30 by Thirty - September 30

How many times can I use 'thirty' in the title of a post? Good grief!

I've gotta tell ya, that scale just will NOT budge one tiny little bit! It doesn't matter what time of day I weigh, if I've eaten recently or not, or whether I've drank a gallon of water or not, I weigh the exact same thing! Right down the the ounce! It's very frustrating! I know I'm not doing too great on eating, but I'm doing better than I was. And I know I'm not exercising much, but I chase around two toddlers all day while I'm nursing, and then we run all around the country in the evenings to various events. Couldn't that count for something?! Oh well....

On a positive note, I have lost some thickness. I measured everything a couple of weeks ago and then re-measured today and had lost half an inch around my waist and 1/4" on the hips. Those are the only places I measured today, but I was happy with that because it means I'm getting closer to getting out of my stretched out maternity clothes. I'm going to miss their comfort, but it will be nice to have more than two outfits again!

Until next time!

That time I thought my van broke down...

Tuesday afternoon Ethan had baseball practice. No big deal. We got there and he took off to the field with his coach and team mates. I sat in the van with sleeping Elijah, hungry Melia and impossible-to-contain in an open area Ezra. A friend from church came over to chat and we talked a bit while Ezra bounced all around the inside of the van.

At 6.30, I went to the field and got Ethan since we needed to leave to go to church. We all got back to the van to load up, and I went to crank the van. There was a problem. The van wouldn't crank. I tried again. And again. And again. No luck. But then I couldn't take the key out of the ignition. I had to idea how to fix the thing!

I looked around and found one of Ronnie's friends. I had him come over and see what he could do. He found that the battery posts were corroded so he tried cleaning them off and then hooked up jumper cables to jump the van off. No luck. He cleaned some more and we tried again. No luck again. My friend from church came over with her drink and we poured it on the battery. Once again we tried to crank it, but had no luck. At this point Ronnie's friend got another vehicle brought over and we tried to crank the van with two vehicles' batteries. No luck.

In my head I'm calculating how much this could possibly cost me with towing and a mechanic, plus finding a rental we could all fit in. I'm wondering how in the world we'll be able to afford the repairs and trying to keep from crying.

By now, there were several people around. All of them were trying to figure out why in the world my van wouldn't start. It just didn't make sense. The friend from church tried to crank it one more time. And when she did, she asked why the van was in "neutral" rather than "park." No one knew, but she shifted it into "park," and tried once more to crank it. Lo and behold, it started! The only problem was that it had been in the wrong 

Guess Who Didn't Show...

Thus far, Ethan has lost five of his baby teeth. After the first three, the tooth fairy showed up, deposited a dollar bill, and left a happy child in her wake. That's how I imagine her process works on a good night,c anyway.

With tooth number four, there was a slight hiccup. By this I mean that Ethan's daddy was home. One would think assistance from a father would help the tooth fairy remember the task at hand, but no, it didn't. That fairy stayed up late talking to the man of the house and forgot why she was even at our house in the first place. Shame on her!

The next morning Ethan flew into my room in quite a tizzy exclaiming, "The tooth fairy didn't leave me any money!" Yikes! Not what parents want to hear. Ronnie quickly grabbed a spare bill and went to the kids' room to help "find" what the tooth fairy had actually left. Ethan bought it. Whew! Surely that tooth fairy had learned her lesson!

Last night, Ethan told me that his other top front tooth was loose. And indeed it was. I instructed him to wiggle it really good and saw that it was time to be removed. I offered to yank it out, but he declined, saying that he could do it himself. Alrighty. Sure enough, he got brave and pulled hard enough only to look down at his cloth to see no tooth. It was quite funny to watch. With his mouth hanging open, trying to keep his pearly whites visible and talk at the same time, he mumbled, "Is it still there?" "Yes, sweetie, it's still there. You're going to have to really pull on it hard to get it all the way out." And that he did! He pulled and there was his little tooth on the cloth! "Take a picture, Mama!" (It looked gross, so I'm not sharing.)

Off to bed went my happy snaggle-toothed little boy, anxiously awaiting his crisp dollar bill at wake up.

Only the money wasn't there when he woke up. Yup. That tooth fairy done messed up again! Apparently she was super tired and totally forgot the previous evening's events and didn't even think about delivering a reward for Ethan's bravery. At least that's what I heard. Someone really should fire this chick and get a more reliable fairy for these kids.

I was feeding Melia when Ethan comes charging at me with his Kleenex-bound tooth, declaring in an angry voice, "She didn't even come! My tooth is still here and there's NO money!" Uh oh. I explained that she had probably been, but why would she really want your tooth anyway, and told him to get dressed while I went to see if I could find his money. For a second I saw a look on his face telling me that he has the worst tooth fairy in the world. I agree, sadly.

I quickly grabbed a dollar and headed to his room, pretending to dig under his pillow and yelled out to him, "I found it! I don't know why you didn't see it! It's right here! Come see for yourself!"

Did he buy it? I don't know. Did he get his dollar? Yes. Was he happy? Yes, he was. Is the tooth fairy in trouble? Yes, I think she is. Maybe she'll redeem herself next time.

Well Checks Times Three

When I scheduled Melia's two month well check, I also bravely scheduled Ezra's two year and Elijah's three year as well.

Yes, Elijah was three in January. I've been a busy woman.

After I scheduled the appointments, I worried about the logistics of my choice. How will I hold Ezra and/or Melia while they're getting shots while also caring for the other? How will I console each one after said shots? Everyone knows that Mama's hugs take the hurt away.

When Grandma Jackie heard I was taking them all at the same time, she quickly volunteered to tag along and help out. So this morning, after I loaded up my clan, we headed to her house to pick her up and go on our adventure.

First of all, there's nothing like the looks of other parents in the waiting room when the nurse comes out and calls not one, not two, but three names and you're the only family moving. Then there's nothing like trying to get toddlers to stand still to be weighed and measured. Who am I kidding? There's nothing like doing anything with all these kiddos.  :)

Nurse Pamela and Dr. Connors are so awesome at taking care of children. They love their jobs and it shows! They both handled my three-in-one appointment very well and I was very appreciative.

Ladies first! Melia weighs in at 10lbs. 1oz. She's still a light weight! This puts her in the 23rd percentile for her age. She is 23" long which is the 60th percentile so she's just about average in length. We're hoping she starts to bulk up soon!

Ezra weighs in at 33.6lbs. He is 35" tall. His weight is the 93rd percentile and his height is the 60th. Therefore, he's average in height, but a little on the chunky side. The good news is that he is more slim than he was at his last checkup so he's moving in the right direction!

Elijah is in the 84th percentile for height, measuring 41". And his weight is 41.6lbs., which is the 84th percentile. I was told he was on the heavy side as well, but I'm really not too concerned. He really isn't big at all!

Everyone is healthy and growing, but we're preparing to investigate Elijah's speech a little further. While I can understand most of what he says, there are times that I have no clue what he is saying and we end up playing charades. Many times, when he's asked to repeat something a few times, he gets frustrated and stops the conversation. I feel so bad for him when he can't get his point across! He's a smart boy and has lots to say, but it is difficult for him to articulate. Dr. Connors explained that I should definitely be able to understand nearly everything he's saying, and others should be able to understand the majority of his speech, but that's not the case. The doctor's office is making contact with the proper venues and we'll be referred for evaluation soon. Today his hearing was tested and he passed with flying colors so we were able to rule out any audiological problems, thankfully.

And I must say, these three kiddos were awesome today! Elijah and Ezra took the flu mist with no problems, Ezra didn't flinch when he had his toe poked for blood tests, and Melia only cried a little when she got her THREE shots. I'm so thankful that they are well cared for and that we have the means to take them for medical care!

Snake!

I hate snakes. It's biblical. Remember in Genesis when the serpent convinced Eve to eat the forbidden fruit? And then Adam did and God found out? Then when it all came out, God told the serpent he'd have to crawl on his belly and that there would be enmity between the serpent and the woman. Enmity means hostility or hatred. Therefore, there is enmity between me and any snake I happen to come into contact with, especially when he decides to enter my home.

Last Thursday, the kids and I were getting ready to go to the library for preschool story time. I told the boys to go to their rooms to get shoes. They both went to Elijah's room, so Melia and I went to Ezra's room. Right about Ezra's shoe basket was a hole that Ronnie had to put in the wall in order to work on the bath tub faucet in the next room. I'd been after him to patch it up for awhile, but it hadn't been done. I was standing in the bedroom, looking down in the shoe basket, when some movement caught my eye. There was a snake crawling into my house through that hole! I lost it! I started screaming and yelled at the boys to get out of the house. They had no clue what was going on, but they started screaming and took off.

I ran to the phone and called Ronnie. Being 3.5 hours away, there wasn't really anything he could do. He said he'd get someone over here, but I told him it wouldn't matter because there was no way I was hanging around waiting on them. When we hung up, I went back to Ezra's room, but didn't see the snake. I wasn't about to go looking for him, so I shut the door and sealed the room off by shoving towels under it. Then I got out of there until Ronnie could get home.

When I got home that night, Ronnie had looked through the room, but had no luck finding the snake. But he was sweet and moved Ezra's bed to the other room. The door was shut again and the towels replaced.

Friday, Ronnie repeated the search. He went through the room, looked in all the dresser drawers, and messed around in the closet. (The closet is messy because that's where all my craft stuff is and it is far from organized here lately.) No snake.

On Saturday, my dear husband decided it was time to patch the hole. Finally. He did a good job and I was appreciative. He looked again, but found no slithering critter. He assured me that the snake had more than likely gone back out the way it had entered. After all that time, the door was left open, but Ezra stayed in the other room.

Monday morning, Ronnie got up and left like normal. I got up, sent Ethan to school, and then I took the other kids to my mom's so I could help her out some. We got home in time to get Ethan off the bus, to do homework and fix supper before heading to church for revival. Things were going well.

Then I had to go to the bathroom. Sorry if this is TMI. I was sitting there when a movement caught my eye at the full length mirror across from me. It was that stupid snake. I jumped up and ran out the bathroom and then out the front door. The boys followed me. I was looking for the shovel, but I couldn't find it. I started looking for anything to kill that booger with. He wasn't getting away again! (In my mind I was trying to figure out how to get everything we would need for the rest of the week in 2 seconds in case my plan to kill this thing didn't work.) Looking around our yard, I saw a tomato plant and there was a porch rail that Ronnie had used to stake the plant. I ran over to it, yanked it out of the dirt, ripped the plant off of it and started back inside. I yelled for Ethan to get Melia and to keep everyone outside.

In the bathroom, the snake was still where he had been. I stepped onto the bath tub and rammed his body with my stick. He took off under a box that was sitting at the wall. I used the stick to throw the box out of the way and started jabbing him with the stick. I couldn't see his head because he went under a pile of clothes, so I was hitting his body. That's when he brought his head out and struck of the the stick. I tried to hit his head, but missed again and he struck again. I just kept hitting him with the stick with all I had, the whole time praying out loud for God to please help me because I couldn't do this. Finally, I hit his head and he stopped striking. I hit him a couple more times for good measure and walked out of the bathroom.

I called my daddy and asked him to come dispose of the corpse, then I called Ronnie to tell him that I had gotten the snake. Neither of them could hardly understand me because I could barely talk. I could barely breathe and I was shaking like never before. I walked outside to where my babies were and fell on the ground. I just sat there, shaking, until my daddy got there.

My sweet daddy went in and got the snake out. He made sure it was dead and then disposed of it for me.

I had trouble sleeping last night because I kept seeing that snake every time I closed my eyes. But I am thankful for many things in this situation. I'm thankful that I was the one who saw it both times. If the boys had seen it in their room, they probably would have picked it up, thinking it was a toy. I'm thankful it didn't bother my babies while they were sleeping. I'm thankful it didn't bite anyone. And I'm thankful that God gave me the strength and courage to kill it, because that wasn't me.

30 By Thirty - 9/23

Not too much to post about this week because I didn't do very well. I tried eating less, but I was hungry all the time. This led to me overeating right before bedtime. Then there's the fact that I only exercised one time all week. Not a good combo.

I forgot to weigh this weekend, but I remembered today. It was lunch time (I like to weigh first thing in the morning) and I had been eating and drinking through the morning, but I was right around where I started. So, I didn't lose, but I didn't really gain too much either. And that's a good thing.

Oh well. I'll try to do better this week. I'm trying to eat more at breakfast to curb daytime snacking. We're also eating supper earlier because we have revival this week so maybe that will help as well.

30 By Thirty

I'll turn thirty in February.

On one hand that seems so young, but on the other it seems a little old, er, mature. I don't feel old, but I've had a few health things that have reminded me that it is time to lose some (all?) of the baby weight I've accumulated in the last seven years.

There's the whole gestational diabetes thing. I've been diagnosed three times and was told that because of this I am at a much higher risk of developing diabetes later in life. I don't want that.

Then Ronnie and I had physicals done for a new life insurance policy and it revealed that my triglycerides were slightly elevated. My dad is on medication for this issue and I really don't want to follow in his footsteps.

So what's a girl to do?!   Well, this girl decided that she is going to attempt to lose thirty pounds by her thirtieth birthday.

I weighed at my parents' house (I don't want scales at my house so I don't become obsessive.) last weekend and again yesterday. And in the first week I'm down .6. Not too bad!

I'm not going on any crazy diets. I won't limit myself to only certain foods or take anything crazy. I'm going to work on portion control and some exercise. I'm not going to stress if the pounds don't melt away because I'm still the sole source of nourishment for Melia.

I plan to post periodic updates here an d am using myfitnesspal.com to log food and exercise. I hope these two things keep me accountable!

Are you trying to lose weight? Or get healthier? What are you doing? Is it working?

Mister P

Elijah has just informed me that his baby sister's name is Mister P. He went over to the pack n play and asked me, "Where is Mister P?" Once I figured out that he was talking about Melia, I told him I was feeding her. Silly boy was looking at her the whole time. So he comes over and starts singing a personalized song for Mister P. It went something like this:

Mister P, Mister P, all woo do is dwank, and dwank, and poop and peeeeeee!
And sometimes you fro up on w'all (while looking at me).
I wuv woooo!
I wuv wooooo!
And that is the end!

Ahhhh...these are the moments!

Melia's smile while sitting with Elijah.

What's In A Name - Part 4

The final post about names! Baby Girl is here!

Ronnie and I knew what we were going to name her when we found out we were having a girl, kind of. Melia was originally going to be her middle name, but I decided I didn't like the first name we had picked as much as I once thought I did. So we decided to name her Melia. For those that haven't figured it out, "Melia" is "Melissa" without the two "s"es.

Since the name isn't common and I spelled it weird, I have found several different meanings for Melia. I've seen several meanings according to "Melea" in the Bible, which include "fulness" and "supplied." I like to think that God supplied us with her after we prayed for her and also that she has made our family full. It is also a common Hawaiian name which means Plumeria, a beautiful flower.

Her middle name is Pearl. This is for two reasons. The first is that my great grandmother's name was Pearl and we try to incorporate a family name as the middle name of each of the kids.

The second reason has a cute little story. Ronnie taught Sunday School for the first time back in the spring, in May, I think. While he was teaching, he mentioned patience, and that he had been told he has the patience of a clam. One of the pupils, who had never heard that saying, asked why a clam was considered patient. Ronnie explained that a clam has to be patient in order to take something that irritates it, a grain of sand, and turn it into a beautiful pearl, a process that takes a long time. The student looked over at me and told Ronnie that he must be patient because he got his pearl, meaning me. After that class I told Ronnie that he had been patient and was finally getting a girl (he always wanted a "Daddy's Girl") so I thought it would be neat to name her Pearl. He agreed and now we have Melia Pearl.

Baby Girl's Birth Story - Part 2

It actually didn't take long for the nurse in L&D to call me back, but at the time it felt like forever. When the phone rang, I grabbed it, but hesitated to answer. I was wondering how I would react when she told me to call back or wait until the next day.

I answered and was told that I could come on in, to get there when I could. What?! Seriously?! I'm getting to go to the hospital? Okay!

That's when the real nerves sat in. I was about to have my baby.

Ronnie and I loved the boys bye and sat out to the hospital. On the way we stopped at McDonald's so Ronnie could have something to eat since hadn't eaten anything all day either.

We arrived at the hospital around 11.00. We were quickly whisked into the room by a nurse and I was promptly given instructions to get into a lovely hospital gown.

Last pregnant picture. 

Once I was changed and in bed, the nurse arrived to start getting me prepped. I was so happy that it was Donna, the nurse who was with me when I had Elijah! The doctor came in once I was on the IV and explained that the antibiotic needed to be in me for four hours before delivery to prevent a longer hospital stay and since she felt that I have fast labors she wasn't going to start pitocin just yet and wouldn't break my water until around 3.00. I said that would be fine. She checked me and I was only around 2 cm dilated.

So for the next three hours Ronnie and I hung out in the room waiting for the action to get started. Finally around 3.30 the doctor came back to break my water. I was only around 2.5 cm when she did that, but once my water was broken, I really started to feel some contractions.

The contractions really affected my back. When I would get up to visit the rest room, I would feel better, but as soon as I had to get back in that bed, my back hurt so bad. I mentioned this to Donna and she asked if I wanted the peanut ball. I had no idea what she was talking about so she said she'd bring it to me and see if it helped. I found out that this is a peanut ball:

Oh boy did that thing help! Donna helped me get on it and I bounced and swayed on that ball for about two hours! I could still feel the contractions, and some of them hurt, but I could adjust myself so that my back didn't hurt so bad.

The problem with the peanut ball was that the external heart monitor wasn't picking up baby girl's heart rate too well. Part of it was that she was moving and part was that I was bouncing all over the place. Because of this, I had to get back in the bed for a bit so we could be sure she was doing okay. Once I hit the bed, the contractions felt 10 times, 100 times worse than before. When everyone left (but Ronnie) and I had the chance to focus on my body and nothing else, I started thinking about the epidural.

Soon after it was time for Donna to go home so she introduced me to Sue, who would be with me through the night. Right after shift change, I asked to be checked. When I was told I was 5.5 cm I opted for the epidural. I felt that I had too far to go and that I was hurting too bad to make it without one. I was disappointed in myself because I had really wanted to deliver without one, but I just couldn't hack it.

It seemed like it took forever for the anesthesiologist to get to my room, but she was there rather quickly since she had just left a C-section down the hall. Ronnie was told to sit in a chair across the room because too many daddies had passed out during the administration before. This made me nervous because he had always been right there with me before. But Sue was great at helping me do what I was supposed to. I was sitting on the bed with my legs crossed (as well as they would cross with my big belly in the way) and leaning onto Sue. Let me say, this was the worst, most painful experience of my life. The lady stuck me with some numbing stuff, then tried to insert the epidural. She couldn't get it to do right. Then she stuck me again and jabbed around in my back. She pulled out and stuck me again. More rough pushing. Oh my word, I thought I would die! I don't remember if she stuck me a forth time or not, but she was pushing and talking my ears off about crap I didn't care about. Then she hit a nerve, literally, and my leg moved with a sharp pain and I screamed. Then she did it again and again. Not having control of a moving body part is such an odd feeling. She asked if I had ever had trouble with an epidural before and I told her no about the time she got it to work.

During that process my contractions were coming faster and harder. Before she got it in, I told her and Sue that I needed to push. Baby Girl was coming and I needed to push her out! NOW! I  had to sit in that position for a couple more minutes while the anesthesiologist finished up. Once she did, I was told I could lay down, but I couldn't move because I was in  the midst of a crazy contraction and had I moved, I believe the baby would have shot out of me! When the contraction was over, I turned in the bed and the nurse checked me. I know it sounds gross, but she barely touched me and announced, "You're complete!"

The doctor was called in and was working on getting dressed in her scrubs while I was told to not push. Hardest thing in the world is trying to hold back a baby that wants out! Finally I was told that I could push and I did with all my might. Her head came out, then her shoulders on the next push and finally the rest of her on the last push of the contraction.
Melia Pearl was born at 8.01pm on July 19, 2013. She weighed 8 lbs. 9 oz. and was 21 inches long.

The doctor placed her on my chest and her daddy cut her cord and we have never been happier!