please:

-- no c-section. Because the baby already has considerable risk factors, the doctors have advised me that they will not tolerate any
sign of distress in the baby during labor. While a c-section is
definitely not the end of the world, I would much prefer not to have
one, for obvious reasons.
-- no NICU for Baby. In addition to the risk of anemia, being a few weeks early carries its own potential complications. Pray that baby
will be strong and healthy!
-- pray for a good beginning to breast-feeding, please. I know that maybe this seems like an odd request in light of everything else, but
it is very important to me. While I had no problems with Evie, I'm
feeling anxious that the interventions necessary in birth as well as
the potential necessity for the NICU could cause some speed-bumps.
Pray that I would be surrounded by a group of doctors and lactation
consultants that would be supportive of this desire, rather than
pushing supplementation
--pray for my sweet Evie. This morning after the appointment, I got
really weepy thinking of how she won't be the only baby anymore.
Please pray for the network of family and friends who will be caring
for her while I am in the hospital-- that she would be loved on
tremendously and wouldn't even miss me. Pray that she would love her
little sister and that Chris and I would have wisdom to know how to
love and care for each of our little ones in the best possible way.
--pray for my mom, who is traveling BACK to PA as I type this. Bless
her-- I can't put into words how much I appreciate her. And sometimes
you just want your mom. :)
--pray for Chris, who does indeed have the flu. He is feeling much
better now, although still not 100%. (The doctor said he's gonna have
to wear gloves and a mask to touch the new baby!) Pray specifically
for Evie and Baby, that they would be protected from this nasty virus.
-- I know this is long-winded, but one last thing: many of you know that my sister, Gwenn, along with her family, is a missionary in
Haiti. For the past 2+ weeks, she has been violently ill-- she's lost
25+ lbs. and is extremely weak and drained. She was originally
diagnosed with malaria, but now they are no longer sure. Gwenn is
currently en route back to the US to undergo testing at Duke. Please
pray that the doctors will be able to quickly diagnose and treat her.
Pray for her family as she is gone. I love her a ton and really wish
that I could be with her.

I thank my God every time I remember you. We will keep you updated.

His love never fails,
Melody (+Chris)