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Mark's Family Tree
14 years ago
Thursday, January 20, 2011
My first phone blog!
Since my free time seems to come mostly during nights at the dance studio, and I seem to be snapping a lot of pictures on my handy-dandy iPhone, it seems to make sense that I buy a blogger app and make good use of this technology...
Doesn't it?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Doesn't it?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Looking back 9 years...the story of Jonah's birth.
After each child (except the last, of course) I sat down to put into words the events that took place during each birth. Here is the *edited* version on Jonah's birth story:
They say that every pregnancy and birth is different. I know in the general scheme of things that both my pregnancy and birth were relatively easy, but let’s just say I’m a planner - and I planned things a lot better than they actually occurred. I would have never planned to be due on the day after Christmas, that’s for sure!
At my 36 week checkup - after a couple week s of Braxton Hicks contractions were already under my belt, I experienced the most horrific new experience of a first time mom’s life - the cervical check. Now, it’s not just that you are butt-naked, legs in the air, it’s the feeling around that’s not so much fun. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor snapped off her glove and announced knowingly “you are 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced. You may not make it full term!!”
What? All my plans may work out? I had decided that my daughter would be born on December 12th at 38 weeks and I would have a short period of time to adjust to motherhood and get my figure back before I attended all the Christmas parties I wanted, precious new baby in tow. (Insert maniacal laughter here)
For the next 4 weeks I was lied to in much the same manner. “You will have this baby any day now.” I began to loathe those words. And even more - I hated those exams - now they included a new surprise - stripping membranes. Every appointment I became more uncomfortable, and at every appointment I was promised they would schedule my induction. Lies, all horrible, evil, lies!
I’ll never forget my elation on Christmas day. My contractions were about 6 minutes apart and Dh and I decided to walk, walk, walk, until they were a little closer - then we would call my OB and have a wonderful Christmas surprise. And then they stopped. For no reason at all. My body betrayed me. I was heart-broken.
My next appointment was New Year’s Eve. I was now 5 days overdue. I had been promised yet again that if I had not begun labor on my own I would be induced. My bags were packed and in the car, the carseat was installed. I was ready to have my baby. And then the disappointment yet again. No one would induce me on a holiday. NO. My induction was finally set for January 3rd. What? No tax deduction? I carried this baby most of the year and no freakin’ payout?? You have to be kidding me? Fine. Sure, you can strip my membranes again. I have no dignity left. Jason was witness to the act for the first time. He shrunk down in the corner of the office in horror. He was a shell of the man I married.
We proceeded home to let everyone know that finally, we would have a baby. Not in the year we expected, but it would at long last happen. I sat on the couch and the most incredibly strange feeling occurred. I knew I had to get to the bathroom immediately. I went into the bathroom just outside the kitchen where Jason was getting dinner together and whoosh! No less than 3 gallons of fluid poured out of me into the toilet bowl. Jason ran to the bathroom door yelling “what was that?” I knew immediately “My water broke!”
I cleaned myself up and walked into the kitchen where Jason was laughing at me. I felt like I had a grapefruit in my crotch, and that’s just how I was walking. I began to laugh, too, only, to my surprise, water ran down my legs. Which made both of us laugh even harder and water just kept pouring out. I laughed and leaked until my first contraction. My first REAL contraction. And then reality set in. I was in labor - we would have a baby very soon. At least that’s what I thought.
Twelve minutes later, the next contraction came. And then another in 6, then 5, then 5, then 4. This must be it. Jason had already called the doctor and she told us to go straight to the hospital. It was only 5 minutes from our house. My water broke at 4:30 and somehow it took me until 6:30 to get there. Having to change an overnight maxi pad a dozen times and waiting for Jason to “waterproof” the front seat of the car didn’t help.
We walked up to the door of the L&D and buzzed the desk. A nurse came back asking who we were. “My name is Lisa, my water broke and my doctor told me to...” Oh, we have your room ready, come on in.
Excuse me? You have my room ready? No, that’s not how the lady on the tour told us it would happen. First I go to that room and you make sure I’m really in labor and then I get a room. You’re doing it wrong!! I broke down in tears saying “no, I’m not ready for a real room yet!”
I got a hug from the nurse and she showed me to my room. I was shaking. This was not according to plan!
They asked if I wanted the epidural yet. No, no epidural, thanks. I’m going natural. Laughter. Screaming from next door. The nurse explained that the woman in the next room was going natural, too. There’s that panicky feeling again...
So they got in an IV and that blasted cervical check. But I had to be a good 4 or 5 cm by now. Nothing could hurt this bad and be ineffective, right? “You’re 70% effaced and 2 cm.” Son of a gun!!
So we tried walking again. Soon to find out the entire population of northeast Florida had been alerted of my impending delivery and was in the waiting room. I was expected to make an appearance. Leaking fluid down my leg, in a backless gown and hospital issued grippy socks. Sure, let’s go for it! So I walk out and there are my friends, family, and my pastor. I stood next to the pastor’s chair and just then the mother of all contractions hits. I squat right next to him and am holding on for dear life to the arm of the chair grunting. I will never look at him the same again. I think to myself "I’m going back to walk the floors of the L&D again." At least there, I am with my own kind. Not you people with your coffee and donuts and well proportioned waistlines.
My back is really starting to bother me now, not that it wasn’t bad before, but I almost can’t breathe. Jason suggested a shower. He put on his swim trunks and joined me in the stall. He rubbed my back and kept the warm water on my back. It worked for a while. But I couldn’t sit there much longer. I had to move.
Once we got dried off and I was back in my huge pad and backless gown, they put me in the bed on monitors and checked me again. It was almost midnight. Almost a new year. I was ready to hear it was time to push...and...2 cm. Impossible. And who is that man pacing outside.
It was the angel of mercy - the anesthesiologist. But, no. I was not giving in. I would have this baby naturally. For no reason other than that I was told I wouldn’t make it. This was a matter of pride. I would regain some of my dignity!!
I walked a little more after they removed the monitors. And then my doctor said the unthinkable. Pitocin. What terror lurks in that tiny bottle I would have never guessed. I caved. And my body soon felt as though it were ripping in half.
Where was that pusher with my drugs - and how much could I have??
A dose of stadol and a needle in the back later, and I was fast asleep. I don’t even remember what happened. I awoke around 6 AM to another cervical check. Ah. I was ready to hear the bad news. But...I was now fully dilated and effaced. It was time to push the baby down.
I turned to see my husband laying on the couch asleep. “GET UP” I yelled. “It’s time!”
Now here’s where things get fuzzy. For some reason Jason decides not to plug in the video camera and just to set it on the tripod and let it tape my mother’s backside for 5 minutes before the battery gave out. She did move just long enough to get one unsightly shot of me on my side pushing. I looked like death. Yet, I cannot bring myself to destroy the tape.
After 2 hours of pushing, I am informed there is a woman in the next room at the same stage of labor I am in, and the first baby of the new year has yet to be born. What? Is that a challenge??
I am suddenly transformed into a pushing machine. I have Jason, 3 nurses and my doctor cheering me on. And finally, at 8:20 AM, January 1st, 2002, I win. My little girl is born with apgar scores of 9 and 10. I was able to pull her out and up to my chest. She was beautiful.
A nurse asks if we want a picture because somehow, my mother and mother in law have managed to leave the room in the 2 hours of pushing and miss the birth. They went for coffee. Amazing. The nurse grabs the camera off the table and clicks some pictures. Not the $350 camera purchased specifically for this occasion, mind you, but the mini polaroid camera someone left in the room. Son of a... Can I not have one decent picture or video of this? And worse yet, she stands at the foot of the bed and manages to capture a picture of the new family - and my crotch. I how have a microscopic picture of my new daughter’s head framed by the unspeakable.
They take my baby, clean her up and put her on the scale - just as my mother walks in and screams “it’s a baby” Apparently she expected a puppy? 7 ½ lbs, 20 1/4 inches long is the report.
They hand her back to me and she immediately latches on to eat. She’s a natural. And hungry.
Two days after her birth, and many visitors later, we left the hospital to begin our new lives as a family.
They say that every pregnancy and birth is different. I know in the general scheme of things that both my pregnancy and birth were relatively easy, but let’s just say I’m a planner - and I planned things a lot better than they actually occurred. I would have never planned to be due on the day after Christmas, that’s for sure!
At my 36 week checkup - after a couple week s of Braxton Hicks contractions were already under my belt, I experienced the most horrific new experience of a first time mom’s life - the cervical check. Now, it’s not just that you are butt-naked, legs in the air, it’s the feeling around that’s not so much fun. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor snapped off her glove and announced knowingly “you are 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced. You may not make it full term!!”
What? All my plans may work out? I had decided that my daughter would be born on December 12th at 38 weeks and I would have a short period of time to adjust to motherhood and get my figure back before I attended all the Christmas parties I wanted, precious new baby in tow. (Insert maniacal laughter here)
For the next 4 weeks I was lied to in much the same manner. “You will have this baby any day now.” I began to loathe those words. And even more - I hated those exams - now they included a new surprise - stripping membranes. Every appointment I became more uncomfortable, and at every appointment I was promised they would schedule my induction. Lies, all horrible, evil, lies!
I’ll never forget my elation on Christmas day. My contractions were about 6 minutes apart and Dh and I decided to walk, walk, walk, until they were a little closer - then we would call my OB and have a wonderful Christmas surprise. And then they stopped. For no reason at all. My body betrayed me. I was heart-broken.
My next appointment was New Year’s Eve. I was now 5 days overdue. I had been promised yet again that if I had not begun labor on my own I would be induced. My bags were packed and in the car, the carseat was installed. I was ready to have my baby. And then the disappointment yet again. No one would induce me on a holiday. NO. My induction was finally set for January 3rd. What? No tax deduction? I carried this baby most of the year and no freakin’ payout?? You have to be kidding me? Fine. Sure, you can strip my membranes again. I have no dignity left. Jason was witness to the act for the first time. He shrunk down in the corner of the office in horror. He was a shell of the man I married.
We proceeded home to let everyone know that finally, we would have a baby. Not in the year we expected, but it would at long last happen. I sat on the couch and the most incredibly strange feeling occurred. I knew I had to get to the bathroom immediately. I went into the bathroom just outside the kitchen where Jason was getting dinner together and whoosh! No less than 3 gallons of fluid poured out of me into the toilet bowl. Jason ran to the bathroom door yelling “what was that?” I knew immediately “My water broke!”
I cleaned myself up and walked into the kitchen where Jason was laughing at me. I felt like I had a grapefruit in my crotch, and that’s just how I was walking. I began to laugh, too, only, to my surprise, water ran down my legs. Which made both of us laugh even harder and water just kept pouring out. I laughed and leaked until my first contraction. My first REAL contraction. And then reality set in. I was in labor - we would have a baby very soon. At least that’s what I thought.
Twelve minutes later, the next contraction came. And then another in 6, then 5, then 5, then 4. This must be it. Jason had already called the doctor and she told us to go straight to the hospital. It was only 5 minutes from our house. My water broke at 4:30 and somehow it took me until 6:30 to get there. Having to change an overnight maxi pad a dozen times and waiting for Jason to “waterproof” the front seat of the car didn’t help.
We walked up to the door of the L&D and buzzed the desk. A nurse came back asking who we were. “My name is Lisa, my water broke and my doctor told me to...” Oh, we have your room ready, come on in.
Excuse me? You have my room ready? No, that’s not how the lady on the tour told us it would happen. First I go to that room and you make sure I’m really in labor and then I get a room. You’re doing it wrong!! I broke down in tears saying “no, I’m not ready for a real room yet!”
I got a hug from the nurse and she showed me to my room. I was shaking. This was not according to plan!
They asked if I wanted the epidural yet. No, no epidural, thanks. I’m going natural. Laughter. Screaming from next door. The nurse explained that the woman in the next room was going natural, too. There’s that panicky feeling again...
So they got in an IV and that blasted cervical check. But I had to be a good 4 or 5 cm by now. Nothing could hurt this bad and be ineffective, right? “You’re 70% effaced and 2 cm.” Son of a gun!!
So we tried walking again. Soon to find out the entire population of northeast Florida had been alerted of my impending delivery and was in the waiting room. I was expected to make an appearance. Leaking fluid down my leg, in a backless gown and hospital issued grippy socks. Sure, let’s go for it! So I walk out and there are my friends, family, and my pastor. I stood next to the pastor’s chair and just then the mother of all contractions hits. I squat right next to him and am holding on for dear life to the arm of the chair grunting. I will never look at him the same again. I think to myself "I’m going back to walk the floors of the L&D again." At least there, I am with my own kind. Not you people with your coffee and donuts and well proportioned waistlines.
My back is really starting to bother me now, not that it wasn’t bad before, but I almost can’t breathe. Jason suggested a shower. He put on his swim trunks and joined me in the stall. He rubbed my back and kept the warm water on my back. It worked for a while. But I couldn’t sit there much longer. I had to move.
Once we got dried off and I was back in my huge pad and backless gown, they put me in the bed on monitors and checked me again. It was almost midnight. Almost a new year. I was ready to hear it was time to push...and...2 cm. Impossible. And who is that man pacing outside.
It was the angel of mercy - the anesthesiologist. But, no. I was not giving in. I would have this baby naturally. For no reason other than that I was told I wouldn’t make it. This was a matter of pride. I would regain some of my dignity!!
I walked a little more after they removed the monitors. And then my doctor said the unthinkable. Pitocin. What terror lurks in that tiny bottle I would have never guessed. I caved. And my body soon felt as though it were ripping in half.
Where was that pusher with my drugs - and how much could I have??
A dose of stadol and a needle in the back later, and I was fast asleep. I don’t even remember what happened. I awoke around 6 AM to another cervical check. Ah. I was ready to hear the bad news. But...I was now fully dilated and effaced. It was time to push the baby down.
I turned to see my husband laying on the couch asleep. “GET UP” I yelled. “It’s time!”
Now here’s where things get fuzzy. For some reason Jason decides not to plug in the video camera and just to set it on the tripod and let it tape my mother’s backside for 5 minutes before the battery gave out. She did move just long enough to get one unsightly shot of me on my side pushing. I looked like death. Yet, I cannot bring myself to destroy the tape.
After 2 hours of pushing, I am informed there is a woman in the next room at the same stage of labor I am in, and the first baby of the new year has yet to be born. What? Is that a challenge??
I am suddenly transformed into a pushing machine. I have Jason, 3 nurses and my doctor cheering me on. And finally, at 8:20 AM, January 1st, 2002, I win. My little girl is born with apgar scores of 9 and 10. I was able to pull her out and up to my chest. She was beautiful.
A nurse asks if we want a picture because somehow, my mother and mother in law have managed to leave the room in the 2 hours of pushing and miss the birth. They went for coffee. Amazing. The nurse grabs the camera off the table and clicks some pictures. Not the $350 camera purchased specifically for this occasion, mind you, but the mini polaroid camera someone left in the room. Son of a... Can I not have one decent picture or video of this? And worse yet, she stands at the foot of the bed and manages to capture a picture of the new family - and my crotch. I how have a microscopic picture of my new daughter’s head framed by the unspeakable.
They take my baby, clean her up and put her on the scale - just as my mother walks in and screams “it’s a baby” Apparently she expected a puppy? 7 ½ lbs, 20 1/4 inches long is the report.
They hand her back to me and she immediately latches on to eat. She’s a natural. And hungry.
Two days after her birth, and many visitors later, we left the hospital to begin our new lives as a family.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Cards From Holidays Past...
I was just about to start designing this year's Christmas card and got a little nostalgic. Looking back at some past Christmas photos, I can't believe how much our family has grown over the last few years! Oh, and those sweet little faces...
It's always so much fun for me to design cards to share some Christmas cheer. And I'm just as excited this year, but my goodness, I just can't seem to find the time to design, print, cut and send them out...so I'm very pleased that Shutterfly has such a great selection of cards that I can use.
We used them after Jayma was born for prints and I couldn't believe how quickly and inexpensively we were able to get great prints of our whole family. So now I'm hooked. I am working on a photo book for 2010 and am looking forward to making one each year. And what better way to make invitations and thank-you cards for Jayma's first birthday, than to use her cute picture? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. And then I had an idea to have a mug made for each of the girls...complete with their own picture on it. No more mixing up hot chocolate mugs now!
So this year we had pictures taken by Julie Paisley Photography, and with the help of Shutterfly and a super cute design, This year's card is going to be better than ever...of course...you will just have to wait and see how great.
Oh, alright...I'll give you a little taste...
Our first 'photo card' photo. Can you believe I was almost 4 months pregnant with Josie in this picture?
What a lucky shot. I had posed them all over town in dresses and finally decided this was the one. Such precious little ladies!
I really had fun with this one...ok, a little cheesy, but just look at them!
It's always so much fun for me to design cards to share some Christmas cheer. And I'm just as excited this year, but my goodness, I just can't seem to find the time to design, print, cut and send them out...so I'm very pleased that Shutterfly has such a great selection of cards that I can use.
We used them after Jayma was born for prints and I couldn't believe how quickly and inexpensively we were able to get great prints of our whole family. So now I'm hooked. I am working on a photo book for 2010 and am looking forward to making one each year. And what better way to make invitations and thank-you cards for Jayma's first birthday, than to use her cute picture? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. And then I had an idea to have a mug made for each of the girls...complete with their own picture on it. No more mixing up hot chocolate mugs now!
So this year we had pictures taken by Julie Paisley Photography, and with the help of Shutterfly and a super cute design, This year's card is going to be better than ever...of course...you will just have to wait and see how great.
Oh, alright...I'll give you a little taste...
Friday, November 19, 2010
Playing Catch-up
So it seems that 3 children, two dogs and a baby kind of take up a lot of time. Hmph. Who would have guessed? I've really (really, really, really) been lacking in my attempts to document homeschool for posterity's sake.
I'm going to attempt to rectify that. Because I know that so many people out there in the world follow this blog daily, just waiting for what new wonderful thing I'm going to post. Millions...just waiting with baited breath for me to make their lives easier...to bestow upon them some incredible new technique in homeschooling that will bring all the pieces of their hectic lives together and then, only then, will their homes run so smoothly, so perfectly, that June Cleaver herself would be jealous.
Of course, their lives are so hectic that they don't have time to LEAVE A COMMENT.
That being said, over the next few days (or weeks, or months, or years) I will be playing catch-up, posting about projects that we've actually finished, fun days of school, and just plain chaos that we have somehow managed to trudge through and survive until bedtime just to do it all again the next day.
So all of you on the edge of your seats...yes, you two right there...stay tuned...it's about to get awesome...
I'm going to attempt to rectify that. Because I know that so many people out there in the world follow this blog daily, just waiting for what new wonderful thing I'm going to post. Millions...just waiting with baited breath for me to make their lives easier...to bestow upon them some incredible new technique in homeschooling that will bring all the pieces of their hectic lives together and then, only then, will their homes run so smoothly, so perfectly, that June Cleaver herself would be jealous.
Of course, their lives are so hectic that they don't have time to LEAVE A COMMENT.
That being said, over the next few days (or weeks, or months, or years) I will be playing catch-up, posting about projects that we've actually finished, fun days of school, and just plain chaos that we have somehow managed to trudge through and survive until bedtime just to do it all again the next day.
So all of you on the edge of your seats...yes, you two right there...stay tuned...it's about to get awesome...
Friday, November 12, 2010
I've been pushed off the "Coolness Bus"
I knew it would happen. But I was hoping for a few more years, at least until Jonah was in her teen years. But I was just slapped in the face with the reality that my children are old enough to think I'm old. I mean, I am in my mid 30's, right?
This morning Jonah turned on the TV to the Today show while I was getting Jamison down for a nap. I walked through the living room and commented as I was heading to the kitchen "Oh, that's Jon Bon Jovi, I listened to him when I was a kid."
And then the incidental insults flew. Jonah looked at me in awe, "and he's still alive? He's as old as you?"
...
This morning Jonah turned on the TV to the Today show while I was getting Jamison down for a nap. I walked through the living room and commented as I was heading to the kitchen "Oh, that's Jon Bon Jovi, I listened to him when I was a kid."
And then the incidental insults flew. Jonah looked at me in awe, "and he's still alive? He's as old as you?"
...
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Please do not be alarmed...
Our scene opens at the World of Coca-Cola in Atlanta, Georgia. Imagine happy little families strolling through the displays. They are enjoying their Saturday, milling around, discussing the inner workings of a bottling plant, laughing, trying out the interactive displays. All is serene and perfect.
Then enters my family. Mom and her girls - all four in matching outfits, all with smiles, and all with devilish little plans for destruction. The baby, Jamison, not yet able to physically act on her scheme. Jonah, old enough to know the horrific consequences of misbehaving in this setting. Josie, still strapped into the stroller, waiting for her chance. And then there is Jorja.
Oh, Jorja. Impeccably dressed, smile that can melt a heart, and a mind that could burn down a country.
Now imagine one distracted mommy, checking on the baby, talking to friends, making sure her oldest was close by.
And then the deafening noise. Decibels that could cause bleeding ears.
Everywhere.
No escape.
Why? Is the building on fire? Is this World War III?
No, no one is running, trying to save the lives of their children. No one screaming "women and children first!"
Only looks. Looks in my direction. Looks at the wall behind me. The wall where there was once an in-tact fire alarm cover. Where there is now a fire alarm lever, pulled by one Jorja Carrie.
The scene now changes. The once happy families are glaring at mom, covering their ears and walking calmly, angrily toward the doors. The perfect, happy Saturday afternoon is now fodder for stories of the cute girl who pulled the alarm and the mother who stood red-faced apologizing to everyone who walked out of the exhibit. The mom who thinks her kid is awesome for giving her something to blog about.
Then enters my family. Mom and her girls - all four in matching outfits, all with smiles, and all with devilish little plans for destruction. The baby, Jamison, not yet able to physically act on her scheme. Jonah, old enough to know the horrific consequences of misbehaving in this setting. Josie, still strapped into the stroller, waiting for her chance. And then there is Jorja.
Oh, Jorja. Impeccably dressed, smile that can melt a heart, and a mind that could burn down a country.
Now imagine one distracted mommy, checking on the baby, talking to friends, making sure her oldest was close by.
And then the deafening noise. Decibels that could cause bleeding ears.
Everywhere.
No escape.
Why? Is the building on fire? Is this World War III?
No, no one is running, trying to save the lives of their children. No one screaming "women and children first!"
Only looks. Looks in my direction. Looks at the wall behind me. The wall where there was once an in-tact fire alarm cover. Where there is now a fire alarm lever, pulled by one Jorja Carrie.
The scene now changes. The once happy families are glaring at mom, covering their ears and walking calmly, angrily toward the doors. The perfect, happy Saturday afternoon is now fodder for stories of the cute girl who pulled the alarm and the mother who stood red-faced apologizing to everyone who walked out of the exhibit. The mom who thinks her kid is awesome for giving her something to blog about.
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