Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Betsy and Her Siblings

 Betsy is happy when the kids come home from school to snuggle her. Logan walks in the door and says, "How's my girl?" Which is a sweet thing to hear from his mouth.
 (Last night Logan told me, "You're a hard-core mom," after watching me make dinner while nursing.)
 I agreed to take this picture of Roscoe doing a Mufasa-Simba, but then forbade him from ever doing it again.
 Do you see Betsy joining in this game of Monopoly?
 Now do you see her?

 Roscoe and Mark protect Betsy from a curious triceratops at the dinosaur museum.
Levi enjoying a slow start with Betsy on a spring break morning.
The tape indicates that Betsy needs a break.

But usually she's quite happy with her troupe of adoring fans.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Shuck it and smile

At church on Sunday, a (very) young woman came up to me to tell me the happy news that she is expecting. She asked me my advice on morning sickness.

"It's been really bad," she told me.

I'm never quite sure how to respond to situations like this. I do have opinions and experience to share, but I don't want to cross the line from helpful to bossy. Plus, who wants to be the snarky, know-it-all old bag?

I mentioned sipping Diet Coke, taking half a Unisom before bed, and eating things like rice. But I couldn't find a gracious way to give my real advice about managing morning sickness, which would be something like: Just shuck it. Suffer through. And be happy about it.

In fact, that's really my advice about motherhood in general. And perhaps life in general. Some parts stink. They just do. Not too much you can do about it. But, you know, that's life. Just keep on moving. It's fine. A bit of pain/discomfort/exhaustion/frustration won't kill you. In fact, it's good for you. In this life, love, sacrifice, pain, and growth are all mixed up together.

"Eating toast has been working for me," the young woman told me. She concluded, "The morning sickness started yesterday."


"Oh honey, things are gonna get a lot worse," thought the snarky old bag.

Monday, April 18, 2011

The Dentist Saga

Dentist 1
Somewhere circa 1995, Mark and I go to a dentist who tells us that we each have something like a dozen cavities. He recommends a daily fluoride regimen. Because we are starving students he offers to put us on a generous payment plan. We are horrified, but since neither of us has been to a dentist for a few years, we believe it all.

Dentist 2
Fortunately, we move to a new city before acting on Dentist 1's plan. With fear and trembling we go to Dentist 2, who says that neither of us had any cavities at all.

And we never have since.

Dentist 3
Until last year, when my long-time dentist tells me I had a cavity. In my front tooth--an unlikely location for my first cavity in twenty-odd years. Remembering Dentist 1, I decide to get a second opinion.

Dentist 4
Six months later, I go to a new dentist. Who tells me I had no cavities. But I hate everything about that office, so I decide to try another office for my next six-month check.

Dentist 5
Today I went to a new dentist. I liked the front-office staff, the hygienist, and the dentist. But he told me I have two cavities--neither one of them in the place identified by Dentist 3.

In short: There is no consensus. No two dentists have seen the same cavities.

So should I let Dentist 5 fill those "cavities"? Is the entire dental professional a sham?

Friday, April 15, 2011

Where's Betsy?

Well, she's been in temporary retirement from publicity due to a case of baby acne.

Also she's had her pretty little nose buried in her mother's...bosom. (Just call us Bitsy and Busty.) Seriously, I've been feeding her probably nine or ten times a day (several of those clustered in the evening). If it takes about a half-hour a pop, that's five solid hours a day of nursing. Lovely for Betsy; becoming tiresome for me.

Last night, however, Betsy woke only once. It's a sunny day. I got some sleep. I'm wearing a pair of pre-pregnancy jeans. It's Friday with a chance of chocolate.

Some moments from our week:
"Snack time cancelled today due to ongoing slovenliness. Try again tomorrow. :( "

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Homework Time

Logan: I have to read this poem, and then write it in prose. [pause] Do you know what that is?

Roscoe [discussing paperwork he filled out today to take an AP test]: Is our zip code 84088? Good, because that's what I wrote. Why do they think I would know something like that?

Jesse: May I please have milk with my sandwich?
Me: Are you saying you'd like a sandwich?
Jesse: Yes, and I'm saying it in English. Because that's the only language I speak.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Spring ???

Today we snacked on chocolate Easter eggs while watching General Conference...
 ...then drank hot cocoa after building snowmen.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Jaunty, Messy, Rose


Last night my two big boys were playing wii when I noticed it was past bedtime. (Actually, it's more go to your room so I can pretend I'm alone time.)

"It's past nine o'clock," I called over my shoulder.

Now for one of my boys, such a comment would generally elicit any number of responses--as long as it was argumentative, contrary, combative, resistant in some manner. Seriously, he can whip up contention in response to a compliment. ("Why do you sound so surprised?" or "Are you saying I've never done it before?") This boy is just emerging from several months of acute adolescent angst that has made him (and us!) pretty unhappy and unpleasant.

But this time I heard him say, "I was just explaining to my colleague here that we should go to bed."

A comment so clever, so pleasant, so cooperative it epitomizes all the ways he is different from the person he's been in the recent past. Oh thank the stars above for growing up. It does wonders.


I was busy feeding Betsy, so industrious Jesse made himself lunch.

Complete with a play-dough rest for his knife.

Rose by Any Other Name

Apparently the first endearment out of my mouth when a baby is born is the one that sticks. For some reason when Levi was born I said, "Hey, sweet potato." And Sweet Potato he remained. Betsy has been Honey Buns since her first minutes. Mark thinks Mustard Buns would be more appropriate given the usual state of her diaper.
The hospital picture, taken just hours after she was born. Hospital pictures have come a long way, no?

Also, she is Itsy Bitsy Betsy. Or sometimes just Bitsy.