For months she wanted long hair so she could be like Elsa. Then, she changed her mind and decided she wanted this:
Her friend’s mom does hair, which is probably the only reason she went for it. It took a bit to enjoy it but she was definitely smiling in the end.
For reference, here is the before.
We had Jacob’s blessing on the first Sunday in May when he was two weeks and three days old. It was much earlier than we usually do it, but it’s just how it worked out to have family here.
Now that I try to remember, that day was much of a blur. I had been home less than two weeks and was still swollen from pregnancy bloating and operation awesomeness. I was very much still on heavy pain meds. It’s times like that when I realize that recording the blessing was an excellent move.
So here are a couple pics from the day. My parents, Devin’s mom and our good friends, Austin and Emily, were there to support and celebrate with us.
Later that day, i took some pictures of Jacob in his blessing outfit. My mom made a blue and green blanket that he was wrapped in for the blessing. She also made a beautiful quilt for him, just as she has done for all her grand kids.
Perhaps you have seen the recent “advertisements” telling about the open chat session with David Archuleta today (via mormon.org and Facebook). I did not participate. I don’t know what he said. Heck, I didn’t even make a mental note of where he served. Who cares?! Apparently a lot of people.
I’m conflicted on the matter. Yes, it’s great that he made the choice to put aside his “career” to serve a mission. It’s great he’s sharing his experiences with others. I guess he’s an inspiration to many [teenyboppers].
I guess I just wish the focus was a little less…superficial?
I don’t love the fact that he has been labeled this huge role model when all he was doing is what is expected, right and his responsibility. (As taught by the church, which I agree with). Had he not gone, what would people say? Who knows.
I suppose I should say it outright–I’m not a fan. Watching him on American Idol was always awkward and uncomfortable. That just translated to his music, of which I know one song. (And by know I mean, I liked it and listened to it at one point but now I haven’t a clue how it goes or the name of it. Forgettable. )
I guess what it comes down to is where is the focus? On fame? Or on the spiritual matters that actually matter?
Give me someone who sacrificed a lot to do what he did and I’ll join the chat.
Happy Fathers’ Day to my dad.
To the best dad, Gramps, and cactus grower.
To the one throwing the chicken nuggets during the high school band trip.
To the one that says, “so what?”
And to the one who tells me, “it’s going to get ‘lot worse.”
Irregardless, you’re the best and I love you.
Love,
Brittany
Happy Fathers’ Day to the best dad a kid could ask for.
Here’s to a dad full of adventure.
Full of love.
Full of goofiness.
He never misses a beat.
He takes the time to teach.
He’s one who doesn’t take life too seriously…
…except when it comes to pizza.
He’s done a great job of raising not just one…
…but two little Daddy’s girls.
Since all three are too small to really grasp how wonderful he is…
Here’s to a dad that is the best.
…the best catcher a kid could ask for.
Love,
Katelyn, Abby and Jacob
(And Brittany)
With each child, my recoveries have been different. With Katelyn, I had pelvic pain and a keloid scar form at the incision. I didn’t know what either one was or what to do about it, so I did nothing…for months.
Abby’s was probably the best recovery to date. My doctor did steroid injections during surgery to reduce the severity or occurrence of another keloid. Pelvic pain was minor, if at all, so I didn’t feel the need to hunt down a good chiropractor to fix it.
J’s is another story. Keloid has been avoided (so far) with steroid injects during surgery and pelvic pain is non-exsistant thanks to an awesome chiropractor I saw throughout my pregnancy. The major hiccup was a torn internal stitch.
I’m not sure how I did it, or even when, but at some point the right end of my incision started hurting. A burning, pinching, pulling type of pain. I thought it was the staples but when I told my doc, he examined me only to discover some swelling above the corner of my incision–an indication of tearing of the internal incision.
“Take it easy,” he says. Boy, if I had a dollar for every time he told me that…
At my two week check, I complain again about the pain. He advises me to wear a support band to put pressure on it and, you guessed it, take it easy.
The support band sucks. The only time it helps is when I was standing/walking, which I tried to do little of. Otherwise, it bunches up, making things even more uncomfortable. So that didn’t last long.
Instead, I walked around with my hand pressed to my lower stomach and walked with my right foot raised on my tippy toes to reduce stretching in that area. It was fun. For nearly five weeks.
Then it suddenly stopped hurting and swelling disappeared. But that was just to make way for sudden redness and swelling of the surrounding area of the incision. (Different than the torn stitch swelling).
Another unplanned trip to see the doc. “Oh my,” was his reaction to seeing the new mess I was in. It looked like an infection…but didn’t. It looked bruised…but didn’t. So, another round of antibiotics for this mama, just to make sure.
Two days later, the swelling reduced as did the redness.
By six weeks post-partum, I was relatively pain and swelling free. Therefore, I could sleep and move better AND I didn’t have any more pills to swallow.
Bonus.
Jacob baffles me. He’s a great eater and at the same time, he’s a horrible nurser. (Yes, it’s possible). He sleeps well at night, waking 2-3 times to eat and then goes right back to sleep.
An increase in fussiness convinced me to commit to a dairy-free diet, just to see if it helped. 24 hours into it, he seemed to become even fussier, sleeping less and less during the day. In addition, being overtired threw off his feeding groove and we were answering to hunger cries every one to two hours.
And by we, I mean me.
After ten days of that nonsense, I jumped off the wagon by eating an ice cream sandwich this morning. (Oh so good). As luck would have it, he napped quite well today. (Though I was a bit more determined in my efforts to make him sleep).
It’s days like this that I get a second wind (or 87th) and actually feel competent and even productive.
Tender mercies, I tell you.
I once had an “experienced” mom ask me, “can you imagine your life without katelyn?” This was but a few weeks after she was born. My response? “Yes!”
She was stunned and I was baffled by her bafflement. Clearly, we weren’t on the same page with this brief Q&A session.
Being a mom is hard. Being a full-time, stay-at-home mom is hard. There is a huge learning curve. So of course I could imagine what life was like before our first bundle arrived. Anyone who “doesn’t remember” all the adventures, socializing, shopping, hobby-ing, and the likes they did before their baby(ies) came is full of it.
This doesn’t mean that I’d trade in all three of my offspring for my carefree days. But really, who doesn’t entertain those thoughts of walking aimlessly through the Target aisles without tagalongs? Or, the obligation to relieve your other half from them (ie “I’ll be quick”).
The other day I had the chance to go grocery shopping with only a sleeping Jacob in tow. I had the pleasure of leisurely reading food labels. It was both stimulating and relaxing at the same time. On the flip side, who doesn’t love watching little girls cruz the aisles with mini shopping carts?
I once heard a friend describe an article she read where the author offered validation to all moms. Moms of one and moms of one dozen–the job is hard. It’s a game of guessing. A game of trial and error. A game of applied science. A game of proving and debunking. Thing is, every stage of it is hard for one reason or another. Having one child is hard just as having ten is hard. You struggle and learn at every stage.
The great thing is, if you can’t quite figure it out, kiddos are pretty forgiving.
This girl is one in a million. She keeps me on my toes. There is never a dull moment with her. She’s dramatic and carefree, most the time. When she cares, she cares a lot.
She’s the ultimate drama queen. The other day, Devin told her no for something and she slapped on a pouty face, hung her head, then dropped to the floor as if pretending to faint. We couldn’t help but laugh.
In a past life, she must have been a fish. She asks to take a bath everyday. When she’s not in the tub, she’s playing with dishes, toys in the bathroom, or having a “pool party” on the kitchen floor with cups, buckets or the baby bath.
Her newest thing is asking or telling me if a food is healthy. She swaps the words “are” and “do” 99% of the time. “Are you need some help?”
Abby is full of loves. She’s a spontaneous hugger and kisser and I love it! For a while she would give kitty kisses (licking). I’m sure glad that phase has passed. (Mostly).
When we announced we were pregnant with Jacob, we gave Abbers a shirt that says, “Awesome big Sister.” She loves that shirt. If anyone says anything to her about being a sister, she’ll tell you she’s an awesome big sister.
Off and on Abby has been into playing with her baby doll. Since Jacob showed up, she’s been feeding her doll. Occasionally, she will drop/throw it to the floor, make a crying sound and then say, “oh! Baby is crying!” Then, she rushes to pick it up and shushes it. (Should I be worried?)
This tiny girl is self-motivated. And by that I mean, if she doesn’t want to do it, ain’t nobody gonna make her. This is apparent in her potty training. We’ve bribed her with a new bed, car seat, every treat under the sun, and then some. And yet, Abigail don’t care. Fortunately, she’s a sweet, polite, outgoing and obedient girl in most other areas.
She’s our ultimate goofball and we love her.
