3rd Annual Gibbs/Miller Pumpkin Patch Excursion

Between our two families, we have some very good looking children. And it occurred to me recently that every year we add another kid to the mix. Year one it was just Ben and Adalee.

Year two we added Sammy.

Year three we added Emma.

And in year four the Gibbses will add Sophia!

We had a lot of fun at the pumpkin patch, as always. Every year it gets better (and let’s be honest—every year we’re better looking). Of course, any trip to the hay is followed up with wailing and itching in the car and an Aveeno oatmeal bath. But I think it’s worth it.

1/4 of a Year

This week Emma turned 3 months. 3 months!!! Where has the time gone? Where has sleep gone? Seriously—I need some.

At 11 lbs 15 oz and 24 inches, our little bug is doing great. She’s a feisty little firecracker (she did, after all, try to be born five weeks early on 4th of July weekend). If she is upset, she will let you know. She’s very specific in her wants and needs, and she will protest loudly if you do not comply. For example, she has finally started to take a bottle. But she will only drink from the most expensive one. Obviously. Nothing less than the best for my princess. Speaking of princess, this girl refuses to be or do anything she is told. One last feeding before mom and dad go to bed so she’ll sleep longer? No deal. If you try it, I will wake up every hour all night long. Predictable napping and feeding routine? Try again. Sleeping in the crib? No thank you. Sleeping unswaddled? No dice. Doing anything any book or doctor suggests to make life easier for my parents? I’ve got my own way, thank you very much.

Emma is unbelievably strong. She can stand, sit quite well with minimal assistance, and do crunches. She can do pushups, but not as well as other things since she hates being on her tummy. If you lay her on her back she can scoot 360 degrees in a matter of minutes with the power of her abs and legs. She’s pretty serious, but when she smiles, look out. It will melt your heart. She loves her brother and follows him around the house with her beautiful blue eyes. And she allows him to hold her, roll her over, and generally handle her like a three-year-old. She’s a super trooper.

As for the unpleasantries, they are slowly abating. Her Hour of Power is all but gone, she only cries her way through car rides 20% of the time (instead of the previous 100%), and last night she only woke up once to nurse. *Cue Hallelujah chorus* Her poor little tummy can’t handle dairy, and the reflux still causes problems occasionally. But health-wise she’s improving overall.

We are crazy nuts in love with our sweet little girl.

Dear Teenage Ben;

I just want you to know that tonight when I was tucking you in to bed, you said you loved me so much, and that I'm the best. I just wanted to put this in writing, so that when you're thirteen and too cool for me, you should know that when you were 3 1/3, I was your favorite person in the world. And that you will always always always be one of mine.

Sweater Weather

I picked up knitting several years ago because I was dirt poor and wanted to give people Christmas presents. I was wandering the craft store, looking for something I could make, despite the fact that being crafty is not really my deal. A kindly older women (if you have ever been to a craft store, you know the type) came to my rescue. She directed me to a cheap little book with instructions and a couple patterns, giant knitting needles, and bulky yarn. I knit the ugliest scarf that has ever been knit, and I gave it to my mom, because that’s what you do with your fugly crafts. Moms love first pancakes. They take that trapezoidal scarf and treasure it like it’s the Dead Sea Scrolls.

I had no intention of becoming a knitter. I wanted a cheap handmade gift that I could quickly make while watching TV (read: garter stitch scarf). I only learned one stitch, and I only made scarves. After a year or so (totally not kidding), I picked up that cheap little book and taught myself to purl. Now I could do stockinette and ribbed scarves. This was way more than I ever wanted to do. Seriously. The fact I even knew these words bothered me a little. Then I got pregnant with Ben. I decided to knit him a blanket, thinking it would help me to want a baby. Disaster. I was a novice knitter with authority issues, so I took one of the four stitch patterns I knew and just started knitting—who needs a pattern? I figured a baby blanket was probably just a big, wide scarf. But I didn’t know about circular needles, so I tried knitting it in pieces…even trying to describe my process is making me laugh and feel queasy. Needless to say I abandoned the blanket and went back to scarves.

Then last year I had a whole slew of friends having babies at the same time. I decided I would make them hats. Now I was really striding FAR past where I was planning to go as a knitter. Hats are not rectangles. My first hat was laughable. My mom did not get that first pancake—I kept it to remind myself about why I don’t craft. But I kept at it because my friends’ babies needed hats, and my friend with breast cancer lost her hair and I wanted to make her a hat. My subsequent pancakes were good. So I figured I’d reached the pinnacle of my knitting career. After all, I just wanted something to keep my hands busy while I watched TV. I did not want something complicated that I would have to pay attention to. I did not want to have to count. I did not want to have to size things correctly. I eventually made Ben a couple of blankets. The first was, in the grand Me tradition, a trapezoid. But the second turned out pretty darn nice. Flush with my awesomeness, I made blankets for a few friends’ babies, and of course for Miss Emma.

So why did I get it into my ridiculous head to attempt a sweater last week? Only God knows. But I got the hankering, and I tried it. And I have to say, this first pancake didn’t go off too badly. Now I’m all kinds of inspired. I have a half dozen sweaters I can’t wait to make for my poor, unwitting model. Which I think makes me an actual knitter at this point.

If only that lady at Michael’s could see me now. She’d be so proud. Seven years later, I’ve made my first sweater.

Healing

I feel good today. I feel peace. It's nice. I haven't felt good like this in quite a while. Post-partum depression is sneaky like that. You don't realize how big the cloud is until the sun starts to peak through.

God is good. He has provided in ways that are blowing my mind a little bit. He has been answering so many of my absurdly specific and unreasonable prayers lately that it's kind of silly. Some things remain the same. For example, he has not made money fall from the sky so I can be a stay-at-home mom. BUT he has provided for as long a time at home as I could hope for, and he is making going back to work as painless as could be reasonably expected. Every time I think about handing Emma over to someone for eight hours, a little piece of me dies. It's so bad that I simply refused to look for a situation for her. I couldn't bring myself to do it. But last week I buckled down and started looking, because I go back in two weeks and I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to bring Emma with me. It's kind of a long story, but the end result is that God led us to what appears to be the perfect situation (or at least second perfect--perfect being the whole money raining from the sky so I can stay at home thing). He orchestrated the whole thing in a way that gives me goosebumps. While my hearts still breaks at the thought of leaving her daily (and that will probably not change--it never did with Ben), I feel more at peace with it now. I feel good about her care, and I am grateful for all of the details that make it good.

Some prayers remain, and they will. That I will be a good teacher this year and enjoy my job and my students, and that I won't sob my head off every day and pine for a life that is not mine. That God would continue to provide financially so that we can meet our needs and our future goals. That my children will thrive in my absence, and that I will be okay with that. And that my house will not fall into complete ruin because seriously, I have a hard enough time keeping my head above water while I'm not working--just thinking about managing the upkeep of my home and family while adding my work into the mix makes my blood pressure take a leap.

But for the moment, I feel good. I feel good about my life and my self, and where I am headed. In two weeks that might change, but I feel like I can take it, that God will get me through it, and that I will come out the other side a stronger and more healed and whole person.

Cheers.

Baby Crunches

A certain little girl thinks she's ready to grow up. Lately she's been pulling herself up with her abs. She'll be sitting in her little bouncy seat or carseat or whatever and full-on sitting up. With just the strength of her stomach muscles. My word. She's taking her sweet time growing out of colic, but this she's in a hurry for. Ridiculous. She's also been taking short naps and waking up more frequently at night lately. Probably because she's anxious to get started on those college applications. Slow down, girl.

In this one you can see her suuuuper cool random patch of hair.

She's also getting better at her push-ups.

Vacation Blitzkrieg

Things got a little nutty over here for a week or two. First we had my mama’s birthday. She is awesome. I made her a cake, we added some ice cream, and we celebrated her existence. Emma celebrated by crying in her arms. Emma has a way of making people feel special. But I dressed her up all fancy, so she was very pretty as she cried (I did not take a picture, though, because I was too frazzled by the endless crying).

That afternoon, before our little mini party, Matthew’s parents flew down. We met up with them for breakfast Thursday morning and began a whirlwind weekend. This was the first time that anyone in Matt’s family has come down for the sole purpose of seeing us since our wedding. We get visitors from up north occasionally, but we’re usually the bonus on their business trip/vacation/visit with others. So it was really special for us to be able to spend some concentrated time with them. Ben got to have his Grammie and Grandpa Carl all to himself (well, he shared with Emma, but she doesn’t do much), and he was beside himself. On Day One we went to Disneyland. We have never taken Ben to Disneyland for more than a few hours—there has never been a need since we have annual passes. But this was a special treat, so we did the whole “all day at the park” thing. Matt’s parents were staying at a nearby hotel, so we went over there for Ben’s nap, which he did not take. When we eventually gave up and went back to the park Ben had a melt-down in line for Toy Story, which led to me carrying him, which led to him passing out in my arms. So I hauled 35 pounds of dead weight around for a good hour while we waited for the boys to get off the ride and went in search for dinner. Dinner…well, that was an elusive, frustrating quest. I will not get into the details because it would be hopelessly boring. But suffice it to say it was not our favorite part of the day. It ended, as most days do, with me trading one child for another, nursing Emma in a toilet stall, holding her while she cried, and not eating dinner. I really miss dinner. Anyway, other than the evening, which always sucks (some day we’ll get it back!), both kids actually did fantastic. Ben had a great time going on all the rides with Grammie, Emma was sweet and fun, and Matt (and Carl) finally got to go on the new Star Tours. We also finally got Ben one of those autograph books, and it was super cute every time he went up to a character and said, “can I have your autograph?” Except that we hardly saw any characters (I think Ben got two autographs), and Peter Pan was kind of a creeper. But Ben made us all sign it, and he signed it…so we’ll definitely remember that we were there.

On Friday Matt had to go back to work (booo!), so I took the kids and the grandparents to the pumpkin patch at Irvine Park. It took Ben a while to warm up to it because he saw some kids with snake swords and couldn’t get over it. But he eventually did and had a great time. He played tag with Grammie and Carl in the hay maze, jumped in the bounce house, and took seven hours to pick out pumpkins for himself and Emma. We also played a lot in the picture stands. The trip ended as most do with me changing Emma’s poopy diaper in the back of the car and Ben refusing to use the bathroom. By then it was lunchtime, so we went to the Subway inside the gas station (obviously) for a really classy lunch. Because that’s how we roll. We closed out the day with dinner and fun at a local eatery. Matt and I took turns eating and holding Emma, as usual, while Ben had a nice meal with his grandparents. End scene, day two.

At the pumpkin patch they have a ruler thing to mark how your kiddos grow each year, which I think is pretty cool.

B in October 2010……………………..B in October 2011……………………E in October 2011

Day three we went to the Long Beach Aquarium—one of Ben’s favorite destinations. It was a beautiful day, and we had a lovely time. Well, most of us. Ben spent most of the day ignoring the fish and begging for a stuffed shark. He occasionally showed interest in the exhibits, however, and especially liked petting the rays. Afterwards we had lunch then went home for naps while our visitors enjoyed the harbor area. For dinner we had Cheesecake Factory (yum!). Emma’s gift to us was actually sitting quietly in her carseat through the meal. Glory Hallelujah!!!! I got to eat a hot meal with other humans. She started crying when dessert came, but whatever, it was cheesecake. Yum.

I’m pretty proud of myself for plowing through. When it comes to doing things with Emma I tend to have a lot of

anxiety. She did pretty well. Of course she had lots of meltdowns, and I think I ate two meals the entire three days. But I took it in stride and enjoyed myself despite the challenge. Breakthrough!

We had a wonderful time with our family, and we look forward to their next visit in December. In the meantime, we need to rest up, because man was that weekend exhausting.