Life on the North Shore

So i'm driving along 200 West in Bountiful, daydreaming about Hawaii when out of the corner of my eye, i spot an old camp trailer all decked out in fine hippie style. Seriously~i thought i was hallucinating. I thought i was back on the North Shore of Oahu. Turns out, it's a Shave Ice stand... called "The North Shore." Who knew? and you can get ice cream in the bottom(i did) and sweet beans in it(i didn't) and everything.

When we first tried to go to Matsumoto's for shave ice, we unwittingly (I don't have a data plan on my smart phone... so, no map) took the Hale'iwa bypass of the Kamehameha Hwy, which takes you right on past the cute little town where Matsumoto's is. I was determined, though, so we bought a paper map and went back. This time, the boys were not too thrilled

before we went in...

but after... now, that's a different story. Mmmm! Thanks for the travel tips, Hillary!!
For a little more about Matsumoto's, click here.

A Rose by Any Name

Don't you think it's a lot of pressure to choose the name by which another human being will be known for her whole life? I mean what if you name her Margaret and she's really a Debbie? Does that ever really happen, though? I mean, have you ever met someone and thought, "She doesn't seem like a Tiffanie?" Ok, so once it happened to me. My sister was dating this guy named Ryan (i think it was Ryan) and I could only call him James ~ he just seemed like James to me. So, his parents must've named him wrong, right?
So I know that kids are mean and they will find a way to make fun of your child's name no matter how careful you are. Still, it's a huge responsibility. You have to find a name that's not so strange that people can't understand you or laugh when they hear it, but it has to be unusual enough to not be the same as every other kindergartner the year your child starts school. Which I've decided is impossible. No matter how unusual the name you choose, it's a matter of collective consciousness and your name will be in the top 10 for that year because everyone else liked it and thought it wasn't too common.
After our little one finally opened her bruised and bloodstained eyes so we could see who she was,
we got out our "short" list of 25 or so names. The problem with girls is you have a little more freedom. You can choose something cute or whimsical like Chloe or Zoe and that's great, or you can totally use a boy name like Ryan or Cameron or Tyler and no one is going to question you... ok, so I really wanted to name our baby girl Derek and I did get a little resistance from the general population on that one, but you can't do the same thing to a boy and name him a girl name... not even a name that used to belong to boys, like Leslie or Shannon. The reason this freedom is a problem is that there are so many great names to choose from and we had a hard time eliminating any of them.
We knew her middle name already, because both of our older girls are named for one of their grandmas (Megan for Darlene and Karlee for Patricia Kathleen) and we really wanted to name this one after my Mom,
whose middle name is Jeanne. Still, there are about 24 perfect names that go really well with "Jeanne." And there was always the option of using Jeanne for the first name or using my mom's first name and another middle name.
We finally agreed on the name that we think is the perfect combination of adorable and pleasant, sweet and dignified, charming and well-possessed, original but not too strange:

Lyndee Jeanne

speaking of Roses, Karlee first wanted the Name Karlee Rose, then Katie Rose, then Rosella. Landon of course, wanted Derek, then Roselle. Megan came up with a lovely name every other day or so and the big boys never changed their votes from Kara (like Clark's cousin, Kara Kent... not obsessed with superheroes over here, nope). I really liked Lavender Rose and if this says anything about me, i wanted to name her that simply because when Megan told Darlene, her response was, "that's not a name for a baby." Then when Lyndee was born, she was more violet than lavender. oh, well.
and Michael says there is a rose named Lyndee (prob'ly Lindy). Looks like I get another rose bush to prune... or not prune.

Baby Story

Anxious. Why did I feel so anxious about having this baby? Of all people I should know that I can handle pain. I've had 4 babies with no pain meds before this one. Heck, i've had my teeth drilled with no anesthetic before, so what was my problem?? Friday morning, my doctor stripped my membranes, so that kicked things up a notch and I started to have some contractions that were actually pretty uncomfortable. Then on Saturday at about 4 AM i started to have pretty regular, pretty painful contractions, and my husband had rubbed my feet with Clary Sage oil and we had tried some other methods to get things moving and so when the contractions got a little more intense and closer together (from 3 to 7 minutes), I decided it was time. After we got loaded in the car, stopped off at Inkley's to get a memory card for the camera, and then back at the house to get Mike's wallet, I only had 3 contractions on the way to the hospital. I said a little prayer, asking for help, and then asked Mike to find a nice little cliff to drive me over. No luck.
When i got here to the hospital, they hooked me up to the monitors, and checked me. I was dilated to 5 cm. and my cervix was completely soft, but not too thin. The baby was still floating, because as Dr. Voss loves to say to me, "When you've had this many babies..." there isn't really anywhere for the baby's head to engage. Everything's just kinda loose and floaty, I guess. So I'm thinking, they'll never send me home if i'm at a 5, but the resident doc comes in and says, "the partners don't want to start you this early so if you don't progress in the next hour, i guess you'll be going home to labor." Well, that actually, that sounded pretty good to me because, remember, i didn't really want to do this birth thing and a nap seemed just the right thing at that moment.
But Marilee (my doula) and Mike both insisted that I get up and at least walk around, then I went to the bathroom and after sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, and a few contractions, my water broke! aaaa!! and after one or two reeeeeallly painful contractions I got back to bed and started screaming for an epidural. The nurse said she had called the needle guy, and i said(well, yelled), "can you call him faster?" She asked, do you just want the epidural or should I check you? Well at that point, since i thought he was on his way and i was between contractions, I told her to go ahead and check me.
"You're complete!"
"What does that mean?"
"Well, when the dr. tells you to push, just take a deep breath, hold it and push as hard as you can."
"I can't do this!"
"Yes, you can."(Jinx on Marilee and the nurse).
So three contractions (9 pushes) later we have this gorgeous thing:

A Dr. from my Dr.'s practice just happened to be at the hospital delivering another baby, but he delivered mine first and then he and the nurse kneaded my stomach for 30 more minutes while I nursed my baby and let my placenta deliver itself(more details on the benefits of that later... maybe). Then the adorable nurse from the nursery gave Michael and my dad and Wade a tattoo of the baby's foot:

Next time: Does this baby have a name?

The Eyes (and Hands and Chins) Have It

The writers of one of my favorite blogs recently challenged us to take pictures of eyes that capture us. I had just that day taken these photos of my daughters eyes by which I am completely mesmerized(the eyes, not the photos).
I mean, wow! You really have to see them in person, the photos don't do them justice. I can't even figure out what color they are. what color aren't they? They are brown and gray and blue and green and gold, even lavender on some days. I could spend days (years?) just looking at these eyes.
And then I realized that the miracle of these beautiful children who amazingly enough were once within my own womb have so many fascinating parts:
!Ihandsfingers and toes
chins

Lips
noses (... well)
elbows
smiles!
and especially cheeks.
And this doesn't even include those beautiful teenage boys who constantly amaze me with their size and their glorious adolescent faces.

What I (should) have learned from dying

From all my experience with death... I mean, dye. And not hair dye. That's a different post for a different day. I'm talking about fabric. Tie-dye, RIT dye, Tulip dye, Dylon.
First, it does NOT pay to be lazy. Dye loses it's potency after the first few(20?) minutes. It probably starts to lose it immediately, so you can't mix the dye and save the left-overs for another day. If you do, you will be sorely disappointed in your results.
I had a beautiful white maternity dress that I made to wear to see Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat (starring Donny Osmond) when I was pregnant with Wade in 1996.
I put it on the other day and Landon says to me, as I fastened my Tallulahs pearls around my neck and buckled my sandals, "You getting marry?" Then I realized that I would wear the dress more often and it would make me happier for the next 3 weeks (until I have my 7th and final baby) if it were a happy fuschia instead of white. So I dug out my box of dye and pulled out two boxes of RIT "fuschia" which i mixed up in my big pan with hot water (oh, after i soaked the dress in a pan of "ash" dissolved in water). I put the dress in the water and when i started stirring, i realized that their version of fuschia was more like what i call magenta. not that magenta is bad, just that the color that Duncan brand Tulip dye is calling "tulip" is closer to what i envision as fuschia (my happy color). So i rinsed out the dress and dumped my last half a box of "tulip" in and dissolved it. Anyway, the dress turned out lovely, if not quite bright enough for my taste. I may dye it again... if i have time before little lolita is born (her name is not Lolita... it's just that Mike and i have serious naming issues and our short list is still 18 names long).
So then today, after I unpacked all my 0-3 month clothes to put in the nursery, I took my favorite receiving blanket from Landon's baby-hood in blue and brown polka-dots and wet it down (no ash... lazy), dissolved a box of RIT mauve, which i thought would mix with the blue to make a nice lavender (hah!) and dumped in the blanket ($$$)... only problem is that i didn't unfold it first (um... lazy?). I stirred it around on the stove (quick... lazy method) for about 30 minutes and then I thought, I'm just going to stick it in the sink and unfold it so I can stir it around a bit better. Well, the insides of the blanket were... still... blue, so I'm stirring and stirring and stirring, but remember what I said before about the potency of the dye?And the color variations are not because of lighting. So...off to Michael's to buy more dye... or maybe just to Sassy Babies to buy a more girly blanket for Lola (are you calling me lazy?).
Tune in next time for more about tie-dying and gestational diabetes and bows and bow boards. Because i still have 3 weeks in which to write about this stuff, right?

We Are So Awesome/Pathetic

Can you believe how many medals we have? I mean, the athletes representing the United States of America (my country) have earned a truckload of medals so far at the Olympics in Vancouver.

Our athletes are amazing... and a little pathetic. I mean, do any of them know the words to "The Star Spangled Banner"? Some of them seemed proud and honored that they were playing our national anthem.
























Evan Lysacek even put his hand over his heart, and one cute skier knew a phrase or two. Maybe they too overcome with emotion to mouth the words?
I was chastised by a friend recently for feeling that our country is the greatest country on Earth. She says it's conceited to feel that we are better than anyone else, though i don't think i necessarily feel "better" than anyone. I just think everyone should feel allegiance to and pride in their own country. I feel about The U.S. of A. how Captain Von Trapp felt about Austria... or at least how Christopher Plummer's version of him seemed to feel.
I'm just asking you to learn one verse of a not very long song, guys (and gals). Think you can you fit that in between workouts? Put it on your iPod. Listen to it in your private helicopter on the way to your very own private half-pipe.

Bed Rest

So at 26 weeks, but looking more like 36 weeks (Cherie says to me yesterday "maybe you won't get any bigger"), I really did it yesterday. After a morning of laundry and cleaning house (it was an experiment to see if i'd feel better when i was productive... more on that later. maybe), I got in the car and went to Costco... then Home Depot... and then Super Target. I was kind of wandering back and forth at the back of the Target store because i knew they had pump needles for basketballs, but i couldn't find them... nor anyone wearing a red shirt and khaki pants. I was pretty sure no one worked there. Then i saw it: a red phone. I picked it up, pressed "1" at the prompt and was promised that an associate would find me within 60 seconds. Seriously, 7 seconds later, I was "found" and then we quickly found the pump needles. Hah! just as i suspected. on the basketball aisle. Walking away from the basketballs, i thought, "my back kinda hurts... no, it's really my hips." Then pretty soon, I was having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other. By the time I realized I was having a problem, I was half-way between the red phone and the front of the store, so i just kept trudging. 20 minutes later, I'm finally at the register. Luckily with no extra treats or videos or clothes in my cart (Karlee's usually a pretty efficient shopper, but i had my eagle eyes on ).
Needless to say, my laundry didn't quite get finished and i decided that today I would take it easy. Kinda self-imposed bed rest. Before Mike left for work, he brought me half a peeled orange i had him bring me some water, my computer, a book and my journal. i had fully intended to write and read the day away but all i've been doing is surfing other people's blogs looking at pretty pictures. Fun, but not what i meant to do.
And i hope i feel better soon because wow, sitting in bed makes your bum hurt... and one can only eat so many handfuls of "the snack that smiles back" and I'm starting to get hungry. I texted Cherie and she invited me over for lunch... tempting, but then i would have to climb the stairs.

Watching TV the other night, Will says to me, "Della Street looks like Grandma Jeanne."

I can see that. Not as airbrushed and not as much eye make-up, but can you see it?