Pooped

No, despite what the title might lead you to believe, this isn't a follow up post to Addie's potty training progress. Don't I wish.

Instead, this post will chronicle the one thing my kids have never done.

I've heard that other kids do it, but have never seen it with my own eyes.

I've been waiting for this day.

I'm writing it down in the baby book. (Which doesn't exist, but this is monumental enough to start one. Today. Right NOW.)

I even took a picture to record the event, because those who know my girls would never believe it otherwise.



Addie fell asleep playing. (Do you hear angels singing the Hallelujah chorus? I did when I saw her!)




Here's what happened: I was working in the kitchen while Emma and Addie were playing "Kitty-Cat." Addie put her kitty, Emma, down for a nap in the corner of the dining room while she went into the other room to make lunch for the kitty. Well, after about 10 minutes of quiet, I peeked in to see Emma still taking her pretend nap in the corner. (I was first amazed that she could be still - and quiet- for that long.) About then, she started calling Addie's name. We all get a little nervous when it's quiet and we don't know where Addie is (it usually means something is being destroyed), but for some reason, I thought I'd see how it played out instead of frantically searching for her. A few minutes later, Emma came to me and said, "Mommy, Addie's not moving."

PANIC. Those are not words you want to hear.

Since you've seen the picture, you know there was no need to worry. Emma ran to the other room to show me where Addie was, and by the time I got there, she was lifting Addie's limp arm up and letting it drop to show me how asleep she was. I laughed so hard! Emma said, "I even used her hand and made her hit herself, but she won't wake up!" (How tender.)

Well, Addie is an expert at faking sleep, so I gave her the true test. "Hey Emma," I said. "Let's go eat a bunch of Oreos!" Addie didn't flinch, so I knew she really was slumbering away.

I think Emma made it to the kitchen to scarf down Oreos in 2.1 seconds.



By the way...

I don't think I ever fell asleep playing when I was little. My sister did once, while we were playing Monopoly. I continued to play the game anyway, and took her turns for her. Can you believe she fell asleep and still beat me? I don't know if that makes me really honest or really dumb.

I'm going with honest. Honest and kind. And loving. Because after she won, I quietly put the game away and then gently and lovingly moved her to her bed where I kissed her sweetly on the cheek and wished her the happiest of dreams, as any caring big sister would. I tucked her in carefully, making sure that she was warm and cozy so that she'd get the proper sleep she needed. Then I tiptoed silently out of the room, taking care to shut her door with the softest of touches, so as not to disturb her as she dreamed away. I went to my own room, tired, but feeling fulfilled in my role as big sister.

I bet she never knew that part of the story. Wow, I can't believe I've held that in for so long.

The preschool buzz

Important stuff is happening in life and time just doesn't stop so I can blog it all. Ever since I re-prioritized and started feeding my kids and stuff, my blogging has taken a back burner. And if you follow my sweet cooking skillz, you know that it's a very dusty back burner, and there's nothing worse than a blog that collects dust. So here's my attempt at rescuing it from the dust bunnies and starting with a quick little story.

Disclaimer: There aren't actually dust bunnies on my back burners. Okay? That would be gross. And probably a fire hazard.

Emma started school last Friday. How cute is she with her ginormous backpack and missing tooth?



She is loving it. So far she's made two good friends, Sophie and Emma F. (she's Emma O... we knew we'd be throwing her into a world of Emmas when we named her), thinks it's really special that she has her own hook to hang her backpack and jacket on, barely says goodbye to us before running into her class, was excited to get "the kind of yogurt you squeeze" as a snack, and blushed when she told us she rode bikes with boys on the playground.





When I picked her up from class today, I asked her what she learned. She told me that if you get stung by a bee, you should wash it out with soap and water and bacon.

Bacon?

What are they teaching kids these days?

I think she meant baking soda. Or, make that, bakin' soda. Imagine substituting bacon for baking soda in your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. Eww.

From the sounds of it, Emma's destined to have the same culinary talents as her mama. I'm so proud.

Tinkle Trouble

I'm writing this post from the Land of Nod. Make that, the Land of Nodding Off. I'm so tired.

It seems that Brody isn't too fond of sleep. At least not during the wee hours of the morning. And actually, not a whole lot during the day either. In fact, at this very moment, the little man is crying his little heart out in his crib. So this might be a short post. (Was that a collective sigh of relief I just heard?)

I didn't come here to post about sleep, or the lack thereof, even if I am a little tired. Did I say that already?

No, I'm here to talk about potty training. Or the lack thereof.

I think I've asked Addie to use the potty about 328 times today.



I think Brody will be potty trained before Addie. There. It's in writing now, so I can gleefully say, "I told you so!" when Brody proudly moves on from his diapers before Addie. He's currently in size "N" for Newborn (not even in a size 1 yet), so don't hold your breath. It'll be a few years. Addie will be in kindergarten or 1st grade by then, and I'm not sure they make diapers that big. Or maybe it's size "D" for Depends.

Miss Addie has absolutely no desire to put diapers behind her and put her behind on the toilet.

I've bribed her. I've rewarded her. I've reasoned with her.

I've let her play all day in a soggy, smelly diaper to show her just how uncomfortable diapers are.

She doesn't care.

She's too busy to care. She has better things to do than take the time to go potty. (Okay, she comes by this naturally. That's a whole 'nother post.)



Potty training Emma was mostly a breeze. Sure, we had to explain that pull-ups are more special than diapers so she didn't go through them like crazy ("oh well, let's get another one!"), but once she put her Cinderella panties on, we were done. I think the icing on the cake was when she got to show Cinderella her Cinderella panties at Disneyland. That's when it was worth it to Emma.



And okay, we finally just perfected wiping, because Emma's logic was that "my panties wipe for me." (Was that a collective "EWWW!" I heard? I couldn't hear it clearly over my own "OH, GROSS!")

But Addie...

Today she was in tears because she has a horrid diaper rash. I tried explaining that it's because she doesn't want to use the big girl potty and won't tell me if she's wet. So, around noon today I took off her diaper once and for all and decided that cleaning up an accident here and there is better than paying for another box of diapers and sending her to her senior prom in Pampers.

So I've had a nudie cutie running around half the day.

(There was a photo here, but I took it down... I got paranoid!)

(A nudie cutie who thought it would be fun to pretend her markers were lipstick.)

I've only had to clean up one tiny accident so far. Maybe we should've given up diapers cold turkey months ago!

Like maybe when she started changing her own diapers.

I guess I don't pick up on cues too quickly.

Did I mention I'm sleep deprived?

How to Make Your Mama Cry

When Brody was born, it seemed like my girls grew up instantly. Addie, who was my baby, suddenly got bigger. MUCH bigger. In comparison to tiny Brody, she is now a giant. Emma just seemed to have matured and really gotten sweet over night.

And then a week and a half ago, Emma showed me that she had a loose tooth.

Make that TWO loose teeth.

I couldn't believe it! She's not even five yet. I called the dentist to make sure it's okay to be losing teeth this early, and thankfully he said yes. But no, it's NOT okay. It means she's growing up and I can't do a thing to stop it!



So I took these pictures of Emma the other day, even though I was sure we'd have a few more weeks or months left with her baby teeth.



But we were wrong!



Yesterday after Bible Study, Emma leaned over to pick up a balloon and exclaimed, "My tooth!" I said, "What do you mean 'your tooth?'" She said, "It's on the floor!" She picked it up and looked at me, and sure enough, there was a new little gap in her mouth and a tooth in her hand. I don't know how, but she said it just fell out. It seems like it must have just literally, fallen out. It was there one second, and gone the next.



She was a little freaked out by the small amount of blood pooling in her new hole, and got a little teary. Addie said she was afraid too and kept saying, "Poor Emma!" But even though I was slightly devastated myself, I showed my excitement and reassured Emma that it's a great thing!



Since we hadn't left the church yet, I had Gary meet us at the door on our way out and when he saw our "surprise", I swear he turned ashen and held back tears.

So last night, we made a special envelope to keep the tooth in (I had wanted to make a cute little toothfairy pouch with Emma... someday... you know, when she was old enough to lose a tooth! But the envelope worked for now), and Emma willingly went to sleep so the toothfairy could come. She was VERY excited as she told me that the toothfairy would leave her a PENNY! Woo-hoo!







When I was little, I got a shiny fifty-cent piece for each tooth. They were VERY special. I'm wishing I'd saved them all to give to my own kids, but what kid thinks ahead like that? I meant to go the bank and forgot. So lucky little Emma got a sparkly Sacagawea dollar instead. Considering she was excited about a penny, I think maybe the toothfairy is going to cut back to a quarter for all teeth after the first one!




Once in awhile while Brody's sleeping, he'll smile a half-smile that just melts my heart and it makes me think back to the girls' toothless grins that I loved so much when they were babies. I didn't realize I'd be getting a glimpse of Emma's again so soon. *sigh*

One last thing... last night when we were eating dinner, we were talking about how sometimes people cry when they're happy (I cried when Brody was born, so now they bring it up occasionally). Emma said, "Yeah, that's why I was crying this morning when I lost my tooth. I was just so happy!" Mmmm-hmmm... sure!

Brody's Birth Day

Two weeks? Has it really been two weeks since I last posted? Seriously, where does the time go? Where did summer go? It was too short! Can I get an amen? And does that mean Brody is over two weeks old? It doesn't seem possible.

But yes, it has been two weeks since I posted. I've been a little busy.

With little this...

And little that...

And oh yeah, all these littles...

(Yes, he is screaming his head off. No, he didn't like snuggling between his two sisters.)

I thought I should back track and talk about Brody's Birth Day a little bit, more for my own sake than any of my readers, because it's amazing how quickly those moments you "swear you'll never forget" fade away. And it's probably a good thing, or the pain might just keep us from having more of these precious little things!

So here we go. And if there are any male readers out there, I'm talkin' about a real, live birthin' here, so read at your own risk.

On the morning of my due date, 8-8-08, I woke up at 5:50 in the morning to a quiet little "POP!" It startled me, and yet I knew instantly that it was probably my water breaking! I went back to the dusty corners of my mind from that childbirth class five (FIVE?!) years ago and remembered that your bag of waters can have a slow leak, be broken by the doctor, or literally POP like mine did. I got up expecting a gush, but when there wasn't one, I second guessed myself. But when I got in the shower a few minutes later, there was absolutely NO DOUBT that indeed my water had broken. It gushed! Gary called the hospital, and the doctor said to get there quickly since I was already 4cm. dilated the week before.

I got ready in record time - yes, hair and makeup - and finished packing my bag. I really didn't know what to do with the water which continued to gush, so I asked Gary to get me one of Addie's diapers. Oh yes, you read that right... I wore one of Addie's diapers. It's pretty much the only reason I'm glad she's not potty trained yet. It did the trick for the 15-minute drive to the hospital!

When Gary went into the girls' room to get the diaper, they woke up and he told them that we were headed to the hospital. They were ecstatic! They raced around the house singing, "The baby's coming! The baby's coming!" It was the cutest thing in the world. We kissed them goodbye and off we went!

I'm not going to go through every little detail here, so this part will be an abbreviated version of what happened over the next 10 hours. Because, really, who wants to hear what we did for 10 hours of non-labor? It's not like Gary hijacked my Facebook account or anything like that.

My plan was to have as much of a natural labor as possible, unless I just couldn't take it or the baby was in danger. I've done it both with an epidural and meds and without in the past, and couldn't honestly say that I preferred one way over the other. So this time, I was just going to go with the flow and decide as we went.

The problem was that even though the doctor urged us to get there quickly, I wasn't having regular contractions when my water broke. It's ironic, because for a month before that, I was having regular contractions several hours a day. After we got to the hospital, it seemed like every time my contractions would pick up, they'd stall out and we'd just sit and wait and nothing would happen. The catch is that after each contraction I did have, the baby's heart rate dropped dramatically. It's a scary thing to watch the monitor and see that little line plummet and hear those "beeps" get slower and slower. After losing our baby last August, I can assure you that we were a little on edge.

The doctor and nurses explained that the baby may have been sitting on or pinching his cord in some way, which could explain the drops in his heart rate. That one word - CORD - was all they had to say to get MY heart racing.

The concern over the baby's well being really tensed me up, and I couldn't concentrate enough to breathe through contractions which although weren't consistent, were getting more intense. I opted to get the epidural, which brought much relief and I have no regrets. The baby's heart rate actually got better at this point, probably because I was more relaxed. They gave me an oxygen mask to wear for the baby's sake, not mine, and the extra dose of oxygen also helped the baby.The doctor recommended a small dose of Pitocin, which I was very hesitant about, but she hoped it might get the contractions going in order to get the baby out of there - they were all concerned about his well being as his heart rate began to drop again, despite the oxygen and changing positions multiple times to get the baby in a more comfortable place. I've not heard good things about Pitocin (bad experiences with friends, mostly), but I completely trust my doctor, and because I was very worried about my baby, I gave it a shot. It turned out that it didn't help, so after just a few minutes, they took me off of the Pitocin.

Because so much time had gone by after my water breaking and because I had lost so much water as the day wore on, they actually put some water BACK IN, in hopes they could float the baby more so that he wouldn't be pinching his cord. Who knew they could do that?! Thankfully, it worked a little bit, but there was still concern.

I'm telling you... I felt like a marionette with all of the cords and catheters coming out of me! (And for what it's worth, I learned that a catheter is any tube coming from your body - not just for pee. Sorry... just had to put that out there.) It wasn't exactly how I'd pictured it, but I was thankful to be taken care of by such a competent staff at the hospital.

Finally, the doctor and nurses were out of options and approached me about the possibility of having to do a C-section. I had been adamant all along that it would absolutely be a last resort. They explained that the baby's heart rate just wasn't where they wanted it to be and the contractions weren't indicating that we were very close yet. My heart was pounding and I sent up a short, desperate prayer to God that my baby would be okay and that we could make it through this. I felt tears sting my eyes and I remember silently pleading with Him that I wouldn't need a C-Section. And I was terrified that I might lose another baby.

But out of the blue, the doctor decided to check me one more time. She said, "Oh! You're at 10 centimeters. It's time to push!" In the next eight minutes, I pushed through two contractions, insisted on pushing one last time (despite them telling me to stop), and Brody Ryan was born. Gary helped pull him out and put him on my chest, as I sobbed and cried and thanked the Lord over and over again.

My hospital has a new rule where the mother holds the baby skin-to-skin for the first hour, even before the baby is weighed or anything. It was bliss. I cherished every second of that hour, experiencing nearly every emotion imaginable. I nursed him for the first time, which he took to easily, and I just thanked the Lord for such a gift in this sweet boy.



I was so eager to pass him to his Daddy after the hour was up, and it was a sweet moment to watch Gary holding his son. He's not proud or anything...


We wanted our girls to be the first people besides ourselves to hold baby Brody, so they came in and we shared some sweet moments alone with them. You've never seen two prouder big sisters. They were so tender and quiet with him, and really continue to be two weeks later.







There's so much more to share... the dynamics of having three, details about how the girls love on Brody, the rollercoaster of emotion I've been on in the last few weeks, how we chose his name and just little things that make Brody who he is. But I'll have to come back to those, or this post will be a kajillion times longer than it already is!

Dr. Jensen high-fiving the girls after Brody was born


It was difficult to go through the day without thinking of Joshua, Brody's older brother. I need to write more about it later, but I can say without hesitation that although Joshua cannot be replaced, Brody has filled the hole in our hearts that has been there for a year. The day Brody was born, there were so many comparisons and stark contrasts to the day Joshua was born, and it was impossible to ignore them. But God is so good and Brody is here to prove that. Much more on that later... there's still so much I'm processing.

The rest of this will be very picture heavy, as they really tell more about the day than I could. So I'll just end with pictures, pictures, and more pictures! Because you can't have enough pictures of a tiny, newborn little miracle. And he is.





My mom, me, and Brody... just a couple hours old


My sisters, Brody and me


Emma and Brody, 1 day old

Addie's an expert at holding babies





All the grandparents

He's here!

(Lest you think I'm STILL in labor!)

Brody Ryan Osborne arrived on his due date, August 8th, 2008 at 4:38 p.m. He weighed 6 lbs., 13 oz. and was 19" long. Hearing his tiny cry upon his entrance into this world was the sweetest thing I've ever heard. More details to come, but I didn't want to leave the last post hanging like that!

We're all doing fine. Baby Brody is healthy and sweet and sooo loved by his big sisters. I can't wait to write more about that!

Thanks for all the well wishes and prayers. It was fun to blog and keep up with Facebook the day he was born, but I'm telling you, he's totally trumped both since then. :)

I'll be back soon...

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

Psalm 139:13-16