Opening Our Hearts
Erik and I have discussed throughout our relationship that we both felt that ministering to children outside of our own family was important to us. We've discussed different ways we would accomplish this. Youth ministry within our churches was one way, me providing childcare in our home was another. A far off "one day" option was Foster Care. Far off as in our children would be much older and we'd have lived through most of the elementary school years to have considerable experience under our belts. Having once worked in a system with Foster families and foster children, I am aware of the challenges of foster care and have felt that to be fair to our children, waiting until they didn't need us so much would be ideal.
Ten little toes.
A dear friend of ours (referenced in this story as E) works for a foster/adoption care agency and we've talked with her over and over how "one day" we'd be interested in welcoming Foster children into our home, etc. She tells us stories of how foster families are needed, never pressuring us, but saying, "You guys would be a great Foster Family" and then leaving us to pray about it. Through her encouragement and our own prayer, we started to come around to the idea of starting the process a little earlier than we thought and tossed around the idea of doing foster care for children under 2 or on a respite type basis which would be very short term.
Through a series of "coincidences" it became very clear to us that God was telling us it was time to start the Foster Care process. It mid-June and Erik was home waiting for the veteranarian to arrive to look over our goats for the Big Butler Fair. It was just after noon and he came into the house asking to borrow my cell phone because he could not find his. He was headed back out to the barn to call his phone because he thought he dropped it in the manure. While he was walking back to the barn, he tried calling our friend, N, whose son boards his goat with us and who was going to show his goat too. The Vet was going to check that goat as well, and we needed to have her registered name on the Vet papers. When our friend N didn't answer his phone, Erik then used my phone to call his wife, E, who at the time was at work at her agency in a meeting where they were discussing the fact that they had had a call from another agency looking for a foster home for an infant. Erin looked at her phone, saw that I (Erik) was calling her and a light bulb went off. Shortly after that, she called me and said that they were looking for people to foster an infant and since we thought we might like to care for infants she wanted us to know. Erik and I talked about it, prayed about it and we both came to the conclusion that God was telling us to get the process started. We both knew that we wouldn't necessarily be blessed with a child right away, but if nothing else, we could get certified and then take it from there.
So we did. A few days later, we went to the agency, signed the papers, and over the coming days had our criminal backgrounds checked, had our home checked out and a water test completed. The water test failed. Twice. We're waiting for the results of the third test.
Then last week, we got a call from one of our coordinators who said that another agency was looking to place a baby girl. They didn't have many details but the placement would occur Monday and we were to assume the placement would be for three months, but to be aware that all details were dependent on the hearing on Monday. If we were interested, we should come to the hearing on Monday. In the meantime, we were cautioned that over the weekend, things could vastly change and nothing was definite. I spent the weekend in anticipation yet preparing for the worst. Finally, Sunday after we dropped Maggie off at Pymatuning to camp with Mimi and her cousin, I asked Erik to stop at Walmart to buy size 1 diapers. Just in case. And I allowed myself to get a little excited about the potential of a new baby in the house.
The next day, I continued to allow myself to feel more excited and I began some preparations. I dug out the bassinet from the attic and searched through my bin of keepsake clothes and found lots of adorable newborn outfits for a little girl. I didn't even realize I had saved so much for Maggie! That afternoon, after washing blankets and clothes and bedding, Erik and I went to the hearing and due to extenuating circumstances, had to leave before we knew the fate of the baby! Talk about torture! We ended up going home and about an hour later, our coordinator called to let us know that we would have the baby for just five days instead of the three months that we had anticipated. It was a little discouraging, but I quickly realized that this was a blessing from God as we learned that there was a little more involved in the process than we anticipated.
So here we are, four days later, basking in the pink presence of a baby girl in our house again.
Ten little fingers.
Ten little toes.
Everyone has fallen in love with her.
It's going to be quite an adventure, this journey of the heart we are embarking on.
There are going to be lots of highs and lots of lows. We're trusting that God will guard our hearts and protect us from heart ache as we tend to these little lambs and then send them on their way. The future is unknown for us and for them. There are so many things we have double and triple and quadruple thought about in terms of exposing our family in this way. The bottom line is that despite the probable (definite) heart ache, we believe it is our purpose to provide love and care for children by opening our home and our hearts.
This was a light week for me in general because the children were taking turns camping with Mimi, so I didn't have a full plate of children to tend to, so tending to an infant was much easier. Also, prior to Monday, were told baby would have visitation with her bio parents once a week, but it turns out it was three times a week, so that would have been difficult (but manageable) to figure out. Additionally, we knew we had a week of travel/vacation planned and coordinating how to work that out with the visitation schedule was going to prove very difficult. I think also, God is blessing us with just a little taste of what this is going to be like for us. Because of the camping trip, none of the children but Whit had much more than 36 hours with baby in the house. That gave them just enough time to love on her, but not too much time to become too attached. Walker and Will were able to kiss her goodbye and head out for their camping trip - a welcome distraction, especially for Willie who was absolutely wonderful with baby girl. Walker enjoyed her too, but was kind of over the whole crying thing. Willie, however, was a champ, telling me that he would take care of her and he never ever would mind if she cried.
Maggie got to meet her yesterday and hasn't left her side. More blessings came this week as a school friend called to plan a play date with Maggie so she has something fun to look forward to after saying goodbye. And even I won't have too much time to wallow in goodbye as I pack up the few baby things and get our family packed for a trip to Hershey with my mom and sister and then for a separate end of the week trip to NY and Lake Chautauqua.
It's a scary adventure we're on. But one I know will be well worth the journey.
Pretty little Milkmaid
Last year about this time, I mentioned to my friend, C, that I had seen the most adorable little butter dish in my Country Living magazine. It was shaped like a little doll.
I said it was in the Anthropologie catalog so it must be expensive.
Fast forward a few months and Whitaker was born. After he was born, C gave me this HUGE box. Inside the box is a smaller box containing the little yellow Milkmaid butter dish.
Thank you for your interest in the Milkmaid Butter Dish. This item is currently available. You may place your order by contacting us at 1-800-309-2500. Please refer to item number 973751. Quantities are very limited; to ensure that you receive this item you will want to order as soon as possible.
If you require additional assistance or have any other questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at service@anthropologie.com.
Please include this email with your reply.
Sincerely,
Amber Hart
Anthropologie
As soon as I opened the lid, I could see the bottom dish was shattered.
I gingerly pulled it out to see that it was broken in many pieces.
But the top portion was perfect! The little milkmaid was in perfect health!
I called Anthropologie's customer service line and explained to the representative what had happened. She immediately issued a refund and when I asked how I was to ship the broken item back, she said, "Oh, no. We don't expect it to be returned. We cannot have broken porcelain going through the mail." She then proceeded to give me the phone numbers for stores across the country that still had the milkmaid in red in stock. I could call them and ask them to ship a new one if I so desired.
I pulled it out and placed the little red milkmaid on top and voilà!
So now I have two beautiful little ladies to hold my butter.
The lady in red.
I said it was in the Anthropologie catalog so it must be expensive.
Fast forward a few months and Whitaker was born. After he was born, C gave me this HUGE box. Inside the box is a smaller box containing the little yellow Milkmaid butter dish.
I was beyond touched, thrilled and so excited. She told me that she tried to get me the red one, but it was out of stock. It became a cherished item in my house, and like many cherished (and fragile) items, I did not know what to do with her. I mean, if you use her, you run the risk of chipping, or worse, breaking her!
But, if you don't use her, what's the point of having her? I mean, of course she looks adorable just sitting around, but in order for people to see her, I have to have her out!
I did have her sit around for a while, but then I started using her for her intended purpose. I slapped some butter under her skirt and we've used her for months. The children were all instructed that she was a precious item and that they MUST be careful with her.
That is until last Sunday. Last Sunday, it was just me, Maggie & Whitaker. I was feeding Whitaker in his high chair and while my back was turned, the go-go gadget arms that only a baby possesses managed to reach the little milkmaid and knock her from the kitchen island onto the floor.
The carnage was awful.
I was devastated. I know she was just a thing, but she represented so much. In the back of my mind, I imagined that I was going to give this butter dish to Whitaker's wife when she had her first baby. I'd tell her all about where the dish came from, the importance of C in my life, and how important friendships are once you become mother. I picked up every piece off the floor and set the pieces to soak in hot water to get the butter off. I then ran to the computer and went to Anthropologie.com to see if I could buy a replacement. They were no longer in the catalog. I google searched every tag that could remotely relate to the dish and still nothing. I looked at ebay, replacements.com, every non-traditional auction site online. I even searched craigslist in various large cities in other states. NOTHING!
With little hope left, I went back to Anthropologie.com and zipped off an email to customer service:
I received a yellow Milkmaid Butter Dish as a gift after I had my last baby. My son accidentally knocked it off the counter and broke it. Not only is it my most favorite kitchen accessory, it holds great sentimental value and I desperately want to replace it. Can you help???
Sincerely,
Sincerely,
Jennifer Schwalm
Monday morning, around 7:30, I check my email and there in my box is a reply:
Hello Jennifer,
Thank you for your interest in the Milkmaid Butter Dish. This item is currently available. You may place your order by contacting us at 1-800-309-2500. Please refer to item number 973751. Quantities are very limited; to ensure that you receive this item you will want to order as soon as possible.
If you require additional assistance or have any other questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at service@anthropologie.com.
Please include this email with your reply.
Sincerely,
Amber Hart
Anthropologie
7:45 AM, I was on the phone with Anthropologie and I ordered TWO new dishes. One Yellow and one Red!
Thursday, the UPS man showed up at the door with a big box with Anthropologie on the return address. I knew as soon as the UPS man handed me the big box, something was broken. You could hear the tinkling of broken porcelain that easily. I gingerly opened the box and found two smaller boxes inside. The first box was the yellow Milkmaid. She was intact. The obvious conclusion was that the red one was broken. I still held out a little hope that maybe it wasn't really broken - maybe the packaging wasn't as good and the top was clanking against the bottom.
I called Anthropologie's customer service line and explained to the representative what had happened. She immediately issued a refund and when I asked how I was to ship the broken item back, she said, "Oh, no. We don't expect it to be returned. We cannot have broken porcelain going through the mail." She then proceeded to give me the phone numbers for stores across the country that still had the milkmaid in red in stock. I could call them and ask them to ship a new one if I so desired.
Since the lid to the little lady was still in perfect condition, I figured I could find a replacement bottom until I remembered to go to the store and buy some porcelain repair glue to see if I could glue the bottom back together.
I have a small collection of red transfer ware plates that I had started collecting back when I was just out of college and living on my own in a little three level townhouse in Seven Fields. Blue transfer ware has always been popular, and since I love red, it seemed a natural choice for a "grown up" collection. Just as I started collecting the red transfer ware, Country Living magazine featured a huge article on transfer ware in general and the red became a new collectors item. After that I could rarely get my hands on a saucer for under $20 - prior, I had been picking up actual dinner plates for under that price. Thus, my collecting of vintage red transfer ware ended. I still occasionally pick up a new piece at TJ Maxx or Marshalls, but the vintage stuff is out of my price range.
So, I had a pair of these vintage saucers in the cupboard that I use as serving pieces at different functions.
I pulled it out and placed the little red milkmaid on top and voilà!
It didn't match up perfectly, but it will work for now.
So now I have two beautiful little ladies to hold my butter.
And her pretty little yellow friend.
They now sit on top of the refrigerator and I won't make the mistake of leaving them anywhere that could be in reach of Mr. Whitaker.
The broken pieces are in a box in the closet, waiting for me to remember to pick up some epoxy to fix them. Although my yellow lady is not the original, I will still be able to look at her and be reminded of my friend C. her thoughtfulness, and the friendship we share, how our friendship has enriched my life an continues to do so every day and how something as simple as a butter dish can be so much more. I can eventually pass down the "healthy" yellow milkmaid to Whit's wife, and I'll put the original one back together and continue to cherish the memory it holds for me.
Whit's Hickey
On Saturday evening, I showed up (unfashionably & rudely late) to our dear friends house for their twins 5th birthday party. We were so late because my three oldest children were having a very difficult time cleaning up the messes they had made throughout the day. As a result, the baby had not been changed, had not been fed and was basically neglected until we got to the party when I: A) began to completely neglect and ignore the oldest three children and B) there were caring and loving people there to rescue poor Whit and tend to his needs.
Ok, that's not entirely true - I did nurse Whit and change him. It should be noted here that usually after nursing, Whit likes to have a little chaser of some formula. After nursing my chubby buddy, I left him to the Griffins who were more than happy to entertain my littlest guy. And they did such a good job of it, I totally forgot about Whit needing his chaser. After getting my oldest three to eat, ridiculously loud sucking sounds reminded me to make Whit a bottle, so I got that ready for him and Miss B. graciously fed him.
Much later in the evening I was nursing Whitaker and I noticed a bruise on his arm. Several other ladies noticed the bruise too. We all were twittering (in this instance twittering is used the old fashioned way - an adjective used to describe a way women make a fuss over something) over Whit and wondering how in the world this poor little creature could have gotten such a bruise. My only thought was that in the nursing process that perhaps he got pinched by my rings. We continued to speculate when Mr. T strolled through the kitchen and past all of us twittering ladies says, "It's a hickey."
"WHAT?"
"Remember, after you nursed him and we were holding him, he was up on my shoulder and sucking his arm. Remember, he was making such a loud sucking noise that you remembered he needed a bottle?"
"Oh yes, now I remember," I respond to Mr. T as I feel guilt and shame for not feeding my child and causing him to suck his arm so hard that he gave himself a bruise.
I then went into the other room to enlighten my husband as to why our ittie bittie baby boy had a horrible bruise. It was from his mother's neglect. Erik's response:
"Well, I guess that's why your certain parts of the female anatomy hurt. That baby has a strong suck!"
He said it with such surprise, it struck me that perhaps the physical evidence of my cracked and bleeding certain parts of the female anatomy, my doubling over in pain when nursing, and the bottles of lansinoh I used were not enough proof that the baby sucking caused MUCH pain. That all of a sudden he finally believed that nursing was painful and I wasn't lying.
Thankfully, I did not dwell on his "revelation" regarding the nursing process and instead focused on the feeling of satisfaction you get as a parent when you discover the cause for an inexplicable bruise - relief that should any Child Protective Services official question you, you do indeed have an explanation for each mark on your child's body and no one will be taking your children away from you . . . today.
Then I gathered up all of my children, managed to get them all home and safely to bed. Another superior day of parenting under my belt.
Ok, that's not entirely true - I did nurse Whit and change him. It should be noted here that usually after nursing, Whit likes to have a little chaser of some formula. After nursing my chubby buddy, I left him to the Griffins who were more than happy to entertain my littlest guy. And they did such a good job of it, I totally forgot about Whit needing his chaser. After getting my oldest three to eat, ridiculously loud sucking sounds reminded me to make Whit a bottle, so I got that ready for him and Miss B. graciously fed him.
Much later in the evening I was nursing Whitaker and I noticed a bruise on his arm. Several other ladies noticed the bruise too. We all were twittering (in this instance twittering is used the old fashioned way - an adjective used to describe a way women make a fuss over something) over Whit and wondering how in the world this poor little creature could have gotten such a bruise. My only thought was that in the nursing process that perhaps he got pinched by my rings. We continued to speculate when Mr. T strolled through the kitchen and past all of us twittering ladies says, "It's a hickey."
"WHAT?"
"Remember, after you nursed him and we were holding him, he was up on my shoulder and sucking his arm. Remember, he was making such a loud sucking noise that you remembered he needed a bottle?"
"Oh yes, now I remember," I respond to Mr. T as I feel guilt and shame for not feeding my child and causing him to suck his arm so hard that he gave himself a bruise.
I then went into the other room to enlighten my husband as to why our ittie bittie baby boy had a horrible bruise. It was from his mother's neglect. Erik's response:
"Well, I guess that's why your certain parts of the female anatomy hurt. That baby has a strong suck!"
He said it with such surprise, it struck me that perhaps the physical evidence of my cracked and bleeding certain parts of the female anatomy, my doubling over in pain when nursing, and the bottles of lansinoh I used were not enough proof that the baby sucking caused MUCH pain. That all of a sudden he finally believed that nursing was painful and I wasn't lying.
Thankfully, I did not dwell on his "revelation" regarding the nursing process and instead focused on the feeling of satisfaction you get as a parent when you discover the cause for an inexplicable bruise - relief that should any Child Protective Services official question you, you do indeed have an explanation for each mark on your child's body and no one will be taking your children away from you . . . today.
Then I gathered up all of my children, managed to get them all home and safely to bed. Another superior day of parenting under my belt.
Randomness 1-16
1) I would not have made it through the last 4 weeks without the help of my very good friend seen here:
I only have one at lunch time and somedays I want to cry with joy at the cold fizz sliding down my throat. Most days I'm praying that the cold fizz will provide me that extra boost around supper time, as all mother's know is the "witching hour" when I'm at my most tired and all hell seems to break loose in and around the house.
2) Whit is an absolute angel. He sleeps and eats and dirties diapers. He's just starting to have more "awake" time during the day and shows extreme fascination with my hair line. I highly suggest to all blond mothers that they color their hair dark because infants find the contrast between the white of the forehead and the dark of the hairline irresistible. People comment all the time on how intently Whitaker watches his Momma. I smile and say "Thanks" but I know the reality is that the contrast on my hairline is what is most interesting to him.
3) Potty training a 2 1/2 year old in the weeks after his new baby brother is born is a stupid thing to try to do. Maybe I will write a book: The Eight Stages of Potty training:
1) Excitement: In this phase, both parents and child are excited to start the process
2) Encouragement: In this phase the parents try to encourage each other and the child to keep trying.
3) Bribery: In this phase, parents attempt to bribe the child with candy and toys to use the potty consistently
4) False Accomplishment: In this phase, the child has consistently gone to the potty several days in a row and has successfully been wearing underwear with no accidents. This phase lasts just long enough to get parents excited that they have officially potty trained said child.
5) Regression: In this phase, the child starts pooping and peeing in his pants again.
6) Exasperation: In this phase, parents are tired and worn out. Mom is especially tired of changing underwear and washing them but is equally tired of cleaning up poopy diapers. This is usually when parents tell their friends they think something is wrong with their child and that "this one" probably won't be going to college. In fact, they are pretty sure the kid won't even make it to Kindergarten because he won't use the toilet.
7) Denial: In this phase parents deny that they have started the potty training process. The phrase, "He'll let us know when he's ready" is thrown around a lot to grandparents and neb-nose friends who want to compare kids achievements and gloat that their kid has been potty trained since he was 18 months!
8) Acceptance: In this stage the parents just accept that they will not be potty training this child any time soon. They give up and buy another jumbo pack of 100 size 5 diapers. Three diapers into that jumbo pack of diapers, the child will decide he wants to wear big kid underwear and use the toilet all of the time and will potty train himself in a matter of minutes. Parents will then accept that they are stuck with 97 size 5 diapers.
Right now we are in the Exasperation phase and rapidly approaching the Denial phase. My hope is that the Acceptance phase will be fast. It seemed to work with Walker - as soon as we "gave up" on potty training, he started going on the potty all the time. And just so I don't feel like a total failure in the potty training department, I'd like to point out that Maggie was potty trained at 18 months. We won't discuss the fact that her being potty trained had nothing to do with me other than me forgetting to pack diapers for her one day when she was visiting her grandmother and Mimi put a pair of underwear on her and she never looked back!
I'm still taking credit for it!
4) I got Mastitis this time around and boy was it awful. I felt the milk duct getting clogged on a Thursday night - tried to circumvent the mastitis by using warm compresses, pumping or nursing every hour, etc., but to no avail. I woke up Friday with a mild fever and by afternoon had a temperature of 103. I attempted to get to the Walgreen's clinic and the new FastER care emergency center - Walgreen's staff was at lunch and the new FastER care did not take my insurance yet. So, I had to come back home, wait for Erik to get home from work and then drive myself to the ER where I was given IV fluids and IV antibiotics and waited for blood tests to come back. Luckily, the infection hadn't affected my blood counts so I was able to go home with a prescription for an antibiotic and instructions to REST! Easier said than done, but I was feeling much better by Saturday morning. Sunday was even better, but I was so tired still. Now I'm all healed and feel much better.
5) I don't remember feeling so tired with the previous three babies. I guess running after three kids and then tending to an infants midnight feeding demands is really exhausting.
6) I forgot how much I love my hair postpartum. It is even thicker and longer and curlier. It will start falling out soon and look gross for a while until my hormones level out again.
7) The "big" kids have been so great with Whit. They love him dearly and try to help me out as much as possible. The possibly love him too much!
8) I am both bothered and glad that Walker has still had school this past week. It has been nice to still have a routine where I have to get him on the bus and to school and the three "little" kids all go down for a nap in the afternoon, but I feel like he is missing out on summer. We went to visit my mom for a quick overnight Saturday to Sunday and the weather was so gorgeous and it was so relaxing sitting at my Papa's pool and letting the kids swim with their cousins. I wanted to stay a few more days but we had to get back so Walker could finish school. He'll be done Friday and then we'll really start having some fun!
9) I already worry about what type of relationship I will have with Maggie as she grows up.
10) I worry more about how we're going to afford to feed three boys!
11) Whit had jaundice when he first came home from the hospital and the visiting Nurse and the PA at the pediatrician's office said they wanted me to supplement my nursing schedule with formula. Ever since, I've been giving him a formula bottle about once a day and each time I prepare the bottle, I think how easy it is to do and have about three seconds where I think about giving up nursing. Then I feel guilty.
12) Walker devastated me a week ago by getting a "buzz" cut. In my opinion he was scalped! I cried when he walked in the door. I'm still having a hard time getting used to this "hair cut." Thank goodness it has grown in so much already!
13) We did a family photo at my Mom's house the other day. Walker was having a particularly difficult time getting in the mood of posing for pictures. His dad gave him a little lecture and my sister managed to catch it on film. This is one of those photos that needs no words - you can tell right from the start the jist of what is going on. It will be one of those timeless photos we have in our album.
14) Me and my sisters:
15) All the grandkids & Nana enjoying their favorite "toy" at Nana's:
16) My blessings:
Goodness Grew!
We've got a joyful addition to our lives!
Whitaker Scot Schwalm joined us May 26th.
What a blessing.
The doctor called about 8:30 that morning and said some test results indicated that it would be in my best health to go ahead and deliver today. So, by 10 am we were at the hospital getting ready. My mom and sister got there shortly after we did! It was crazy. I guess they were pretty excited.
This picture of my mom makes me cry a little because she looks so much like my Grammie (her mom) - which is unusual because most people say my mom takes after her dad (my Papa). I actually took this picture from my recovery bed - she was busy posing for my sister, but from my angle, I saw this and wanted to have a copy for myself.
My mom was such a trooper this week. I am so grateful for her giving up her routine and comfort for me to come out and care for the older three children while I was at the hospital and so Erik could work one day. She made sure Walker got to school on time and clean, kept my wild middle two occupied and happy, and did odds and ends around the house so Erik wouldn't get overwhelmed and I would be OK with the state of the house when I got home from the hospital. She kept on top of laundry and even cleaned the laundry room (which was Erik's responsibility). When she and Erik left the hospital on Wednesday night, I felt horrible because I had not gotten around to finishing some of the chores I had wanted to have done in order for her to stay comfortably with us. I had washed the bedding for her room, but didn't get it put on the bed and I wanted to either get her a good fan or possibly an air conditioner to use while she was with us too because I knew it was going to be so stinking hot and she is like me and would rather be freezing cold than too hot. We don't have central air conditioning and survive with two window A/C units - one in our bedroom and one in the sun room which we can block off from the rest of the house with our pocket doors. I just felt awful that she wasn't going to be comfortable sleeping at our house. But I was relieved to hear that she had thought ahead and brought her own fan with her. Erik said it sounded like a small jet engine blowing away in there, so I hope she managed to stay semi cool and comfortable. There are not words to thank her for helping us out so much and I'm overwhelmed with gratitude that she wants to take the older three again this week - this time taking them to her house to stay for a few days while I continue to rest, recover and bond with Whit.
I had some minor mix ups in the delivery room and there was a delay in me getting an epidural. In an attempt to give me some comfort, the nurses tried giving me stadol (which I had already told them didn't work) but I was in such pain and emotionally drained that I caved and let them give it to me. It was the wrong choice and I was left feeling drunk and having contractions. I also look drunk and unsteady post delivery from it wearing off.
Erik was so funny during the labor. I knew he was terribly uncomfortable with me being in such pain, but he just didn't know what to do or say and became so withdrawn - which is so unlike him. He was very brave and was by my side which was all that I needed.
This guy is totally in love with his new baby brother and has shown no jealousy so far. This is a picture of him shushing everyone in the room because we were being too loud for his baby. He has a cute saying and will ask, "Momma? I soft him?" about the baby. This request is for permission to touch heads with Whit and rub against him - kind of like a cat does. It's pretty cute.
Miss Maggie May is quite the big sister and is prepared to take over for me in the event I should become unable to fulfill my obligations.
Our precious little guy. He has no neck and several chins.
and blond highlights to his hair.
He sucks his fingers for comfort.
And he is the final piece to my heart.
Catch up
It feels like the last two months have been a whirlwind! We've been busy enjoying warm weather and enduring the ups and downs of the temperature. We've also been working through a few weeks of various illnesses. Maggie & Will came down with the 24 hour stomach flu, thankfully not at the same time. Walker had a bout of what I believe was Fifths Disease, which then led me to a series of blood work to determine if I have an immunity to the disease (I am) and general life on the farm! We ordered 50 broiler chickens to raise for our own consumption and hopefully to sell to customers. Erik has been super busy with his landscaping business as well as keeping our other customers happy. In addition to the Burmese families that come to the farm to purchase their meat, we've been approached by a young man from the Pittsburgh area who is opening a gourmet market in the Strip District featuring hard to find meats/delicacies. He has put in an order for a variety of things: Ducks, geese, goat, in addition to specialty items like lamb belly (he makes a bacon out of it) and is even looking for venison, game birds, etc. Erik is doing his best to accommodate him, but finding a lot of these animals on demand is hard! It is kind of ironic that the game animals that Pennsylvania has been so well known for are so hard to find through domestic resources.
We've had two ultrasounds and as of May 13th, the baby was estimated to weigh 7 lbs 13 ounces. That measurement was taken about three weeks before my due date. Baby's gain about half a pound a week the last four weeks of gestation, so factoring that in, we're looking at a pretty big baby - about 9 lbs give or take! I'm not really worried about it - have you met the children I've already birthed? They are peanuts! We are actually struggling right now with Walker because he has graduated up to the official "Olympic" pool at the YMCA for his swim lessons. Unfortunately, the Olympic pool is kept at 80 degrees and he finds it freezing! We've tried using those rash guard shirts to keep him warm, but it just doesn't work. He's such a skinny little fellow and by the end of the 40 minute lesson, his lips, fingertips and toes are purple from cold! Unfortunately, the class he is in is a mix of kids that have graduated from preschool swimming classes and youth ages 6 and up that have never taken lessons before. His class has two inexperienced swimmers in it, which makes it difficult for the instructor to really provide much additional instruction. He's too busy convincing the one student to move away from the wall and encouraging the other student to actually move his arms and legs. This situation has been a real challenge for me because I want to interfere somehow because I feel the rest of the class is being treated unfairly. They end up swimming the length of the pool and are left waiting at the end for the beginner students to catch up. It's especially frustrating because Walker used to LOVE swimming lessons and now he cries and complains each week when I tell him we have to go to lessons. He hates being that cold. In fact, this past week, the instructor said that next week will be report card week, so that means only two more weeks of class. Walker burst out with a "HOORAY!" when the instructor made the announcement. Now I'm torn between registering him for class again. My hope is that he will advance to the next group and leave the beginners behind but my fear is that the instructor, really having no time to evaluate the entire class on their progress, will not see that Walker would benefit from advancement into a more active class. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.
The wait and see portion of parenting is the hardest for me to deal with. I like to look at the calendar and make plans for what is going to happen. (More like make plans for what I want to happen!)
All six of our puppies have found homes. HOORAY! I was a little sad to see them go, but I know they all have wonderful new homes and are loved. That's a good feeling for sure.
Walker has been taught how to mow grass and has been mowing it every week now. We felt bad because we kind of scared him to death, lecturing him about the responsibility of mowing grass, how the other kids, dogs, etc. were not to be in the yard when he mowed, he was NEVER EVER EVER allowed to mow without our permission, and all the other bad things we could think of to scare him into being safe (like accidentally mowing off his leg, or his brother's leg). But, we think he got the message and he did a great job of mowing! He's very conscientious of what he is doing and I'm very proud of him for doing such a great job!
We've had two ultrasounds and as of May 13th, the baby was estimated to weigh 7 lbs 13 ounces. That measurement was taken about three weeks before my due date. Baby's gain about half a pound a week the last four weeks of gestation, so factoring that in, we're looking at a pretty big baby - about 9 lbs give or take! I'm not really worried about it - have you met the children I've already birthed? They are peanuts! We are actually struggling right now with Walker because he has graduated up to the official "Olympic" pool at the YMCA for his swim lessons. Unfortunately, the Olympic pool is kept at 80 degrees and he finds it freezing! We've tried using those rash guard shirts to keep him warm, but it just doesn't work. He's such a skinny little fellow and by the end of the 40 minute lesson, his lips, fingertips and toes are purple from cold! Unfortunately, the class he is in is a mix of kids that have graduated from preschool swimming classes and youth ages 6 and up that have never taken lessons before. His class has two inexperienced swimmers in it, which makes it difficult for the instructor to really provide much additional instruction. He's too busy convincing the one student to move away from the wall and encouraging the other student to actually move his arms and legs. This situation has been a real challenge for me because I want to interfere somehow because I feel the rest of the class is being treated unfairly. They end up swimming the length of the pool and are left waiting at the end for the beginner students to catch up. It's especially frustrating because Walker used to LOVE swimming lessons and now he cries and complains each week when I tell him we have to go to lessons. He hates being that cold. In fact, this past week, the instructor said that next week will be report card week, so that means only two more weeks of class. Walker burst out with a "HOORAY!" when the instructor made the announcement. Now I'm torn between registering him for class again. My hope is that he will advance to the next group and leave the beginners behind but my fear is that the instructor, really having no time to evaluate the entire class on their progress, will not see that Walker would benefit from advancement into a more active class. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.
The wait and see portion of parenting is the hardest for me to deal with. I like to look at the calendar and make plans for what is going to happen. (More like make plans for what I want to happen!)
Walker has been taught how to mow grass and has been mowing it every week now. We felt bad because we kind of scared him to death, lecturing him about the responsibility of mowing grass, how the other kids, dogs, etc. were not to be in the yard when he mowed, he was NEVER EVER EVER allowed to mow without our permission, and all the other bad things we could think of to scare him into being safe (like accidentally mowing off his leg, or his brother's leg). But, we think he got the message and he did a great job of mowing! He's very conscientious of what he is doing and I'm very proud of him for doing such a great job!