Today, after bungling yet another sentence (this time it was the word television), I muttered to myself, "I have lost the ability to pronunce things."

Pronunce? That's not just a typo. That's what I said. How appropriate.

I think, as all my ligaments and such loosened so I could have a baby, my tongue loosened as well. To the point that I can't speak intelligibly. Sorry all.

I've noticed that my last several posts haven't had pictures. Sorry, Alice. It's the curse of being the third child. When I only had one baby there were many posts, with pictures and lots of cute nonsense about the fun of having a baby. You are a fun baby. So since you look an awful lot like your brother did at this age (darker hair aside), just go back and look at those pictures and pretend they're of you.

Sometimes it's nice to have a scapegoat

It's a good thing Alice only gets up once a night.

She takes about a half hour for eating and a diaper change. Then she snuggles off back to sleep. About this time, my stomach thinks: I'm vertical. Feed me.

And since I know that a mere drink of water won't subdue those nursing hunger pains, I obey. We head down to the kitchen, my stomach and I, and we dine. About this time, my brain thinks: I'm up. I'm eating. Now is the time to think about Important Things. Like why people make noises in their sleep and why I don't have more shoes, and whyamIstillawake.

Then I decide to read. Something boring is best, because then I can go back to sleep faster. This morning it was Twain's Life on the Mississippi which, while quite good, is less than riveting.

If I'm lucky, this all takes about an hour. But it usually takes longer. I'm blaming all this unsleeping on the prednisone. We're weaning down the dosage, my doctor and I, but these things take time. Apparently. I'm also using this as the excuse that I haven't lost any weight for three weeks. The first fifteen pounds was gone pretty quick, but it hasn't budged since. This is a first for me, so of course I'm gonnna blame it on the drugs (it of course has nothing to do with all those irritating middle-of-the-night snacks).

All this to say I'm not functioning at my peak. If I seem a little slow, you'll know why.

But, the baby is doing wonderfully. The kids even fight for who gets to hover, way too close, in her line of sight. They don't seem to be getting tired of her.

And, unrelated story: today on the way home from preschool, Nathan said, "I think it would be fun to have a new boat." (Did we walk past a boat? I don't know).

me: Well, that would be fun. But boats cost a lot of money.

Nathan: Yeah. You would need a big purse full of money to buy a boat.

me: Yes, that would probably work.

Nathan: Or maybe two.


So, happy Tuesday, all. I'm looking forward to pizza tonight, provided free of charge by a friend. Having a baby is great because it makes people want to give you things.

Alice's birth story

Well, Alice was born. The end.

The way my memory has been going lately, I'd better get this written down before I forget. It's been almost four weeks already. I can't believe it.

I was so ready to have this baby. I'd been ready for a month. I wanted to be done. I was uncomfortable, irritable, and tired of doctor's visits. Because I had not just the regular OB visits, but for the last few months I was also making weekly visits to my hematologist's office for CBCs. And Jan, the lovely NP who I usually see there, and whom I used to like, made me take drugs that made me uncomfortable, irritable, and tired of doctor's visits. I no longer like her.

I was scheduled to go in Monday for another IV infusion of a ridiculously expensive drug, and I was mad about it. Who prescribes such expensive drugs for medical non-emergencies? And my OB, once my platelet counts were up after this ridiculously expensive drug had done its magic, wanted to induce. I wasn't very happy about this either. I prefer to let my babies choose their own birthdays. Call me old-fashioned (it's really just indecisiveness).

So, all that was going on, and I was just itching to get this baby out of me. And then our executive secretary called--would you say the prayers on Sunday? And I thought, I can't promise we'll be there. But, there's no way we'll have a baby by Sunday. It's way too soon. So I agreed.

And then Saturday afternoon I went into labor. Sunday morning she was born. Take that, doctors. Ha! Thanks for cooperating, Alice. And sorry we weren't to church, Kenny.

I'd had contractions for a while early Saturday morning, but they didn't last. So we went about our day. We went to an Easter brunch at my grandma's. I'd planned to weed the flower bed in the back yard in the afternoon, but I took a little nap instead. When I woke up, I had just tiny baby contractions. More of the same, I thought. So I cleaned the kitchen, tidied a little, and sent Levi off on his way to help my brother move.

And the contractions never went away. They got a little bigger. My sister called, and talked to me for a long time to distract me. We read cookbooks on the phone as we decided what to make for dinner. I was a little distracted, and when Clara climbed on a chair to help me cook waffles, I forgot to warn her not to touch the waffle iron. Her poor little hand got a tiny blister, even after the lavender oil. After dinner I turned on The Sword in the Stone and timed contractions, which were still all over the place.

Levi got home, we put the kids to bed, watched some TV, and then went to bed. I still wasn't sure I was really in labor. But they were getting harder, and I didn't get any sleep. By two I figured we ought to go to the hospital, so we called my parents and finished packing.

At the hospital, we went in through the emergency room where I got to say hi to my friend who was at work. After a phone call to my doctor, the nurse made us walk the halls. Between Friday and early Sunday, I'd dilated from a 2 to a 5, but my doctor didn't really believe I was in labor either. 

Eventually we got checked in and I reluctantly agree to an epidural. I didn't think my platelet count would be high enough for one, and I was all psyched up to have a natural birth. Just to prove I'm tough enough? I don't know. But doctors liked epidurals when you're doing a VBAC. And Alice's heart rate wasn't what they wanted it to be (turns out she was just asleep). But if it hadn't improved a C-section might have been necessary. Of course, when they tell you something like that, it's pretty convincing. And my platelets had gone up enough in the last couple of days that the anesthesiologist agreed to do one.

Once I got the epidural, my water broke, and Alice's heart rate perked right up. And it was nice to have a couple hours of rest. I'd been awake since about 4 Saturday morning.

As for the birth, I only had to push for about 15 minutes, and had only a small tear. Easy easy compared to Nathan, the 8 lb posterior baby (3 hours). Now just to decide on a name (it took us more than 24 hours to sit down and finally decide on Alice Margaret Barton).

My parents brought the kids up to visit that evening. Since it's still flu season, they couldn't come into my room and see Alice. But I could go out of the wing and see them, and the nurse held the baby up at the window so they could peek at her. Nathan said on the way home, "Dad, my baby sister has short boy hair." He was a little perplexed.

And that's that.  

Tiny on patience

This morning, while Clara was "helping" me clean the bathroom, she either asked me how I was or what I was.

"I'm short on patience. Are you short on patience?"

"No, I tiny on patience."

She hears the phrase "short and tiny" quite often around here.

In other news: Nathan has decided to give up naps. Couldn't he have waited a few more months?

Also, I got a letter the other day that the state of Utah was keeping my information, and it may have been hacked. Why, if I'm not on Medicaid or CHIP, are they storing my information? This doesn't make sense to me.

Tiny on patience, indeed.

In good news, Alice has been sleeping five hours a stretch at night for two nights. Just one 3:00 am feeding. It's been awesome. But I think it's just the sleepy part of a growth spurt.

And I got to see my good friend Whitney the other day. That was a good time. We met for dinner at City Creek. The kids had a fun time seeing the fountains and the flowers at Temple Square, and so they mostly behaved. It was only my second time out with three kids, and I think we may just survive.

He's finally four

 Whew. The day finally came. He's been counting down since January, and it's been a long wait. We started out the day with an Easter Saturday tradition, the egg hunt.

 Then we headed to the train museum at Union Station. The kids had a great time running around the section with the model trains, following the tiny engines as they whizzed by. We had a hard time keeping track of them.

 After the museum we went to Sandy's for lunch. After our food came, the kids were talking and we realized that they thought our waitress was Sandy. No, we explained, her name is Valerie. But obviously, if we're at Sandy's somebody must be named Sandy. And so when she brought our check, the ostensibly shy Clara asked, "Are you Sandy?" It was pretty funny. After we told her we didn't want dessert, Nathan said, "but I do want dessert." But, since the restaurant didn't have dragon birthday cake, he decided he'd better wait until that night. So when he heard the waitress asking the couple across the room if they wanted dessert, he announced loudly, "I'm going to have dragon cake at home."  There was also some talk about maybe Sandy would have dragon cake at her house instead of her restaurant, and maybe we should go there, but in the end we decided to have dragon birthday cake at home. After dinner. Whew.

Then we headed home for a nap, during which the parents slept and the kids...watched tv. Not according to plan. They were pretty wired the entire day.

 Nathan on one of his presents, a big kid bike. He's pretty excited about it, except that now he's got another thing to learn how to do. And I think he's a little more excited about the bike helmet he got than about the bike.

 It's a dragon cake. It is. I had a baby two weeks ago and still managed to decorate a cake and go on a birthday outing. So, it's a dragon.

Alice opted to wear a cupcake shirt rather than eat cake.

While we were eating cake, Clara decided to finish the remains of her pizza. And something else.... Look closely. See? Apparently the wax turned her off the rest of her dessert, because she didn't  eat her cake.

And what else  happened? Oh, I sang Happy Birthday to the wrong kid. Clara blew out the candles just before we started singing, and so...

I need more sleep. But the birthday day was a big hit, thumbs up all around.

Happy Easter

 Do you like Clara's ridiculously large flower on her headband? Strangely enough, I do. That's the sort of thing I used to make fun of. The times, they are a changin. 

 These sisters are pretty adorable.

And the brother, once he deigned to set down his gun, was able to join the picture.

Alice didn't make it to church, but she got to wear a dress anyways. Levi took both the older kids to stake conference by himself, and I stayed home and took a nap. Happy Easter to me. Bless that man.

Eight days in...

 The kids made sure she wouldn't be bored while she slept.

...We're doing pretty well. Alice (so far, knock on wood) has been my best sleeper. So, armed with a baby who'll sleep on her own for at least a few hours at a time (and sometimes 5), I'm feeling good. I feel so good, in fact, that I'm feeling impatient that I'm not feeling better. Then I have to remind myself that I had a baby eight days ago. Eight days. It's okay that your clothes still don't fit, and that you're tired still.

Today was Levi's first day back to work, and I was a little nervous. He was a champion taker-carer-of last week. He played with the kids, cleaned the house, and did whatever needed to be done. It was wonderful. But today went well, so I think we'll survive.

The kids by and large are firmly in the Alice Fan Club. We all are. There have only been a couple of times when Clara told me to take her downstairs, and Nathan complained about her crying. For some reason, they don't like to listen to a baby crying. Huh. I wish they didn't like to listen to themselves crying, but that doesn't seem to be bothersome. They're very curious: how does Alice eat? Does she have teeth? Does she want the last pancake? Don't let Alice eat my food. Does her talk? Why doesn't Alice know any words?

Luckily she's a pretty chill baby. She still sleeps all the time, so we'll see if that lasts once she's awake for more than just eating. And we can't get enough of funny newborn faces.