The kids got to take in the county fair while we were "back home," which was a real treat seeing as all three of them are reaaaaaaaally into All Things Cute And Fluffy.
Like Archie the Cat, for instance:
And bunnies:
And ponies, after Little Miss Suz got over her fear of the beasts:
And thanks to Grandma, the kids even got to ride a couple of rides, which is a lot more fun than simply looking at them, which is all they get to do when Ma and Pa Cheapskate are in charge of the fun ("fun"):
The other nice thing about going to the county fair is that we got to see Everyone We've Ever Known, all the while smelling a mixture of pig poo and funnel cakes. Win with a side of win!
While I was visiting my folks in Ohio, I took the kids to see my old grade school. It doesn't happen to be a school anymore, mind you, seeing as eighteen gazillion years have gone by since I was a kid. Fortunately, it still has most of the same (though now rusty, and likely unsafe, which is a code word for "fun") playground equipment that was around way back when.
Late this summer, Campers learned how to make his way across the monkey bars, and he got to show me his new skill at My Old Playground Where I Learned The Same Exact Thing. Bliss!
And here's the Zig swinging on my swingset, probably wondering if he'd go so high he'd fling himself around the top bar:
The kids liked the tornado slide, I mean, WHO WOULDN'T, but I let Little Miss Spazzy Pants climb the Rather Unsafe Ladder just once. Once. My blood pressure couldn't take any more than that.
While we were out at the "school," my Dad took the kids on a tour of the fire station, which used to be the bus barn, for those looking for a little regional history. I realize that might be none of you, but still. Did I mention my school is no longer a school and that I am old with a side of old? Why yes, I believe I did. Anyhoo, Zig tried on Grandpa's fire helmet while we were taking a tour the "school." Good times.
So the quick story is: I was pregnant. And now I am not.
-------------------------
I know!
And now for the long version. For the three of you still reading.
Yes. Imagine our surprise. A fourth child. That would come forth from the womb.
We had always wanted a fourth child, and for those who've followed our story, have spent the last three years attempting to adopt from Taiwan. And then from Oregon. And then after much work and expense, we decided to shut all that down and shout from the rooftops that we were DONE DONE DONE and henceforth gave away nearly every single last baby item that we could.
Rookie mistake.
So. Once Pa and I got past the shock (and the shock, it was palpable), we finally moved on to acceptance--and dare I say it--excitement. Well, as excited as we get. You know. "Excited."
And because my body knows only one way to do pregnancy--the hibernation way--I outgrew my fat regular clothes at four weeks. FOUR WEEKS. When the child was the size of a pea. A PEA!
We had held off telling the kids, well, most people really, until my nine-week appointment when I'd go to hear the heartbeat. Which at this point you've likely guessed--there was none. Wasn't really anything there to have a heartbeat, actually.
My midwife, who was spectacular (I might add), sent me off for this ultrasound and that ultrasound and this test and that test and all points led to the same conclusion: no child. My body just hadn't got the message yet and was still acting (and looking, my word) pregnant.
Knowing that we were heading into a holiday weekend, and that I'd be getting on a plane in a week to travel 'home' for a while--I knew my only option was to schedule a D&C. So that's how it went. This past Friday I had the surgery and have spent the rest of the weekend "laboring" to get my body de-pregnant. Which I am told will take two weeks. So you know, good times.
The happy news is that I got to entertain the nurses, anesthesiologists, doctors, and surgeons all along the way. If there's one thing I do well under stress, it's make people laugh. So that was oddly rewarding. And the other happy news is that I had friends who took good care of my kids at the last minute, day after day, while I buzzed in and out of my appointments.
For those concerned about our loss, I can assure you that this miscarriage was far less devastating than the first. It was still a loss, and one that will take a while to process, but we are doing well. And feeling particularly grateful for our health and the three kids we already have, who, I might mention, were superstars in taking care of me and have been helpful and kind through the whole roller coaster ride this has been.
(I decided to close comments on this post but if you want to e-mail me, you can.)
And that is all the news that is fit to print, this here Labor Day Weekend 2010.
Okay, so it's been hooply-pooply-crazy around our homestead lately. But now that we have a place to live--besides the rescue mission--I figure it's time for me to update y'all on the whole scenario. So take a seat and pull out your boredom blockers--yer gonna need 'em.
Why We're Moving
We adore our current house, our current neighbors, and our current neighborhood. So why move? Well, our dear duplex-mates co-own the house with their (his) parents, who recently retired from the mission field and plan to move "home." We've known since we moved in that this was the situation, but in the meantime, their house has been a great place for us to land. Did I mention they are people of the fabulous sort? Yes. Yes they are.
Finding Another House
I've been searching the craigslist ads for a good six months or so now. I mean, if that isn't a barrel of fun, I don't know what is. As April approached, we heard of a friend of a friend who was moving out of the area, but wanted to rent out her house for a few years. We jumped at the chance and got everything ready for the move (which was scheduled for May 1). Long story short, the owners (very kind, gracious people, I might add) got their house ready to sell in record time, and decided to go that route instead. We could have still lived there, but took the risk of having to move shortly after moving in. So, we hit a big "undo" button on that plan, and went back on the search.
At that point, we had just one month to find a different place to live. I'm guessing that in two weeks' time, we called on over twenty options, and dragged the kids through many of those homes. No doubt what the kids will remember most about those tours is the little "speech" Pa and I would give them in the van right before going in. No talking, no running, no questions, no commentary, the end. They've rode the emotional roller coaster right along with us--thinking that each house "might be the one!" only to be disappointed, say, twenty or so times.
As a side note, it's been an educational experience figuring out the types of things Pa and I look for in a house. And by "educational" I mean, "relationally stretching."
Just when we were hours away from choosing among three "it'll do" kinds of houses, the same friend who told us about the first house told us about another house she knew that just came available. And that house is where we have chosen to live.
Our New House
Our new place is situated about ten minutes north of where we live. Still in the heart of the city, which makes me happy. I like being close to the action where the kids have access to many opportunities and where the diversity is the highest.
The thing that makes me so happy about the house is that it suits us. I couldn't have designed anything better than what it is. It's old enough to have charm, and big enough for us to live in. As someone who is home nearly 24/7, I value having a place that is "livable." The house has a basement (which is highly unusual around here) that is finished and four (four!) bedrooms, one which we'll use as an office. And two bathrooms, THANK YOU JESUS.
What also tickles my fancy is that the house has a backyard (a back! yard!), which we've not had for the past three years. (We currently live in the front half of a duplex.) The kids are super-excited about that, and I am without a doubt looking forward to throwing open the welcome mat and giving the neighbors a place to kick back and relax.
The owner has told us that he eventually wants to sell the house. What makes this scenario (versus the first one) different for us is that a) we like the house enough to buy it, b) we have a chance to "test-drive" the house first to see if we like it, and c) we have a year or so to come up with a (hefty) down-payment. Which we will find buried in the backyard, of that I am certain.
When We Are Moving
We have rented a truck for this Saturday, so all our junk will be hauled across the city then. Meanwhile, I'm cleaning our current house, and when I get bored of that, I clean some more. Good times. Oh, and I squeak a little of Campers' school in--but we are nearly done and will be off for the summer soon. (Ziggy has been done for a week now.)
I'll get an address sent out to immediate family soon, but for those who like to keep their address books updated, please feel free to shoot me an e-mail and I'll give you our new address too.
And Now A Short Word From Our Sponsor
You know, I'm not one to use a bunch of God-speak (being careful to not put words in his mouth), but through the whole (stressful) process I kept hearing "wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...." and being a person of faith for a loooong time now, I knew, knew our house wouldn't come through until the last minute. That didn't stop me from shouting this and this from the breakfast table, but surely God is over that by now. Many of you have prayed so faithfully for us, and for that I say "thank you." And I also say, "come help us move visit."
During part of our tour, we stopped by to see the Such And Such Room, where one man sits and watches a wall of televisions THE ENTIRE SHIFT.
Pa was all like, "dream job."
I believe his job was to watch multiple TVs, one showing the station as it appears on cable, one showing antenna, one showing digital blah blah blah, and so forth. His role was to solve any television-showing crises as they appeared.
Riveting.
(I, of course, took the opportunity to ask the kind man about his Lion King on Broadway hat.)
(Always sticking closely to the topic at hand.)
I wanted to show you another picture of the kids hanging out in the studio after the show:
That's the Suz, LAUGHING. I have no idea what she and the grandparents were up to while away from the show, but I am certain it was OF NO GOOD.
Speaking of clowning around, Pa took his (pretend) turn at the weather spot:
As some of you know, I do a little writing on the side for KATU, our local ABC affiliate station. One of the perks of that role is that our family was able to tour the station at a time that was convenient for us.
That time happened to be when my folks were around, because nothing says "need a 1:1 adult:child" ratio like touring a television station. WHICH HAPPENED TO INCLUDE WATCHING A LIVE BROADCAST OF THE EVENING NEWS.
Here we are in the news room, where I informed the Pa that some workplaces really can be crazier than cubicleland:
You can't tell by looking at that picture, but I can assure you there was background noise. There was a room full of people getting ready for this, the 6:00 news:
Fortunately, Grandpa and Grandma "volunteered" to help watch the Suz (and eventually Zig) while the quieter members of the family saw the show.
Campers and Pa were mesmerized, what with all the fancy lights and cameras and I was just happy for a break from the two-year-old and her action.
Here we are after the live broadcast was over:
Campers' favorite part was the green screen. *My* favorite part was watching him figure out the whole green screen thing.
Our weather guy was particularly engaging to watch, which made it just that much more fun. Course, you have to figure, it takes a pretty fun person to talk excitedly about rain 362 days out of the year.
My folks came out for a short visit a few weeks back. Campers did his Murphy's Law Duty by getting sick with the ralphs while they were here. Good times! But he eventually got better, and so we headed off to Grandpa and Grandma's hotel for pool and some pizza.
Here the troops are, thinking they've hit the jackpot that they got to eat PIZZA in a HOTEL:
And I put this next picture in for humility reasons only:
It was Domino's pizza, by the way.
To keep the Suz from spinning like a tornado all 'round the room while we ate, Grandpa rigged up a seat just for her:
Necessity is the grandfather of invention, I always say.
After all, it makes perfect sense. Thailand is kinda like China, right? They're on the same continent, right? RIGHT?
Anyway, I happen to luuuurrrve Thai food and there's this great little shack just down the street. So that's where we started our weekend adventure.
A weekend which happened to be nearly a month ago, but who's keeping track?
MY MOTHER, for starters.
Anyway.
Let's see. The girls are all growing up (really?!) and talking where we can all understand them. They're not yet talking to one another--at least not much. They'll point and say names; that's about the depth of their conversations. But I have no doubt that over the next year or two, that will change quite a bit and they will be fast friends. And now let's all say together, "FIFTY KINDS OF CUTE."
Pa made a calendar for himself this year, and this is one of the pages he included:
He actually wanted to have a calendar for his cloth-lined cubicle wall at work. You see, he has the unique advantage of leaving the house five full days a week, giving him the experience of "absence making the heart grow fonder."
Just sayin'.
The photos in that collage are all from 2008. This is the end of the series. Guess there are only three months in 2009. It will probably feel like that anyway.
(If you'd like to relive the experience, read most of the posts from September 2008.)
Too bad I didn't buy a copy of the calendar for myself. I suppose I figured, why would I want to look at a picture of my kids when I can see the real thing every. hour. of. every. day?
I'll take the calendar with the soothing images of nature, thankyouverymuch.
For the person who asked in the last post -- these collages were created in Picasa. Picasa is a super-easy program to use, but I'm telling you. That Pa has a few genes in his pool that the rest of us (namely: ME) don't have. I could spend 87 years fiddling around with a camera and photo-editing program and my efforts would still look like trash.
I just tell the Pa: "You take the pictures, I'll write the snark."
I spent the day taking three kids to the pediatrician, all for a simple well-child check for our next adoption. If that wasn't exhausting enough (Hello! Three kids, a Ma, a nurse and a doctor all in a room the size of a chair!), we found out that all three kids needed to be caught up with their shots.
Ugh.
That went over like a lead balloon, especially since I had promised, sing-songedly, happy-faced promised the boys that There Would Be No Shots Just Some Basic Weighing And Measuring.
LIAR.
TRAITOR.
Sister Suz needed just one shot, but by the amount of howling, you'd think she'd received 820.
Cam got a needle in each arm, and it will take him about 376 years to trust me again.
Little Zig, SHOCK SHOCK SHOCK, needed FIVE vaccinations to catch up, and even though the thought horrified me, I didn't have the backbone to ask if those could be spread out a bit.
SELF-LOATHING ALERT.
And please don't add to my misery by telling me scary vaccination stories. I'm guilting myself well enough on my own.
It's a family trait, RIGHT MOM?
So the nurse brought out all the needles (EIGHT!) on a kid's plate, because we all know that a happy shiny plate helps the medicine go down.
Zig got three needles in his legs and one in each arm. I think I cried more than he did.
OH, MOTHERHOOD, YOU SLAY ME.
So.
On that note, we're just going to take a walk down memory lane and take a little look-see at some oldies but some goodies.
Firstly. WHO is this couple with all the hair, and who's that cute babe on the lap?
That was our Christmas card picture, circa 2001. Back in the day where we had time for such things. Back when we had just one child and he was not moving. And not talking. Not sleeping through the night, either, but Let's Not Bring That Up.
And because I Am The Queen Of All Things Rambling, I feel it necessary to say that Camper's head in that picture was taken from another shot. It always bugs me to look at that photoshopped image. But alas, PA.
Next.
If I could go back in time, THIS era would be top on the list:
I'm telling you. Every ("every!") family needs a Zig. A sweet, sweet soul at rest who says to me that he "loves me to the moon and back."
Every ("every!") family also needs a Campers, the first-born who is all things curious and responsible and always willing to Talk Like An Adult.
And as some friends were telling me the other day, one thing our family was missing was this:
The people-lovin' party queen.
That's Suz's referral picture.
It's like, WE SHOULD HAVE SEEN IT COMING.
So anyway.
Three kids, one Ma, and a whole lotta love. Even on the days when it looks like eight shots and a truckload of guilt.
One year ago today, we stepped on a couple of these:
(Planes! We stepped on a couple of planes! Not the kids!)
We flew the Oregon Trail. Of course, it was still a long and miserable trip, as only six hours in the air with a 5, 3, and 1-year-old could be.
And then a couple of days later--our junk caught up with us and That Was That.
We were in a new home in a new place.
This is where I remind myself that I Swore Up And Down I would never live in a city. Kinda like I said I'd never have more than two kids and I'd never stay home with said kids and I'd never give my kids sugar and I'd never go to Africa So Help Me God.
I happen to love my city, I've got three kids, I never leave home, I use and abuse my good friend "Sugar," and am keeping my eyes open for an opportunity to go to Africa.
My friend brought the boys a gift while she was here:
Yes, the Talking Optimus Prime Helmet.
Funnier on Grandpa:
And you know who likes it best?
The Suz.
She can barely keep her head upright with the voice-activated helmet on, but she loves to sing and say "hello, hello, hello, hello, hello," transforming her cute munchkin voice into Baby Optimus Prime.
Because there was fun to be had and beauty to be seen, we dragged the Ma and Pa Senior up to see another waterfall. The same day. Right after the infamous "Lilly Falls."
Our mercies? Are new every millennium.
But look! She's standing! That counts, right?
Wahkeena Falls isn't too far from Multnomah Falls, and it has a great place for the kids to freak their ever-loving mother out get close to the water.
Pa Senior assured me he had Full Control of the situation.
You know how I love to give up control.
Amazing, they all stayed dry and had fun and went on to climb up another hill.
"Oh! Hey everybody!"
I had a Death Grip on the girl up this hill too. By the time we were done, Pa had to unclasp my vice-like grip from the Suz.
Bless her heart, she is a woman full of adventure.
And so is her Ma, who dragged everyone up the hill, and Ma Senior, who chose to fall down one.
While the Ma and Pa Senior were here, we dragged them up to see Multnomah Falls. When I rounded the corner and first saw the falls, I gasped from the beauty of it all.
Speaking of gasping, the Seniors stopped to take a break up the hill. They muttered something about "picture" and "grandkids" or some nonsense like that.
Obviously there was no lack of fun. Don't let the Campers fool ya with his stoic expression. His excitement was on the inside. Or maybe he simply had a reasonable fear of sitting on the edge of a tall precipice.
Speaking of excitement, I dragged Little Miss Suz up the side of the mountain with her mightily pulling away from me the whole time.
That girl wanted to run. But being a somewhat caring mother, I wouldn't allow her to roll down the side of the cliff.
And you thought I had no compassion at all.
So on the way down the mountain, my Gracious And Unselfish Mother offered to take a turn being the Human Leash. And in all the drama of caring for Little Miss Busy, Ma Senior missed a big bump in the trail and fell flat on her face (belly, arms, legs) herself.
And if you think she found any compassion in the Pa Senior, Pa, or me? Well, you mighta outta wanna say a prayer for the three of us. It don't get more crotchety than us.
"Get up! Yer blockin' the trail!"
But we did make sure her bones were intact and the oozing was contained.
And at that point, we did what we do best:
Started making jokes.
My poor mother.
We eventually renamed the falls to "Lilly Falls," which even the kids thought was a hoot. And like those great signs plastered all around Ruby Falls in Chattanooga, Tennessee, we thought we'd create a marketing scheme ourselves: "See Lilly Falls."
Ah-har, ah-har, ah-har.
Not quitting our days jobs, if you're wondering.
So the falls were lovely, especially on a summer day where it wasn't raining in the Pacific Northwest. But to compensate for the lack of moisture, the Suz and I stood right by the fall and soaked up some water:
The falls were stunning. Both of them. We gave Ma Senior a 15.625. And then we dragged her off to another waterfall. More on that later.
For Michael Phelps, life is just eat, sleep and swim. I can relate to that. I eat, sleep, and have a swimmingly good time sacked out on the couch.
It's where I do my best eating. Which with these games, is becoming an Olympic sport in itself.
The best part of having an Olympic addiction is sharing it with others. My cousin, for starters. Here he is with three very rowdy athletic supporters:
See those trendy Olympic shirts? They're straight from the Mother Land. I flew all the way to China to buy those Shirts Of Exceedingly High Quality. Did you know that when I wash them, they insist on sharing their colorful love with all that is around them?
Even after the 487th load?
Speaking of laundry-creating hooligans, here are the boys getting prepped to make their "miniature fruit pizzas:"
Are you marveling at my fruit bowls? Which represent the FIVE OLYMPIC RINGS?
And although Ziggy (4) informed me that "he didn't want any of that healthy fruit on his cookie," I had no trouble loading it up on mine:
(We interrupt this post to apologize for the "One Side Flipped Up, The Other Side Laid Flat" Hair Issue. It's got problems, okay?)
And if gorging on fruit pizza wasn't enough, here's the Suz just waiting to scald her hands on taste The Pizza Decorated With The (What Else!) Olympic Rings:
I love the Olympics. The excitement, the food, the fun. The excuse to let 439 other things slip for a few weeks every couple of years. The Great Mood I'm in from staying up too late every night.
