Being a baby is hard work...

March 2013

All the growing and eating has left this kid (and mama) exhausted...

Sweet Dreams

Love me some baby-snuggles

Her first smile captured on camera...sleeping of course.

No rest for the weary...she even practices her mean ninja moves in her sleep.

Phew...

My babies holding the baby

It's such sweet moment when you get to introduce a new baby to the siblings.  The look of wonder, the fuss and careful movements of the hand-off...and then when the baby is finally settled in their little arms, there's the look of "what now?"  

Charlie's a lucky girl.

It warms my heart and makes me smile.

  

Beautiful.  Family.

First Bath at Home

March 2013

One of my favorite times of the newborn season, is bathtime.  Trace usually gives them, but every once in a awhile, he lets me :)

Charlie loves the bath, it just took her some time to decide that for herself.

"Why you gotta do this?!"

Look at those hands...future ball player? One can hope...

 The furrowed brow...this girl came out with it...and she has no qualms about using it...

The first few baths, Charlie wasn't too sure what to think...even after she was out, dryed and dressed.  This picture caption should read: "What is this milk you speak of, and how can I get some?"

or maybe..."Oh, have I got a gift for you...just wait, I'm still loading..."

Charlie's Heart

I have been mulling over how to write this post. Partly because I wasn't even sure how to feel.

But we are starting to get our bearings, and here I am.

The day after Charlie was born, the resident Pediatrician came into our room during his morning rounds.  He let us know that he detected what he thought might be a heart murmur.  He ordered an echo cardiogram just to be sure.  You know, routine...no big deal.  Being concerned, I spoke with the nurse after he left, and she dealt with it the same way.  Babies have heart murmurs all the time.  Most are non-life threatening.  Some heal on their own.

I have a tendency to over-think things...to worry too soon...to churn over and over in my mind, all the possibilities, preparing myself for the worst-case scenario.  It's a coping mechanism.  I figure if I can prepare myself for the worst, than anything other than that is better and easier to handle.  In theory, it works.  In the life of a parent - it can cause ulcers.  I have been trying really hard not to think the worst.  Trace tells me I worry too much, and until I get all the information, worrying causes undue fear and angst.

Trace was gone getting breakfast with Aleana when the Dr spoke with me.  So when he returned, I told him what the Dr had explained and what needed to happen.  Again, no big deal.  I was too tired, and drugged up to allow myself to think further into the worst-case scenario department.  I told myself not to freak out and that was that.  I know of a few friends that do have heart murmurs, and they live normal, relatively healthy lives.  We'd be okay.  Charlie is fine.  Trace's reaction was the same as mine.  Let's just wait and see what the ultrasound reveals, and then we'd go from there.

The time came, and I accompanied Charlie for her echo.  They spent about an hour gathering images of her heart.  I may not be educated in what to look for in ultrasound images, but even I could tell something was not right.  I could hear the murmur in the sound bites that they pulled.  It was prevalent, even to an untrained ear like mine.  And even though the technicians are supposed to keep a straight face, their exchanged glances gave it away.

Something was wrong.

I sat there in a wheel chair, trying to keep Charlie content, and trying to keep my nausea at bay.  This was too much...I am just doing what I normally do...I am simply reading too much into this.  I will not freak out.  Charlie is okay...

When I returned to the room with Charlie, Trace and Aleana were waiting for me.  He asked how it went, and I said fine...no need to worry.  The nurse told us we'd get the results sometime in the afternoon.  The radiologist needed to look at it.

So we waited.

With a knock on the door, in walked yet another Dr carrying a piece of paper.  I assumed it was just the next pediatrician on-call making the afternoon rounds.  Trace and Aleana were sitting on the cot in the room, Trace holding Charlie.  Aleana and Trace were watching a movie on the laptop, trying to keep the room quiet.  My head was spinning with the narcotics swimming in my system and the soreness that accompanies a c-section.

Then the Dr pulls up a chair.

He starts speaking and showing us the hand drawn diagram of Charlie's heart.  Trace and I exchange glances.  He hands Charlie to Aleana.  Poor Aleana, not sure what to do or think.

Trace comes and sits at my bedside and grabs my hand.  Our newborn world comes to a screeching halt.  The nausea returns, and so do tears.

Charlie does indeed have a heart murmur - a ventricular septal defect (VSD).  It is a hole between her right and left ventricle.  It is too large to heal on its own.  And too large to ignore.  But there is more.  She has what is called Tetralogy of Fallot.  Her right ventricle is enlarged, and her her pulmonary valve is narrowed.  A congenital heart defect that occurred at 8 weeks of development.  She will need open-heart surgery...within 3-6 months.

Dr. Womack said a whole lot of other things.  Gave us advice on how to handle the news, and how to deal with Charlie.  He answered all our questions.  I remember bits and pieces, but honestly I think most of it went in one ear and out the other.

My baby was sick.

Fear.  It's the only word I can think of to describe what we felt.  As it should, I was shaken to the core.  How can I protect Charlie?  How is this happening?  My perfect baby girl - the one we fought so hard to let grow big and strong needs help.  This little beautiful angel with my chubby cheeks and her daddy's blond hair already has a tough road ahead of her.

And I can't change that. I am not in control.

The news was overwhelming.  Immediate concerns of how to take care of her and what symptoms to look for came to the forefront.  What can we do to help her?  The resident pediatricians and nurses wanted to come listen to her heart.  I guess it isn't as common to have a baby in the regular nursery, not NICU, with this congenital heart defect.  From the outside she is perfectly healthy.  She scored high on her apgar test.  She's pink and breathing just fine.

For a time, there was a slight concern that Charlie might have DiGeorge Syndrome (a  22 chromosomal genetic deletion, not mutation), as Tetralogy of Fallot is more common with babies that have DiGeorge Syndrome, and Down Syndrome as well.  But her genetic testing has since come back negative for DiGeorge and 85% of it's variants.  And she is developing right on schedule.

It took me three weeks to speak of Charlie's condition without crying.

It also took me three weeks to realize, or should I say, remember what I should have known to begin with...

1. The Lord is in control.  In the wise words of my mom, He has carried Charlie in His hands this far, and isn't going to stop now.  And if I take the time, I can see his hand in this pregnancy time and time again. Charlie is meant to be here.  She is meant to be with us.

2. Putting trust where trust needs to be.  Firstly, the Lord.  I know it's okay to be scared, the unknown always is...but I can feel the reassuring comfort that only the Lord can bring.  Secondly, putting trust in the Drs and surgeons that will take care of Charlie...the drs that are seeing her right now have been amazing so far.  As a mom, I am limited as to what I can do for her heart.  I am grateful that there are those who know and have the expertise to take care of her.

3. This is our reality.  It's not going to go away if I don't think or speak about it.  It's something we have to face...Charlie is a fighter and she can do this.  She has been preparing for this.  She, in comparison to the rest of my pregnancies, has been the strongest mover and shaker by far.  We started calling her our Ninja girl early on...and it suits her more now than ever.

4. Charlie has become our strength.  Watching her grow and gain weight and seeing her eyes twinkle are inspiring.  She has such a strong spirit.  We love her and are blessed to have her in our family.  She is adored by all of us.

5.  Prayer is everything...from our pleadings with the Lord to others on Charlie's behalf.  We can feel His healing power.  We can feel that quiet peace that can't come from anywhere else.

6. The priesthood.  Being able to be blessed by the power of the priesthood, knowing that miracles happen, is reassuring.  The Lord is aware of Charlie.  He is aware of us.  We are not alone.


Having had a month to digest what is happening, and what will have to happen with Charlie has been long.  And scary.  And testimony building.  I know Charlie's condition isn't the end of the world.  I know it could be much worse.  I know that there are new parents out there that get worse news than ours everyday.  I know we are blessed. I know we can't do this alone, and it was never meant to be that way.

It has changed our family dynamics.  Sitting back and watching Trace, and how he has to not only deal with Charlie, but with me and my recovery, as well as the other kids and how they have to adjust is amazing.  And then having to go to work on top of everything...I am not sure how he has been able to hold it all together.  I know I have been a mess, and could not function without him.  His hugs and his silence, while he lets me cry in his arms when it all gets to be too much, (which, if I am being honest, is almost a daily occurrence)...he has been my rock.  I am used to being strong, and right now I can't be.  Knowing that I have him to lean on is everything to me.  Knowing that he is in Charlie's corner fighting for her, with a father's love is something to see.  I am so glad I married this man.  I am blessed to share 5 beautiful children with him.

We scared.  We are blessed. We are grateful.

And we have a beautiful ninja girl named Charlie.

Charlie Ann Giles

As I sit here, typing, I have a sweet little baby sleeping on my chest.  It really doesn't get any better than this.

Here's her story:

Obviously, we were fighting hard to keep her nice and cozy.  She needed as much time as possible, and as miserable as I was, I was not willing to rush her getting here.

However, after discussing my options with the dr - we decided to induce.  Factors that determined the induction were my heart and low blood pressure issues, living an hour away in a town that does not have the medical facilities to take care of me/baby if something were to go wrong, and I was already showing signs that labor would be coming sooner than later.  So we set a date.

I liked having a definite date.  I could plan out things easier.  I got everything arranged for my kids and where they would stay, as well as our dogs.  Bags got packed.  I even painted my toenails pink, that way I would have something pretty to look at when it came time to push.  I was worried about our little one coming earlier than the planned date, but the closer that the date came - the more excited I was to wait for the said date.  It was a goal that seemed impossible just a month ago.

6am - March 4th: Delivery day.  We arrived at the hospital.  We being me, Trace and Aleana.  I had asked Aleana if she wanted to be part of the whole labor and delivery thing, and she said yes.  Trace and Aleana were excited and I was nervous...as I still hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to try going all natural.  I wanted Aleana to see all of the labor part - pain included, so she would understand a little more of what a woman goes through.  (Admittedly, I was also worried about traumatizing her...but I figured we'd figure it all out as it came).

In came the dr - to check and see what my cervix was up to.  I wanted to know when he was going to break my water - as that is when the real "fun" begins.  He wasn't sure yet - it depended on my progress.  As he checked my cervix, my water broke.  I look at the dr dumbfounded.  He looks at me.  I could tell by his expression - he hadn't intended on breaking my water.  He tells the nurse to stop the pictocin.  He feels around my belly trying to find the baby's head.  Yep, his worries were confirmed.  Our little girl was breech.  And because my water had broke, in a gushing fashion, there was no cushion left to turn her.  We tried, but she wasn't going anywhere.

And then my contractions start coming 2 minutes apart.

You know what that means?

Exactly.  C-section.

I have never had one.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  All I knew was it wasn't what I wanted.  It wasn't what we planned.  It wasn't the experience that I envisioned sharing with my husband or daughter.  I was scared.  But I knew I wanted what was best for baby, and this was it.  So much for the planned relaxing birth.

I have watched "A Baby Story" on TLC.  I've seen dozens of episodes through the years.  I knew what happened during a c-section.  I would at least get to see my baby and touch her.  That would have to do.

Let me just say, my experience wasn't like any of the "A Baby Story" episodes.  I had to fight my way through the fog just to touch my baby girl.  I remember hearing her take and cry her first breaths.  Then I remember Trace asking me if I wanted him to stay with me or go with our sweet baby girl.  (With the baby of course.)  And in the middle of all this, my blood pressure dropped 3 times.  Medication was given that helped bring it up each time - but I was miserable and nauseous and had to fight not passing out pretty much the entire time.  Not fun.

Yep, that's my uterus laying on my lap.  Kind of cool.

The dr wrote a nice reminder for the nurses.  

But even through the fog, her cry was beautiful.  They weighed and measured her as they sewed me up.  I couldn't see her, but I could hear what was going on.  Time: 0939, 7lbs 14oz, 20 1/4'', and her head measured at 14 1/4"  She is by far our smallest baby.  She had the most perfect round little face - I do remember seeing her face.  Our last baby is our smallest and required a c-section.  What are the
chances?...

Such a beautiful little girl.

Trace still got to cut the cord...sort of

Charlie Ann Giles wasn't fazed by any of this.  Her cry was loud and she scored great on the apgar test.  Everything checked out.  They let Trace take her to the room to meet Aleana.  They wheeled me in right after.  I got to hold her for a few minutes.  But then the nauseousness set in, and Trace gladly held her and sat beside me.  It killed me not to be able to hold her.  We waited so long to meet her.

It took me about 24 hours to get out of the fog, and get the feeling back in my legs.

Charlie, from  the start, is a great eater.  She latched on right away and knew exactly what to do.  Out of all our kids, she is by far the easiest to feed.  I finally got to take time and look at all of her little features.  Her hands, and tiny feet. Her round head and chubby cheeks.  The blonde hair.  Her skinny little legs.  Babies are amazing.  She is amazing.

Our little miracle.

For the next 3 days, I just got to sit there in the hospital bed and admire her and thank God for our beautiful Charlie.

In the end, my pretty pink toenails didn't matter.  And all that planning didn't go as planned.  But our sweet Charlie Ann is more than we could have ever expected.

Such a good big sister...

On a side note - Charlie has something called Harlequin Syndrome.  It's something that she will eventually outgrow.  They don't know why it happens, but it has something to do with the circulatory system.  The dr didn't believe me when told him how she was turning red, until I was able to get a picture.  Whatever side she lays on while nursing turns red, but only that side.  It's bizarre, but doesn't cause any harm.

Inevitable Pregnancy Post

Back Story:  We were about to leave for the hospital to have our first born, Aleana.  It occurred to us that maybe we should get some belly shots, you know for posterity.  Trace broke out the camera and tried to take a picture.  The camera made this funky noise and then refused to work.  We had just replaced the battery, so that wasn't it.  There was a new roll of film in it, as we were prepared to take lots of pictures of Aleana and her grand debut.  When the camera wouldn't work, we broke out our backup disposable camera.  Trace tried to take a picture - and nothing.  No flash, no click.  The little wind gear thing was wound.  Whatever was wrong with it, it wouldn't work.  

So there you have it.  I broke not only one, but two cameras in a matter of minutes.  Talk about giving a pregnant women a complex...

Needless to say, I wasn't very willing to have my picture taken when I was pregnant with any of the other kids.  I am not saying that the above incident was the root cause...but it certainly didn't help.  I was more embarrassed as to how big of a pregnant lady I had become.  

Looking back, it was wrong of me to feel that way, on so many levels.  Yes, I was fat.  Yes I was pregnant.  But I don't have very many pictures of me during that time of the kids' lives to share with them now.  Letting something that is that vain influence me has just caused more pain.  I regret it.  I wish that I had better confidence in myself at the time.  Pregnancy and the miracle of birth is a beautiful thing, no matter what size you are.

Of course, I can say all of this because hindsight is 20/20.  It's also a lot easier to allow belly shots and unflattering pregnancy photos to get taken since I am skinnier now.  Again with the self-confidence issue.  

I have pondered why the size of me matters so much.  Beside the "being healthy" reason, why is being skinny so important to me?  

Being on bed rest, I have had a lot of time to think.  And the answer is: it's not.  The actual being skinny to look good for photos ops is not what bothers me.  What bothers me is when I can't do the things that skinny people can do.  When I can't exercise the way I want.  When I can't wear the clothes that I like.  When I can't participate in the activities that I enjoy.  

This pregnancy has been a particularly tough one.  Physically and mentally.  I naively thought that this time around might be easier than my others because I weigh 140 pounds less.  At least that would be the logical thing to think.  Don't get me wrong.  The gastric bypass hasn't negatively affected this pregnancy.  In fact, when doing my research before deciding to expand our family, I found that the gastric bypass was beneficial to patients like me - due to significantly lowering the risk of diabetes and preclampsia.  Being at a normal, healthy weight hasn't caused any issues.  In fact, they have both had a positive impact on this pregnancy.  

What I didn't realize is that healthy weight or not, my uterus has been through a lot.  My heart has it's own issues.  And both have reeked havoc on me.  

And being 34, with 4 kids already doesn't help.

I had to quit running and playing basketball at 16 weeks pregnant due to reoccurring contractions and spotting.  

At 23 weeks, "pelvic activity", as the dr put it, needed to be put on hold - due to contractions.  Poor Trace.

At 31 weeks, and 32 weeks - I had to go the the hospital to stop contractions.  Full bed rest was put into effect.  The dr finally took pity on me and put me on oral terbutaline to keep the contractions at bay.  That drug is the devil.  

I apparently have an irritated uterus.  Can't say I blame her.  I have kind of put her through a lot over the  years.  Me and her have a love/hate relationship.  PCOS hasn't helped.

At 34 weeks, I found myself at the hospital yet again.  This time for heart palpitations and contractions.  My blood pressure was 70/42.  Not good.  Got monitored, more IV fluid, and meds to help with the low blood pressure.

At 35 weeks I was finally able to stop taking the terbutaline.  Trace calls it the "shake and bake" drug.  It made me shake like crazy, but allowed this baby to bake a little longer.  It's awesome not shaking anymore, but these contractions make it hard to sleep, or move for that matter.

So now I am sitting here, typing this post at 38 weeks, almost 39.  I have been dilated for almost 3 weeks now.  I have had good contractions every 9-12 minutes for the past 72 hours.  But not enough to go to the hospital yet.  This stuff is getting really old.  It feels like I have been in labor for the last two months.

Sometime in the last few days, I finally realized what has been bothering me (aside from everything listed above - haha).  Not being able to walk normal, take my kids to school, lift my little ones, exercise, run, jump, clean house, cook dinner, go to social functions, or enjoy "pelvic activity" (which the ban got lifted at 36 weeks by the way - woohoo)....all these things remind me of what it felt like for so many years for me.  Feeling those limitations, whether it's because of physical reasons or mental reasons has made me feel stuck - trapped.  Depressed.  

Depression has such a grip.  A grip that took me 10 years to figure out.

I don't need to be "skinny".  But I do need to be able to do the things that bring me joy.  I truly love being active.  Working out is my Prozac.  (well so is sleep...but that's a given).  Being able to have the energy I need for my kids and family is what keeps my head above water.  Being healthy is a mental state for me.  I need to be in shape to stay sane.

The other day, Trace and I were talking about this pregnancy signifying the end of a season.  Our last baby.  And how life just keeps moving.  He said this moment is kind of "bitter-sweet".  Right now, there is nothing bitter about it for me.  But there is a lot of sweetness in knowing that we have a little one coming...finally.  We are so excited to meet her...to hold her and get to know her special spirit.  And I have a few questions to ask her - like why she is so determined to be a ninja girl...because with all the flips and tricks that she is still managing to accomplish with the very little room she has is truly a feat.  If we didn't already have a name picked out - we would call her Xena.  Princess Warrior. :)

My bitter pill to swallow won't happen for a few more years...you know - when my babies aren't babies anymore.

By then, my uterus and I will have gone our separate ways.  

----------------------------------------------------

And without further adieu...some belly shots.  With lumps and bumps and all.  :) 

Take that posterity!

13 weeks

27 weeks

34 weeks

38 weeks

It truly is the end of several seasons, isn't it...

Bugsy Malone

When Aleana announced that she wanted to audition for the local school/community musical "Bugsy Malone", I wasn't surprised.

School plays are certainly not my thing.  I did one once, in the 8th grade.  I was a girl scout - and had one line.  The idea of having a part sounded great, but actually being in a play made me feel self-conscience and uncomfortable.  I didn't like the feeling of everyone watching me.  And oh, the thought of messing up?  The whole experience was too nerve-racking for me.

But Aleana?  She's not like that at all.  She just does her thing, and if she messes up, it's no big deal.  It doesn't mess with her head like it would for me.  She has a quiet confidence about her that I only wish I had at her age.

The part she tried out for, she didn't get.  But that didn't phase her.  She was given the part of the Loretta, a 20's dancer/dance line.  She had a few speaking lines, and several group musical/dance numbers.  

She started play practice in October.  Everyday after school for two hours.  For 4 1/2 months.

And this last weekend was the big production premier.  I wasn't exactly sure what to expect.  I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of work and talent in the production.  It was over two hours long, with several solos and groups songs.  Fun choreography.  The kids did a fantastic job.

But my Aleana?!  She was the best out of the whole lot.  (Yes - my unabashed mama bear pride is speaking here).  

She was awesome.  Every once in awhile, I had to choke back the emotions...she's just growing up so fast.  

So proud of you Aleana Mae!

Trent's choice

I love it when Trent has library time at school.  

The books that he picks out never cease to surprise me.  

They are almost always non-fiction.

They are are books I would have never even cracked open at his age...let alone my age.

The subject/topic of each book varies.  But usually it's a how-to book or a full-of-facts book.

This book is his latest choice in leisure reading. The first day he brought it home, I could not get his nose out of it.  Every time I turned around, he was lost in the plethora of hints and tips for the home.  I actually had to take it away from him, so he would do his homework and chores.

I guess I am just amazed.  This type of book would never catch my interest.  It's not something that I would ever think a 9 yr old would read.  And yet Trent loves it.  

I love watching how he sees the world.  It is so completely different through his eyes.  It's been an eye-opening experience for me.  And he has taught me some interesting facts along the way...like how I can use a terracotta planter to bake my bread in for a unique loaf shape. :)

I'll take it!

Guess What?!?

Luke almost outdid himself.  It's hard to match a birthday present, like the one he gave when he decided to share my birthday with me...but this comes in a close second.

Luke got underwear for his birthday.  He wasn't over the moon about them.  He looked at them, looked at me, and then moved on to the next present.  Not the reaction I was hoping for...but I wasn't surprised either.  

Luke does things on his terms.  He took his time learning how to crawl.  I was afraid the kid would be still be crawling into nursery at 18 months.  When he finally decided to walk - at 17 1/2 months - he just stood up and walked and never looked back.  At the time we thought it was because of his giant head/balance issues.  And I am sure that had a lot to do with it.  But as we have gotten to know this guy, a big part of it, is it's just who he is.  He takes it easy, and adapts to change way better than any of the other kids.  And when he's ready to make a change, he does without hesitation.  He just takes his time to make up his mind.

Enter the dreaded idea of potty training.  

Of all things baby/toddler, this is my least favorite thing.  I would rather get up for night-time feedings, deal with dirty diapers, runny noses, and temper-tantrums.  I swear, potty training trains me more than the kid.  I have to learn where every bathroom is at in every store.  I have to remember to time everything around feeding/pooping schedules.  And then all the planning in the world only makes a difference about half of the time.

Trace and I discussed when we thought was going to be the best time to get Luke out of diapers.  We decided Christmas break would be the most convenient.  

It was not convenient for Luke.

Then with everything happening to me with the pregnancy, we assumed this kid would still be in diapers long after Giles baby #5 makes her debut.

After dinner, Superbowl, and birthday festivities had wound down - we started the post-game clean-up.  We asked Luke to put his new birthday things away.  And something clicked.  It probably had more to do with him stalling the inevitable bedtime, but when he saw the Buzz undies, he insisted on wearing them.  I took the mean-mama hard-line and told him he couldn't wear them unless he used the potty.  I was tired, and my reasoning may have been a little self-driven.  I simply did not want to deal with the whole potty mess.  There was the logistics of being on bed rest.  It was too late at night.  I was not into playing games.  

It. Was. Bedtime.

Well, Luke had his own idea.  He looked at me, then looked at his underoos.  Without a second thought, he dropped his pants, took off his diaper, climbed up on the toilet, and did his business.  Both kinds.

What the what?!?  Who does that?

Hannah comes running out of the bathroom giving me a play by play of what was unfolding, including the words: "He's squirting mom, he's SQUIRTING!!!"

And that was that.

He's been in undies ever since.

He's dry at night and makes it through his nap times.

I am in disbelief on how easy it has been.  Not that I am complaining.  I'll take it.

Thank you Luke!

Happy Valentine's Trace!

I fell in love with this the first time I saw it.  What a fun idea.  I knew I wanted to make it for Trace...but I wasn't sure about the template that was used.  It seems a little too fru-fru for him.  I have seen others examples all over the Internet.  I decided that if others could come up with their own design, so could I.  The question was, did I have the patience?  I tend to want things perfect.  And perfect takes too much time.  But I gave it a go...

is-is-last-ohttp://www.papervinenz.com/2011/02/hi-everyone-thf-my.html

I am so glad I did.  It took way less time than I thought to come up with a design and fonts that I liked.  And for once, I found that simple was the best way to go.  

I intended this to be something that Trace could put on his desk at work.  You know, as a mushy reminder of me and him.  But, I didn't want it to completely scream mushy-ness.  So, again, simple was the way to go.  No need to type out L-O-V-E.  Although, I couldn't resist a heart sticker. :)

I added our picture in the front.  If I had time, I think I would have placed more pictures throughout the pack.  But, as I said earlier, I only have so much patience.  I decided that I should quit while I was ahead.

Distressing the cards wasn't too difficult.  It seemed wrong to scuff up and ink brand new playing cards.  Although, it was cathartic.

And coming up with 52 things that I loved about Trace wasn't that hard either :)

This Valentine's Day marks 14 years since we got engaged.  Imagine that.

Valentine's Day Prep

This is one of the projects we did for Super Saturday last October.  How sad is it, that I am this excited that we actually have another Valentine's Day decoration? :) Yipee!

I finally got some pictures printed up - and I think it turned out really nice.

Hannah decided to "make" her Valentine's Day cards for preschool.  Translation: Mom makes them, and Hannah adds her stamp (signature) of approval.  Once again, thank you Pinterest.  Found a free printable.  We already had glow stick bracelets left over from Halloween.  Cheap cards - yet cute!

Trent decided that he wanted to make his this year too.  These are what he decided to do.  Not too shabby.

Here is the link for the printables for both:

http://pluckymomo.blogspot.com/2013/01/12-no-candy-valentines.html

Glitter Bottles

I found this idea on Pinterest about a year ago.  I promptly pinned on the board "To Do List".  And there it has sat until now.  

Glitter bottles.  Simple.  Easy.  What I really loved is the idea behind them.  They can be used as a time out tool.  A reset button.  A take a breather kind of thing.  

Sometimes my kids just need a break.  There are days when it seems like everyone/everything is unraveling.  They don't listen.  They can't seem to stay out of trouble.  Therefore, they spend a lot of time in time out...noses against the wall...that kind of thing.  Now these bottles aren't for the actual "time out - you did something wrong" moments.  But they are for the moments that have the potential to lead up to the time outs.  For those times when I can feel the tension, or when they are fighting about every little thing, or when there just gets to be too much chaos in the house.  

I am hoping that it will give them a moment to reset.  They can play with the bottle and swirl the glitter around and hopefully benefit from it's calming effects.

We'll see.

That's what the 3 younger kidlets are getting for Valentine's Day tomorrow.

Update: 

3/2/13

The kids love these.  Especially Trent.  He will sometimes steal the other kids bottles and line them up and shake all three, over and over again.  He took his bottle in the car on a trip to Boise and watched it for the whole 45 min trip.  I consider that a great success.  

Oh - and the kids have come up with a better name: Storm Bottles.  They cause a storm and watch it settle.  Cool name :)

The picture isn't the best quality - but it shows Hannah using Luke's storm bottle to keep entertained as she finishes her breathing treatment.