Samson is a happy baby.
Ruthe is obsessed with minions from Dispicable Me. All minions known as "Bob." She's talking more, but leaves off the first syllable of most words, and invents many of her own. some words are unmistakigly and perfectly enunciated, such as "yes" and "NO!" See translation guide below:
olo = water
oso = cereal
ik = milk
olor = i want to color a picture, give me crayons, etc.
ore = more
eese/peese = please
"ore oso peese" = more cereal please
tih = vitamin
ishy or ish-ish = fish
air = prayer
Naomi is my big girl 4 year old. Man how time flies!
Monday, May 5, 2014
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Fast and Furious: The Birth Story of Samson Alexander
Our little man made a surprising and FAST entry into the world! The short story goes something like this: I woke up shortly after 4am having contractions, before waking Brad at 4:45am. He packed the bags frantically, called friends to watch our girls, and got everything in the car by 6am when I informed him that I thought it was time to push. We sped to the nearest hospital ER, was raced to labor and delivery, and was holding my beautiful baby boy by 6:30am. yeah... it was that fast.
Many have commented on how "easy" and "nice" it must have been to have such a short labor. And if 2 1/2 hours of intense labor is "nice," then I guess they are right. I gotta admit though, I've really had to spend some quality time contemplating this birth experience to find peace. When I try to tell the story with details, I still notice my heart starts racing, my breathing becomes rapid, I feel tense and anxious. So it's taking me some time to actually want to write the story. At the same time, I'm sure doing so will help.
I'll preface this with-- baby Samson and I are both doing well. As far as all things physically concerned, we are perfectly healthy and the delivery, while exciting (?), was actually smooth and perfect. No complications.
Brad and I had been praying and trying every old wives tale we knew to encourage our little boy (who was officially due Jan 9) to come in December. The biggest reasons were so Brad would be on holiday vacation from work and could stay home for a few days to help out without using all his vacation days at the beginning of the year, Brad's mom would be on winter break (she's a teacher) and could help out, we had already met our high deductible for insurance for 2013, etc. The hospital and my OB wouldn't consider an induction for those reasons before Jan 2, and I really hate pitocin and didn't want to be medically induced anyway. I had been taking evening primrose oil and drinking mother's milk tea for a couple weeks. At my 38 week appointment (Friday. Dec 27), the OB checked me and informed me I was 3 cm and 50% effaced. This was disheartening because I was that far along with my previous 2 girls at 37 weeks, and they were born 1 day late (being induced) and 1 day early (spontaneous). I was pretty convinced my little boy would be born after his due date at this point. I may have cried on my way home from my appointment that day, but by the time I got home had prayed and felt peace about the situation. Everything would work out, even if I didn't know HOW. We went to Brad's family's that evening for his cousin's wedding reception and 10 year high school reunion and had fun.
Saturday, Dec 28 we came back home and worked on cleaning the house from Christmas and making our list of things to finish before Samson was born, and sorting baby clothes we'd received from friends. that evening we decided that I would try castor oil. I had spent HOURS researching it, asking friends, reading personal stories of those who had tried it and contemplating the pros/cons. I had decided that I wouldn't even try it if I wasn't already AT LEAST 3cm and 50% effaced (funny, that's exactly what I was...); my body had to be already preparing and ready for labor to consider taking it. And I even mentally prepared myself for what many people said castor oil does-- cleans you out. a lot. I took 1 1/2 Tbsp at 3pm on Saturday, Dec 28. And waited for my date with the bathroom... and waited... and waited. Took a relaxing bath... By 12:30am, I went to bed with nothing happening.
Sunday, Dec 29 I woke up to get ready for church and thought I was having contractions. Brad recommended I time them, even though I told him they didn't feel strong, consistant, or regular, and I had no other signs of labor starting (this may be TMI for some... no loss of mucus plug, no bloody show, no water breaking, etc.). They were coming roughly 8-6 minutes apart. So we went to church and decided that if they got closer, stronger, or I had any other signs of labor, I'd call the dr. At church, if I was up and walking contractions were every 6 minutes; if I was sitting they could vary between 12-24 minutes. And they were seriously mild. Half the time I sat there wondering if I was having a contraction, or if I just had gas. A couple were stronger and distracted me (while conducting music in Primary I'd have to stop singing but I could keep conducting... the kids didn't notice, but one of the teachers did). We went home and I tried climbing stairs for a while-- contractions got to be 4 minutes apart, and then just got tired and decided to take a nap around 4pm. When I woke up, all contractions had stopped and nothing could seem to get them started again. Brad and I knew that I'd have to go into labor by the 29th to have a December baby, and well, the day was almost over. After dinner Brad somehow had talked me into trying castor oil again... something along the lines of "it didn't do anything last time so what can it hurt" and "this is the last chance; the worst that could happen is you spend some time on the toilet and don't get a baby, which you had already psyched yourself up for anyway, so what's the difference" and "it could still work... maybe." So at 7:30pm I took 2 Tbsp castor oil and waited for another date with the bathroom. We ate some of our Christmas candy, talked, planned to start our "baby prep" list in the morning. Around midnight I took an hour-long relaxing bath with essential oils. At 1am, it seemed the castor oil decided to do it's job of cleaning out my bowels. Not terrible, not pleasant, just a fact. By 1:30am I was in bed reading and hoping for contractions/waiting to see if I needed a 2nd bathroom date. I fell asleep around 2:30am after a very uneventful hour of reading.
Monday Dec 30 I woke up shortly after 4am. Not unusual... I wake up middle of the night all the time. I felt uncomfortable so I moved around. Got uncomfortable, so I moved some more. After 8-10 minutes of tossing and turning, I get up to go to the bathroom. Come back to bed and think, "are these contractions?" (remember, I'm in a sleep fog after only 1 1/2 hours of sleep...) so i try to time them, but I'm dozing off in between and keep forgetting when I had the last one until they start getting strong and I want Brad to start applying counter pressure to my back. At 4:45am I start trying to wake up Brad to rub my back; he whines about me poking him until I tell him I'm having contractions. He quickly perks up at that point and asks how often. "I don't know... every few minutes, I guess." So he grabs pen and paper to start timing. We realize by 5am that it's every 2 minutes, and they are getting pretty strong. CRUD.
Brad frantically begins throwing together the hospital bag (it had been packed, but we unpacked it on friday for spending the night at his parents' house and planned to repack that day) and a bag for the girls to stay with friends while I had the baby. He wakes the girls while I go potty before we leaving. I notice that I finally lose the mucus plug and have "bloody show" and I think-- "hey, I really might have a baby today... this means it's real labor!" (somehow strong contractions every 2 minutes didn't clue me in??? i must have been tired!) As I stood up, my water broke. (Seriously... how lucky is that?! no mess!) By 6am, everything and the girls are in the car ready to go; I'm laying on the floor of the bedroom crying and wanting Brad with me to support me through contractions but I know he can't. He's busy trying to get us to the hospital.
Brad finds me and we start downstairs to the car, at which point I tell Brad, "I don't think we'll make it to Canton. We need to go to Alliance." He says ok. We were going to drop the girls at a friend's house, but next contraction as we are pulling out of the driveway, I announce, "I think I need to push..." Brad FLOORS the gas and we start speeding to the nearest hospital (about 1.5 miles away) and calming repeating, "don't push! we're almost there." We squeal into the ER bay; Brad runs in yelling, "My wife needs to push!" and a nurse runs out with a wheelchair and rushes me to labor & delivery. The L&D nurses are madly prepping a room as I get wheeled in and they begin reminding me, "don't push, the dr is on his way. try not to push. you're doing great. keep breathing." I started crying and wondering where Brad was and wanting to push and trying not to. I just wanted Brad by my side so badly. One of the nurses let me hold her hand and was really great... but she wasn't Brad, who was about to miss the birth of his son and I felt alone and vulnerable.
Brad runs in 5 minutes later. (After I was whisked away, he parked the car and brought the girls up with him, who were missing their shoes and it was snowing. He left them in the hallway outside my door with a nurse.) He's finally holding my hand and everything seems better, though my body is starting to push and I can't stop it anymore. The dr walks in a couple minutes later, and I'm finally encouraged to push. Samson is born 2 pushes/1 contraction later at 6:30am on Monday, December 30, 2013. He weighed 7 lbs 13 oz, and was 20 inches long. His APGAR scores were 9 both times. A perfectly healthy little boy!
We came home the next evening and I enjoyed New Years Eve snuggling with my little boy at home. :-)
Many have commented on how "easy" and "nice" it must have been to have such a short labor. And if 2 1/2 hours of intense labor is "nice," then I guess they are right. I gotta admit though, I've really had to spend some quality time contemplating this birth experience to find peace. When I try to tell the story with details, I still notice my heart starts racing, my breathing becomes rapid, I feel tense and anxious. So it's taking me some time to actually want to write the story. At the same time, I'm sure doing so will help.
I'll preface this with-- baby Samson and I are both doing well. As far as all things physically concerned, we are perfectly healthy and the delivery, while exciting (?), was actually smooth and perfect. No complications.
Brad and I had been praying and trying every old wives tale we knew to encourage our little boy (who was officially due Jan 9) to come in December. The biggest reasons were so Brad would be on holiday vacation from work and could stay home for a few days to help out without using all his vacation days at the beginning of the year, Brad's mom would be on winter break (she's a teacher) and could help out, we had already met our high deductible for insurance for 2013, etc. The hospital and my OB wouldn't consider an induction for those reasons before Jan 2, and I really hate pitocin and didn't want to be medically induced anyway. I had been taking evening primrose oil and drinking mother's milk tea for a couple weeks. At my 38 week appointment (Friday. Dec 27), the OB checked me and informed me I was 3 cm and 50% effaced. This was disheartening because I was that far along with my previous 2 girls at 37 weeks, and they were born 1 day late (being induced) and 1 day early (spontaneous). I was pretty convinced my little boy would be born after his due date at this point. I may have cried on my way home from my appointment that day, but by the time I got home had prayed and felt peace about the situation. Everything would work out, even if I didn't know HOW. We went to Brad's family's that evening for his cousin's wedding reception and 10 year high school reunion and had fun.
Saturday, Dec 28 we came back home and worked on cleaning the house from Christmas and making our list of things to finish before Samson was born, and sorting baby clothes we'd received from friends. that evening we decided that I would try castor oil. I had spent HOURS researching it, asking friends, reading personal stories of those who had tried it and contemplating the pros/cons. I had decided that I wouldn't even try it if I wasn't already AT LEAST 3cm and 50% effaced (funny, that's exactly what I was...); my body had to be already preparing and ready for labor to consider taking it. And I even mentally prepared myself for what many people said castor oil does-- cleans you out. a lot. I took 1 1/2 Tbsp at 3pm on Saturday, Dec 28. And waited for my date with the bathroom... and waited... and waited. Took a relaxing bath... By 12:30am, I went to bed with nothing happening.
Sunday, Dec 29 I woke up to get ready for church and thought I was having contractions. Brad recommended I time them, even though I told him they didn't feel strong, consistant, or regular, and I had no other signs of labor starting (this may be TMI for some... no loss of mucus plug, no bloody show, no water breaking, etc.). They were coming roughly 8-6 minutes apart. So we went to church and decided that if they got closer, stronger, or I had any other signs of labor, I'd call the dr. At church, if I was up and walking contractions were every 6 minutes; if I was sitting they could vary between 12-24 minutes. And they were seriously mild. Half the time I sat there wondering if I was having a contraction, or if I just had gas. A couple were stronger and distracted me (while conducting music in Primary I'd have to stop singing but I could keep conducting... the kids didn't notice, but one of the teachers did). We went home and I tried climbing stairs for a while-- contractions got to be 4 minutes apart, and then just got tired and decided to take a nap around 4pm. When I woke up, all contractions had stopped and nothing could seem to get them started again. Brad and I knew that I'd have to go into labor by the 29th to have a December baby, and well, the day was almost over. After dinner Brad somehow had talked me into trying castor oil again... something along the lines of "it didn't do anything last time so what can it hurt" and "this is the last chance; the worst that could happen is you spend some time on the toilet and don't get a baby, which you had already psyched yourself up for anyway, so what's the difference" and "it could still work... maybe." So at 7:30pm I took 2 Tbsp castor oil and waited for another date with the bathroom. We ate some of our Christmas candy, talked, planned to start our "baby prep" list in the morning. Around midnight I took an hour-long relaxing bath with essential oils. At 1am, it seemed the castor oil decided to do it's job of cleaning out my bowels. Not terrible, not pleasant, just a fact. By 1:30am I was in bed reading and hoping for contractions/waiting to see if I needed a 2nd bathroom date. I fell asleep around 2:30am after a very uneventful hour of reading.
Monday Dec 30 I woke up shortly after 4am. Not unusual... I wake up middle of the night all the time. I felt uncomfortable so I moved around. Got uncomfortable, so I moved some more. After 8-10 minutes of tossing and turning, I get up to go to the bathroom. Come back to bed and think, "are these contractions?" (remember, I'm in a sleep fog after only 1 1/2 hours of sleep...) so i try to time them, but I'm dozing off in between and keep forgetting when I had the last one until they start getting strong and I want Brad to start applying counter pressure to my back. At 4:45am I start trying to wake up Brad to rub my back; he whines about me poking him until I tell him I'm having contractions. He quickly perks up at that point and asks how often. "I don't know... every few minutes, I guess." So he grabs pen and paper to start timing. We realize by 5am that it's every 2 minutes, and they are getting pretty strong. CRUD.
Brad frantically begins throwing together the hospital bag (it had been packed, but we unpacked it on friday for spending the night at his parents' house and planned to repack that day) and a bag for the girls to stay with friends while I had the baby. He wakes the girls while I go potty before we leaving. I notice that I finally lose the mucus plug and have "bloody show" and I think-- "hey, I really might have a baby today... this means it's real labor!" (somehow strong contractions every 2 minutes didn't clue me in??? i must have been tired!) As I stood up, my water broke. (Seriously... how lucky is that?! no mess!) By 6am, everything and the girls are in the car ready to go; I'm laying on the floor of the bedroom crying and wanting Brad with me to support me through contractions but I know he can't. He's busy trying to get us to the hospital.
Brad finds me and we start downstairs to the car, at which point I tell Brad, "I don't think we'll make it to Canton. We need to go to Alliance." He says ok. We were going to drop the girls at a friend's house, but next contraction as we are pulling out of the driveway, I announce, "I think I need to push..." Brad FLOORS the gas and we start speeding to the nearest hospital (about 1.5 miles away) and calming repeating, "don't push! we're almost there." We squeal into the ER bay; Brad runs in yelling, "My wife needs to push!" and a nurse runs out with a wheelchair and rushes me to labor & delivery. The L&D nurses are madly prepping a room as I get wheeled in and they begin reminding me, "don't push, the dr is on his way. try not to push. you're doing great. keep breathing." I started crying and wondering where Brad was and wanting to push and trying not to. I just wanted Brad by my side so badly. One of the nurses let me hold her hand and was really great... but she wasn't Brad, who was about to miss the birth of his son and I felt alone and vulnerable.
Brad runs in 5 minutes later. (After I was whisked away, he parked the car and brought the girls up with him, who were missing their shoes and it was snowing. He left them in the hallway outside my door with a nurse.) He's finally holding my hand and everything seems better, though my body is starting to push and I can't stop it anymore. The dr walks in a couple minutes later, and I'm finally encouraged to push. Samson is born 2 pushes/1 contraction later at 6:30am on Monday, December 30, 2013. He weighed 7 lbs 13 oz, and was 20 inches long. His APGAR scores were 9 both times. A perfectly healthy little boy!
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Christmas Letter 2013
Dear family and friends,
We pray this Christmas season
finds you joyful and well. It has been a
blessed year for our family!
Brad still works for In The Round
as a web programmer. His company was
bought out, downsized, and still going through some restructuring currently;
through it all he has kept his position and enjoys what he does. His job continues to be a great blessing to
our family. He went on his first official business trip in early December as
part of the changes happening at work. He was released as the Young Men’s
President at church after serving for 2 years, and is excited to be a Family
History Technology Consultant. In his
spare time, he enjoys hanging with the guys, catching a movie, and playing
racquetball or basketball. In June, Brad embarked on writing his first piano
piece—a medley of Away in a Manger and Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, which he
performed at church in December. His next goal is to write an entirely original
piece. He’s learning how to be a
“handy-man” in various household emergencies like unclogging the flooding
garbage disposal.
 |
| From our 5 year Anniversary trip to D.C. in May 2013 |
Marie just keeps getting
busier! She started homeschooling Naomi
this year for her first year of Preschool as a “test drive year.” So far, there are some issues to work through
but it seems to be successful and home preschool year 2 is in the works. Marie
was pleasantly surprised on Mother’s Day to find out she is will a mother to a
3rd little one who is due … well, pretty much any time now. Baby boy Samson Alexander Neeley is
officially due January 9, 2014, though his family is very much praying for a
late-December arrival. In October, Marie also started working part time as a
babysitter at the local YMCA two nights per week. She enjoys working with kids and being able
to take her kids to work and earn a small bit of money. At church, Marie was
released as the Primary teacher for the 8-9 year olds and called as the
Assistant Primary Music Leader—one month before the annual Primary program
because the Music Leader was due to have a baby that week. Despite her feelings of inadequacy to the
calling, she has felt the Lord inspire her and strengthen her to fulfill this
special calling to teach music to the children at church.
Naomi is becoming a big
girl. She started her first year of home
preschool, took her first swimming lessons, and participated in a
daddy-daughter soccer class at the YMCA. She really enjoys “doing school.” Her favorite
subject for school seems to be science/biology.
She is interested in all things related to the human body—especially the
immune, circulatory, and skeletal systems.
She has been asking mommy for a microscope so she can look at her red
blood cells. She also really likes ocean creatures like echinoderms (commonly
known as starfish to most people), octopus, fish, and seahorses. She knows all the letters of the alphabet and
most of their respective sounds and recently asked to learn to read—an
adventure we’re diving headfirst into for school after the holidays are
over. She is a great big sister and very
excited to have a little brother.
Ruthe has grown so much this
year, though she is still quite little.
Early in the year her doctors expressed concern about her height, but it
seems all for naught because she has gone through multiple growth spurts lately
and is growing and eating a ton with her slowly acquired 8 little teeth. She took her first steps this summer while at
the Neeley family reunion in Bozeman, Montana.
Her vocabulary is rapidly expanding, and she’s even learning her
manners! When she really wants something she puts her hands together, palms up
and says, “’Eese!” with a big cheesey grin.
She loves reading with mommy; her favorite books include, “A Plump and
Perky Turkey” and “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” She’s not sure about this “brother” everyone
keeps talking about, but she LOVES to shake mommy’s tummy and watch/feel it move
in response. She loves playing basketball
and hockey.
We love you all and wish you a
very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! –The Neeleys
Friday, December 6, 2013
Ugly Days of Motherhood
I love my kids. With all my heart. Always.
But some days I don't like being a mom very much... Raising a 3 year old and 18 months old while 8+ months pregnant is ... ?... exhausting just isn't a strong enough word to convey how tired I feel emotionally and physically.
Today is testing my limits. It's an ugly mom day. As I type this, I hear my daughters upstairs pulling the dresser drawers out and throwing their clothes all over their bedroom, crying and occasionally banging on the door. But I'm not going to go upstairs and stop them right now because I've had enough moments of walking into a destroyed room today. Today... the day before our housewarming party.
I just wanted to clean and decorate for Christmas so our home felt warm and festive for our friends and guests tomorrow, and because I just love a warm and festive home for Christmas. Today the universe, or maybe just my children, have decided to make that goal as impossible as they can.
Ruthe woke up with a leaking diaper. No big deal. New diaper, wipe the baby, throw pajamas in the wash, put on clothes for the day.
Have breakfast-- we go with yogurt, and I tell the kids to finish up while I go try and trade out dishes from the dishwasher and clean last nights pots and pans that I left soaking. Naomi cleans up fine, Ruthe washes the table and her hair with yogurt, and gets it all over her clothes. Again. Ugh... change Ruthe's clothes again, wipe her down again. Go to school room, read a couple stories, tell kids to play puzzles and "read" while I clean the kitchen.
While cleaning kitchen, hear lots of thuds and falling, followed by crying. All the books are on the floor. No one hurt, just startled. Every puzzle piece is mixed together in a giant pile in the middle of the room, our puzzles plus the library puzzles we have checked out. Along with some other library toys. (I have paid too much in fines for losing library toy parts due "incidents" just like this that I don't take care of right away, so I MUST clean this up ASAP and count every piece of every puzzle and toy.) I ask the kids to help, but they keep taking apart the puzzles I'm checking the pieces for, so I send them to their room.
They don't go to their room. They go to the kitchen because, apparently, they want more yogurt. Refrigerator and floor of kitchen get "mopped" with yogurt, and kids recycle the yogurt as shampoo. Yell.
Take kids to bathroom and tell them to get undressed while I wipe up the excess yogurt. Just damage control; I will have to mop and wipe clean later, but for now I don't want massive dried yogurt all over the place. Return to bathroom for mid-day bathtime, and half the toilet paper is shredded and sticking to my yogurt covered Ruthe.
Baths.
Lock clean, dried, clothed children in bedroom and tell them it's nap time.
Go downstairs and cry.
Write therapeutic blog entry about ugly mom day.
Re-read said blog post.
Laugh.
Regret not taking a picture.
Publish blog post.
To Do Next
Pray.
Go apologize to screaming children banging on their bedroom door for locking them in their room, and help them clean their room. Give hugs and kisses and remember that I really do love them.
A mother's work is messy and never ends.
But some days I don't like being a mom very much... Raising a 3 year old and 18 months old while 8+ months pregnant is ... ?... exhausting just isn't a strong enough word to convey how tired I feel emotionally and physically.
Today is testing my limits. It's an ugly mom day. As I type this, I hear my daughters upstairs pulling the dresser drawers out and throwing their clothes all over their bedroom, crying and occasionally banging on the door. But I'm not going to go upstairs and stop them right now because I've had enough moments of walking into a destroyed room today. Today... the day before our housewarming party.
I just wanted to clean and decorate for Christmas so our home felt warm and festive for our friends and guests tomorrow, and because I just love a warm and festive home for Christmas. Today the universe, or maybe just my children, have decided to make that goal as impossible as they can.
Ruthe woke up with a leaking diaper. No big deal. New diaper, wipe the baby, throw pajamas in the wash, put on clothes for the day.
Have breakfast-- we go with yogurt, and I tell the kids to finish up while I go try and trade out dishes from the dishwasher and clean last nights pots and pans that I left soaking. Naomi cleans up fine, Ruthe washes the table and her hair with yogurt, and gets it all over her clothes. Again. Ugh... change Ruthe's clothes again, wipe her down again. Go to school room, read a couple stories, tell kids to play puzzles and "read" while I clean the kitchen.
While cleaning kitchen, hear lots of thuds and falling, followed by crying. All the books are on the floor. No one hurt, just startled. Every puzzle piece is mixed together in a giant pile in the middle of the room, our puzzles plus the library puzzles we have checked out. Along with some other library toys. (I have paid too much in fines for losing library toy parts due "incidents" just like this that I don't take care of right away, so I MUST clean this up ASAP and count every piece of every puzzle and toy.) I ask the kids to help, but they keep taking apart the puzzles I'm checking the pieces for, so I send them to their room.
They don't go to their room. They go to the kitchen because, apparently, they want more yogurt. Refrigerator and floor of kitchen get "mopped" with yogurt, and kids recycle the yogurt as shampoo. Yell.
Take kids to bathroom and tell them to get undressed while I wipe up the excess yogurt. Just damage control; I will have to mop and wipe clean later, but for now I don't want massive dried yogurt all over the place. Return to bathroom for mid-day bathtime, and half the toilet paper is shredded and sticking to my yogurt covered Ruthe.
Baths.
Lock clean, dried, clothed children in bedroom and tell them it's nap time.
Go downstairs and cry.
Write therapeutic blog entry about ugly mom day.
Re-read said blog post.
Laugh.
Regret not taking a picture.
Publish blog post.
To Do Next
Pray.
Go apologize to screaming children banging on their bedroom door for locking them in their room, and help them clean their room. Give hugs and kisses and remember that I really do love them.
A mother's work is messy and never ends.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Baby Loss Awareness Week
Did you know that October 9-15 this year is considered National Baby Loss Awareness Week?
I just found out a little bit ago.
Secret: I've been terrified most of my current pregnancy that I will lose my little boy... (maybe this is totally normal? there's a few reason's why, but posting them here seems inappropriate because it will only make me rant about a pet peeve, and that's not what I want to do in this post.)
I've never suffered the pain of miscarriage or losing a baby, and I hope I never do.
I don't/can't fully understand losing a baby, but ... I just wanted to make a small post in memory of those dear little ones and honoring my friends and family who've had to go through losing a baby. I have had so many friends who have suffered this loss recently, and my heart breaks for them. I won't share their names because I know it's incredibly personal, but I have cried for each of them when they've opened up to me about it.
To my friends and family who have lost a little one, I'm thinking of you this week. You are in my thoughts and prayers, this week and often. You and your little ones are so loved.
I just found out a little bit ago.
Secret: I've been terrified most of my current pregnancy that I will lose my little boy... (maybe this is totally normal? there's a few reason's why, but posting them here seems inappropriate because it will only make me rant about a pet peeve, and that's not what I want to do in this post.)
I've never suffered the pain of miscarriage or losing a baby, and I hope I never do.
I don't/can't fully understand losing a baby, but ... I just wanted to make a small post in memory of those dear little ones and honoring my friends and family who've had to go through losing a baby. I have had so many friends who have suffered this loss recently, and my heart breaks for them. I won't share their names because I know it's incredibly personal, but I have cried for each of them when they've opened up to me about it.
To my friends and family who have lost a little one, I'm thinking of you this week. You are in my thoughts and prayers, this week and often. You and your little ones are so loved.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Pajama Mondays
We've started a new tradition in the Neeley House-- Pajama Monday!
ok, ok, so Pajama Monday is really just accepting the fact that the kids and I often don't get out of our jammies on Monday... but now, we're making it an official tradition because we are combining it with Breakfast for Dinner Day (which used to be any night when I didn't feel like making a big dinner).
So now, Mondays are Officially Pajama Monday. We wear our pj's all day, eat breakfast food for dinner, and may or may not make blanket forts in the living room to read in for story time. :-)
ok, ok, so Pajama Monday is really just accepting the fact that the kids and I often don't get out of our jammies on Monday... but now, we're making it an official tradition because we are combining it with Breakfast for Dinner Day (which used to be any night when I didn't feel like making a big dinner).
So now, Mondays are Officially Pajama Monday. We wear our pj's all day, eat breakfast food for dinner, and may or may not make blanket forts in the living room to read in for story time. :-)
 |
| From pajama day last week while making pumpkin lanterns. |
Fun Fridays
Since starting homeschool for Munchkin, I've fiddled and read about a million different ways to organize the school day/week/month/etc.
For now, Fridays are our "fun days." Which means we play games all day: Memory, Candy Land, Go Fish, Uno is in our collection right now, but I'm hoping that expands quickly (to get list: Yahtzee, Shoots and Ladders, Connect 4.... any other suggestions?) Or we go to the park, or play tic-tac-toe in the driveway with sidewalk chalk.
(Though after reading "The Unschooling Handbook" (by Mary Griffith), I'm beginning to wonder if any day really needs the designation "fun day" outside of "real learning school days." More of my thoughts on this are forthcoming in another blog post where I review the handbook and my developing thoughts on the unschooling philosophy.)
For now, Fridays are our "fun days." Which means we play games all day: Memory, Candy Land, Go Fish, Uno is in our collection right now, but I'm hoping that expands quickly (to get list: Yahtzee, Shoots and Ladders, Connect 4.... any other suggestions?) Or we go to the park, or play tic-tac-toe in the driveway with sidewalk chalk.
(Though after reading "The Unschooling Handbook" (by Mary Griffith), I'm beginning to wonder if any day really needs the designation "fun day" outside of "real learning school days." More of my thoughts on this are forthcoming in another blog post where I review the handbook and my developing thoughts on the unschooling philosophy.)
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The Gift of ... Hands?
I've always been a bit fascinated by sign language. My mom taught me the alphabet when I was younger, and just a very small handful of useful words. In college, I took a couple American Sign Language (ASL) classes, and to be honest, I didn't do very well. (I averaged a B- or C+, and even failed ASL 202 because I missed the final exam.)
After Munchkin was born, I really wanted to do baby sign with her because I knew of so much research that confirmed signing to babies helps with language development. She was a signing-pro by 15 months. So much so that she was better than I was and creating her own signs! I quit signing to her because I was afraid I couldn't keep up with her, and that she'd make up signs that weren't real (kind of silly now that I think about it...).
Late last year, I felt a prompting, if you will, that I should brush up and learn more sign. My favorite way to learn signs when in college was by watching songs performed in ASL; so, I downloaded many of the Primary Children's Songs in ASL to my kindle and during Sharing Time (since I was a Primary teacher and just sitting with my kids during this time) I would watch the songs that the kids were learning. I would try to practice very small in my seat, trying not to attract attention. No one ever said anything, and I figured no one noticed (or they just thought I was an inconsiderate jerk to be watching my kindle all through Singing Time).
Until, one fateful day, the Stake Primary Presidency was visiting during a Ward Conference. The Singing Time leader asked me to come up and sign "My Heavenly Father Loves Me" to the kids. (NO warning! Not even before Singing Time started... just out of the blue, "Hey, Sister Neeley, I know I've seen you signing. Can you come up now and teach the kids the first verse in sign?") Now, this is one that I had not practiced in sign... the kids had not even learned the song yet, and I didn't know the song well (I'm a convert, and did not learn the songs as a child). I couldn't say no, though. I knew what they were doing: trying to impress the Stake Primary Presidency. So, I got up and ...
I made most of it up.
No lie.
I just made up signs, assuming one else knew ASL, no one would notice. I felt humiliated, but tried to not let on. I mean, the key to making people believe you is to just act like you know what you're doing, right???
No one noticed that I was making stuff up. I knew about 1/3 of the words, and pantomimed the rest. After Primary, the Stake Primary President found me and asked where I learned sign.
BUSTED!
Or so I thought... I mentioned that I had taken a couple classes at BYU, but was very rusty, not fluent at all, and quietly admitted that I had "made some of it up because I forgot some of it." She laughed and told me, "oh, I'm sure you're just being modest. You learned at BYU!" I politely thanked her for the compliment, and mentioned that I had to go pick up Munchkin from Nursery. That was it. I thought I'd escaped.
A few months later, shortly after putting the kids to sleep, this kind Primary President called me and told me of her plans for the primary children to sing and sign "I Am a Child of God" during Stake Conference in a few weeks, and she wanted me to lead the children in sign and sign to the congregation at Stake Conference! I hadn't been practicing during Singing Time at church anymore (didn't want another surprise request, and figured I had been rude to watch the sign videos and should pay attention to the leader, set a good example to my kids, etc), so I was even more rusty. Terrified, I told her, "I think you and Heavenly Father trust my signing abilities far more than I do. But if Heavenly Father thinks I can do it, and calls me to it, then I can and will sign at Conference."
Six weeks later, after watching and practicing "I am a Child of God" in ASL almost everyday, I stood at the front of Stake Conference and signed with 2 Primary children who had taken the challenge to learn the whole song and sign with me, facing the congregation where all the Primary children stood and signed the 1st verse and chorus to the song. It was incredibly beautiful. I couldn't sing the words without my voice cracking as I teared up, so I could only sign.
I know Heavenly Father helped me to learn the song in sign. It was not something I could have done without divine help. He blessed my efforts and gave me power to communicate through the Spirit to those at Conference. The gift of tongues... only for my hands. It was an incredible experience.
The next week, I was released as a Primary teacher for the 8-9 year olds and called as the Assistant Ward Primary Music Leader (the regular music leader is about to have a baby and the Primary Sacrament Program is in 10 days!). It's now my new goal to learn all the Primary songs in ASL, and use signs to help teach the songs to the primary children. My current songs that I'm learning are "A Child's Prayer" and "My Heavenly Father Loves Me."
Also, it seems Munchkin never forgot what she knew in sign either, and she is voraciously learning as many new signs as possible. She asks me to teach her new signs everyday, and asks to watch videos from the library of books performed in ASL. She uses signs frequently throughout the day, too. Papoose, I'm hoping will catch on soon. I've already noticed that Munchkin's language abilities are far advanced for her age, and Papoose is perfectly average. Papoose is slowly catching on, but she's already over 1 year, so she's not picking it us as quickly as Munchkin. As I learn more, I try to sign the books I read to them, as well.
After Munchkin was born, I really wanted to do baby sign with her because I knew of so much research that confirmed signing to babies helps with language development. She was a signing-pro by 15 months. So much so that she was better than I was and creating her own signs! I quit signing to her because I was afraid I couldn't keep up with her, and that she'd make up signs that weren't real (kind of silly now that I think about it...).
Late last year, I felt a prompting, if you will, that I should brush up and learn more sign. My favorite way to learn signs when in college was by watching songs performed in ASL; so, I downloaded many of the Primary Children's Songs in ASL to my kindle and during Sharing Time (since I was a Primary teacher and just sitting with my kids during this time) I would watch the songs that the kids were learning. I would try to practice very small in my seat, trying not to attract attention. No one ever said anything, and I figured no one noticed (or they just thought I was an inconsiderate jerk to be watching my kindle all through Singing Time).
Until, one fateful day, the Stake Primary Presidency was visiting during a Ward Conference. The Singing Time leader asked me to come up and sign "My Heavenly Father Loves Me" to the kids. (NO warning! Not even before Singing Time started... just out of the blue, "Hey, Sister Neeley, I know I've seen you signing. Can you come up now and teach the kids the first verse in sign?") Now, this is one that I had not practiced in sign... the kids had not even learned the song yet, and I didn't know the song well (I'm a convert, and did not learn the songs as a child). I couldn't say no, though. I knew what they were doing: trying to impress the Stake Primary Presidency. So, I got up and ...
I made most of it up.
No lie.
I just made up signs, assuming one else knew ASL, no one would notice. I felt humiliated, but tried to not let on. I mean, the key to making people believe you is to just act like you know what you're doing, right???
No one noticed that I was making stuff up. I knew about 1/3 of the words, and pantomimed the rest. After Primary, the Stake Primary President found me and asked where I learned sign.
BUSTED!
Or so I thought... I mentioned that I had taken a couple classes at BYU, but was very rusty, not fluent at all, and quietly admitted that I had "made some of it up because I forgot some of it." She laughed and told me, "oh, I'm sure you're just being modest. You learned at BYU!" I politely thanked her for the compliment, and mentioned that I had to go pick up Munchkin from Nursery. That was it. I thought I'd escaped.
A few months later, shortly after putting the kids to sleep, this kind Primary President called me and told me of her plans for the primary children to sing and sign "I Am a Child of God" during Stake Conference in a few weeks, and she wanted me to lead the children in sign and sign to the congregation at Stake Conference! I hadn't been practicing during Singing Time at church anymore (didn't want another surprise request, and figured I had been rude to watch the sign videos and should pay attention to the leader, set a good example to my kids, etc), so I was even more rusty. Terrified, I told her, "I think you and Heavenly Father trust my signing abilities far more than I do. But if Heavenly Father thinks I can do it, and calls me to it, then I can and will sign at Conference."
Six weeks later, after watching and practicing "I am a Child of God" in ASL almost everyday, I stood at the front of Stake Conference and signed with 2 Primary children who had taken the challenge to learn the whole song and sign with me, facing the congregation where all the Primary children stood and signed the 1st verse and chorus to the song. It was incredibly beautiful. I couldn't sing the words without my voice cracking as I teared up, so I could only sign.
I know Heavenly Father helped me to learn the song in sign. It was not something I could have done without divine help. He blessed my efforts and gave me power to communicate through the Spirit to those at Conference. The gift of tongues... only for my hands. It was an incredible experience.
The next week, I was released as a Primary teacher for the 8-9 year olds and called as the Assistant Ward Primary Music Leader (the regular music leader is about to have a baby and the Primary Sacrament Program is in 10 days!). It's now my new goal to learn all the Primary songs in ASL, and use signs to help teach the songs to the primary children. My current songs that I'm learning are "A Child's Prayer" and "My Heavenly Father Loves Me."
Also, it seems Munchkin never forgot what she knew in sign either, and she is voraciously learning as many new signs as possible. She asks me to teach her new signs everyday, and asks to watch videos from the library of books performed in ASL. She uses signs frequently throughout the day, too. Papoose, I'm hoping will catch on soon. I've already noticed that Munchkin's language abilities are far advanced for her age, and Papoose is perfectly average. Papoose is slowly catching on, but she's already over 1 year, so she's not picking it us as quickly as Munchkin. As I learn more, I try to sign the books I read to them, as well.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Family Camping Trip
We went on a mini-camping trip with the girls and Brad's parents a few weeks ago. It was just over 1 night, but it was a good test camping trip to see how the girls would do. (They did awesome! We're going to try making this an annual family tradition with Nana and Grandpa.)
A week later, Munchkin came to me and said, "Mommy, I want YOU to take me fishing. Then I'll catch a fish. I didn't catch any fish with Grandpa." (I've been fishing once in my life, when I was 10, and I didn't catch anything. And didn't want to catch any.) Grandpa took this as quite a blow to his ego, and promised to take her to a good lake to go fishing soon. Admittedly, the location we were at was terrible for fishing when we were camping-- in a busy river with lots of people. Mostly this particular "fishing trip" was to let Munchkin reel in a line a few times, thinking that would satisfy her desire to "go fishing." As it turns out, Munchkin really does want to catch some fish and spend time with Grandpa, and she realized our weak attempts to pacify her curiosity. (She is way smarter than we give her credit for most of the time!)
We had lots of fun camping with the girls for the first time and look forward to our next family camping trip-- hopefully next year, but then we'll have a little baby boy, too. :-)
5th Anniversary
For our 5th Anniversary, Brad's parents agreed to watch the girls for us while we went on a weekend trip to visit our nation's capital, Washington D.C. It was so much fun to just spend time together alone! It's very rare, and something we both realized that we needed very much.
We arrived late on a Thursday night, and just checked into our hotel. Our tours started early Friday morning: first the Printing and Engraving Building. Brad collects coins and some smattering of other currencies, so it was high on the list of places to go. Our next tour was 30 minutes after the end of the engraving tour on the other end of the capital mall (a mile walk or more) at the Capital Building. We asked an officer directing traffic for the quickest route and he told us we would never make it in time. We speed walked and made it with 12 minutes to spare! Go us!
In front of the capital building. Our White House tour was cancelled because of stupid political posturing related to the sequester. One day, we will get to visit the White House... just means we'll have to go back again someday. We didn't even bother walking over to the White House since it was out the the way for the other sights we wanted to see.
We didn't get a Stanley Cupcake... but they looked awesome!
We had lunch at a Hawaiian food truck. It wasn't the best, but it was still pretty good. (Man, I miss Polynesian food!)
After the lunch (which we actually ran around trying to find that Hawaiian food truck because it parks in different places everyday and we really wanted poly food) we rested for a bit and planned to go see the Library of Congress (which, interesting fact about Marie: I have a poem I wrote in 7th or 8th grade that was published in some youth poetry anthology that's kept at the Library of Congress) and the founding documents at the National Archives building. I have always wanted to see the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States in person. And I did. I was so filled with reverence as I read the original documents. I really do believe in the principles those documents stand for, and hope I can teach my children to live those principles and we can all defend them. I truly am grateful to live in the United States and for the freedoms it brings me. Those documents reminded me that the freedom we enjoy today was bought at a precious price many years ago, and I hope to pass those teachings down to my own children. For dinner we took the metro to the Cheesecake Factory-- I had never been there, ad Brad's parents gave us a gift card for there before we left. I got in touch with my inner child and enjoyed a delicious, artery clogging mac'n'cheese burger, and we split a mint chocolate oreo cheesecake slice for dessert.
The second day, we visited the Holocaust Museum. I think we were there for 4-5 hours. We got there an hour early and waited in line for 2 hours before going inside. It was emotionally and physically exhausting, or I just felt physically exhausted because I was so far emotionally spent. I highly recommend going, but be mindful that it will take time and LOTS of energy to fully appreciate this place.
One of the neat things they do to help you "go there" is give you a little book about a person who lived during the Holocaust and you read their story as you go through each level of the museum. My person's story just got more and more horrific. Brad's person had a pretty quick story, and we found out early that he survived. By the last level, when I was supposed to read the last page of my person's book, I was absolutely convinced that she died. I sat down and told Brad I didn't want to read the last page. He put his arm around me and encouraged me to read it anyway. I read that she did NOT die from the Holocaust. She somehow miraculously survived and went on to become a teacher. I lost it. Full on bawling. In public. That's what this place is capable of doing to a person. So just, be prepared.
Cuddle time while walking around DC.
I really want to go back someday, but take the kids with as part of a homeschool adventure. I really wanted to check out the American History Museum, and the Natural History Museum, but we didn't have time and/or energy. After the Holocaust Museum, we checked out of the hotel, rode the metro to Brad's cousin's (where our car was parked), and met her for lunch at Cafe Rio. Then we headed to our next hotel, which was closer to the DC temple. Checked in, then went to the temple. Visiting the DC temple and doing work inside has always been on my "bucket list," so I made it a major priority to go there. It was a very special experience, and one that was met after overcoming many obstacles (like forgetting my wallet at Brad's parents' house, in the diaper bag, when we dropped off the girls for the weekend, which had my temple recommend in it, so we had to call our bishop and the temple president in DC). I think we just had a fast food dinner on the way back to the hotel that night... I don't remember, it was late.
Sunday was a special stake/regional conference, so we just drove home Sunday morning, and made it back to Brad's parents and were reunited with our little girls that afternoon feeling very much refreshed after a long weekend away. It was a wonderful anniversary trip! Thank you to Brad's parents for making it possible!
We arrived late on a Thursday night, and just checked into our hotel. Our tours started early Friday morning: first the Printing and Engraving Building. Brad collects coins and some smattering of other currencies, so it was high on the list of places to go. Our next tour was 30 minutes after the end of the engraving tour on the other end of the capital mall (a mile walk or more) at the Capital Building. We asked an officer directing traffic for the quickest route and he told us we would never make it in time. We speed walked and made it with 12 minutes to spare! Go us!
 |
| Marie is as tall as $1,537,800 in $100 bills. |
 |
| Brad is as tall as $1,631,000 in $100 bills. |
After the lunch (which we actually ran around trying to find that Hawaiian food truck because it parks in different places everyday and we really wanted poly food) we rested for a bit and planned to go see the Library of Congress (which, interesting fact about Marie: I have a poem I wrote in 7th or 8th grade that was published in some youth poetry anthology that's kept at the Library of Congress) and the founding documents at the National Archives building. I have always wanted to see the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States in person. And I did. I was so filled with reverence as I read the original documents. I really do believe in the principles those documents stand for, and hope I can teach my children to live those principles and we can all defend them. I truly am grateful to live in the United States and for the freedoms it brings me. Those documents reminded me that the freedom we enjoy today was bought at a precious price many years ago, and I hope to pass those teachings down to my own children. For dinner we took the metro to the Cheesecake Factory-- I had never been there, ad Brad's parents gave us a gift card for there before we left. I got in touch with my inner child and enjoyed a delicious, artery clogging mac'n'cheese burger, and we split a mint chocolate oreo cheesecake slice for dessert.
One of the neat things they do to help you "go there" is give you a little book about a person who lived during the Holocaust and you read their story as you go through each level of the museum. My person's story just got more and more horrific. Brad's person had a pretty quick story, and we found out early that he survived. By the last level, when I was supposed to read the last page of my person's book, I was absolutely convinced that she died. I sat down and told Brad I didn't want to read the last page. He put his arm around me and encouraged me to read it anyway. I read that she did NOT die from the Holocaust. She somehow miraculously survived and went on to become a teacher. I lost it. Full on bawling. In public. That's what this place is capable of doing to a person. So just, be prepared.
I really want to go back someday, but take the kids with as part of a homeschool adventure. I really wanted to check out the American History Museum, and the Natural History Museum, but we didn't have time and/or energy. After the Holocaust Museum, we checked out of the hotel, rode the metro to Brad's cousin's (where our car was parked), and met her for lunch at Cafe Rio. Then we headed to our next hotel, which was closer to the DC temple. Checked in, then went to the temple. Visiting the DC temple and doing work inside has always been on my "bucket list," so I made it a major priority to go there. It was a very special experience, and one that was met after overcoming many obstacles (like forgetting my wallet at Brad's parents' house, in the diaper bag, when we dropped off the girls for the weekend, which had my temple recommend in it, so we had to call our bishop and the temple president in DC). I think we just had a fast food dinner on the way back to the hotel that night... I don't remember, it was late.
Sunday was a special stake/regional conference, so we just drove home Sunday morning, and made it back to Brad's parents and were reunited with our little girls that afternoon feeling very much refreshed after a long weekend away. It was a wonderful anniversary trip! Thank you to Brad's parents for making it possible!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)