Word

• As you can see, I'm doing some construction on my blog.  I'm feeling the urge to work on it and maybe pretend that I'm an actual blogger by doing more than one post every three months.  If you are worried about having enough time to read my witty thoughts, don't.  I'm sure it will pass before I get anything real done.
• For the first time ever, I have most of my Christmas shopping done!  And it is only December 3rd.  Feels good.  I'm hoping to save myself all those annoying little last-minute trips for one or two things that seem to escape my mind until the 22nd.
• I love my kids.  All of them.  Really.  I just wish they would let me get some sleep at night!
• Do you ever get that paranoid, insecure feeling that abounds in 7th grade where you suddenly think that your friends don't really like you--that they merely tolerate you?  I'm going through some of that right now.
• Pie, pie pie!  November and December are all about pie, right?  Honestly, I'm already a little pie-d out.  But if you want to make a really easy, knock-everyone's-socks-off, out-of-the-ordinary pie, try this easy chocolate chip cookie pie.
• I usually avoid Christmas radio as much as possible.  I'm more of a classic carol kind of girl.  I like the songs that are in the hymn book and really could do without Rudolph and Frosty.  However, my kids love any song that has anything to do with Christmas so I'm tolerating them this year.
• Chad and I are planning on spending some of his bonus on a new bed: mattress, headboard, bedding, the whole works.  Only I can't find a comforter or quilt that I like.  Any suggestions of where to look?  I figure I need to find that before I can do anything else.  I also figure that once I do find something I like, I'll want to paint, get new curtains, new furniture, new stuff on the walls--because that is what we call snowballing, people.  WORD!  

(P.S. I really do have some good ideas for posts, so keep me motivated by leaving comments.  A writer needs an audience, after all!)

Owen's Newborn Photo Shoot

I had one of my best friends and neighbors, Taisha Ostler, take pictures of Owen when he was eleven days old.  I think they turned out so cute!  Here are just a few:

I am loving this chubby, happy, easy-going baby boy.  I have a lot more to say about him, but I'm planning on saving it for a future post.

Welcoming Owen

Baby Owen Roger is here!  And has been for over two weeks.  You know I'm not the most dedicated blogger!  He was born at 11:11 a.m. which is pretty cool and weighed a whopping 9 lbs 2 oz.

The birth story: I just knew this baby was going to come just a little bit early.  Or at least on his due date like his big sister did.  I just knew it.  So you can imagine my bitterness when all those dates came and went.  Luckily I had scheduled an induction for two days after my due date on a Tuesday.  So Monday I cleaned my house, packed up my kids and shipped them to Grandma's.  Chad and I went to dinner and walked our fannies off running errands.  We bought milk and eggs and a few things.  I was deeply uncomfortable.  I'm pretty sure I was having contractions the whole time and wondered if I'd be one of those ironic stories where I go into labor on my own only hours before a scheduled induction.  Nope.

The next morning we woke at 5:30 a.m.  We were told to be ready to go at six when we were supposed to call the hospital.  So we called at six and they told us to come in at seven.  We were bummed we didn't get that extra hour of sleep.  I started having some good contractions about ten minutes apart, but they had gone away by time we got to the hospital. Good thing I had an induction ready!

They started my drugs at 8:00 a.m.  They took awhile to get going.  I labored for two hours and I could tell it was going to take all day.  My contractions were painful, but not crazy and they were still three minutes apart.  I told the nurse I needed to have my water broken.  At ten, I got the epidural.  Epidurals tend to not work great for me, so I thought this one felt promising when both my legs were pretty tingly ten minutes later.  At 10:30, my doctor finally came and broke my water.  She told me I was at a four.  The nurse said to call if I felt any pressure and left.  Well, at 10:45 I started to hurt--bad.  I could feel the contractions and I could feel pressure.  I finally called the nurse in at 10:50.  She checked me and said, "Oh, boy."  We were ready to go.  Only no one else was.  The nurse called the Dr and a few other people came in and they scrambled to get all the delivery stuff set up.  I sat in agony for another fifteen minutes waiting for them.  Finally, I could push.  Only, that darn epidural wasn't doing squat!  I could feel everything.  It took three good pushes to get him out and I was crying pretty hard.  When they told me how much he weighed, it was no wonder.

The nurses took forever getting Owen weighed and warmed and whatever else they do.  I seriously wanted to yell at them to give me my baby already.  They finally did.  My sweet, chunky, furry baby.  Chad and I both deducted that if my water ever breaks on its own, we will probably be delivering our own baby.  Heaven forbid.

Meeting the family:  Our families were busy that day so Chad and I actually had quite a few hours just to be with the three of us.  Everyone finally came right after dinner.  My family came first.  Then Chad's family came about half hour later with Lydia and Russell in tow.  They both walked in and kind of reverently looked at the baby.  Then Russell looked at me and said, "Can we take him home?"  So, so sweet!  Lydia held him for a bit, but Russell didn't want to.  He wanted me to hold him instead.  So I enjoyed having my sweet 2-year-old sit in my lap while everyone looked at the baby.  I can't tell you how much bigger and older Russell seemed after the baby.  So weird.

Coming home: The first few days with Owen home were peaceful since my other kids were still at Grandma's.  But I always have the weirdest sense of displacement when I have another baby.  It's like my mind and body know that my life will never be the same and I just can't quite seem to get a handle on anything.  My body feels empty from losing that baby and as strange as it sounds, my family feels like something is missing though we've actually just added a member. Does anyone else feel that weird lonely feeling when they bring home babies?

The next week I got mastitis and was, of course, fed up with nursing and how painful it was.  In case you weren't aware, nursing is my nemesis.  It is, for me, by far, the worst part about having a baby.  So I was at the end of my rope when Owen turned six days old.  Luckily I got some help from a lactation consultant, drugs for my infection, and things got better from there.

Owen's second week of life found me hauling all three kids to the library and Target and feeling like super mom.  It was a great feeling.  I don't feel like that everyday, however.  Most days I wake up exhausted and I'm quite ornery with my older kids for needing me when I feel so tired.  I need to work on being happier despite my fatigue for their sake.  Poor things.  Owen likes to eat every two hours or so.  Sometimes every three so I get very tired of feeding him.  He was doing longer stretches at night, but seems to have hit that growth spurt because he is waking just as often at night now too.  Hopefully more sleep is around the corner because I'm feeling way too old to live on these 90 minute naps around the clock.  Nursing is going a bit better and I think we'll make it.  I don't suppose it will be easy or comfortable for a few more weeks though.

Here we all are.  Family of five.  I am so swollen from all the fluids they pumped into me, but I can say that not being pregnant is great, I love all three of my kids, adore my husband, and know that I am very blessed--even if I am very tired.

Word

• I'm officially 39 weeks pregnant!  I'm hoping the baby comes this week though I'm probably setting myself up for disappointment.  I'm just so tired of being so enormous, having people stare at me everywhere I go, and anticipating something that I have no control over.
• My husband rocks.  We CLEANED our house on Saturday.  I mean wiping floorboards, walls, and cupboards as well as steam-cleaning the upholstery kind of clean.  Chad did the worst jobs and indulged me by letting us eat out that night so I didn't have to mess up my clean kitchen.
• I found a couple of new dinner recipes that turned out much better than usual.  This taco casserole was a big hit, and today I tried this meatloaf that was worthy of a return appearance at the dinner table.  You're welcome.
• Lydia seriously thinks she is smarter than I am.  If we tell her she does something smart (which she often does--she really is smart for her age) she says, "That's cuz I'm the smartest of all!"  Today when I complimented her on remembering to bring a water bottle with us on our walk she said, "That's cuz I'm smarter than you."  I don't think I appreciate those comments.
• Russell randomly told me he loved me in sacrament meeting today.  Then he told Chad the same.  The sweetest words in the world are "I love you, Mommy."  
• Summer TV stinks!  I'm so glad this is an Olympic year so I'll have something to watch when I have to sit down and nurse the baby.  I love the Olympics!!
• If, IF, we have another baby, I'm going to aim for a winter baby.  I know you have to worry about illnesses and such, but so far, every baby I've had has been such an inconvenience in some way.  Both Russell and Lydia were in their last weeks of gestation when I had to attend a family wedding and this summer I could be out doing a bajillion things with Chad's sisters (even the out-of-staters are here this summer!), but I can't because giving birth is imminent.  Annoying, yes.  I think February sounds good. Nothing ever happens in February.
• Word.  That's all I've got this time.  I'm sure it was wholly worth your time.  But, the good news is, the next time I post, it should be about our new baby boy! 

Branding Weekend

We went out to the ranch the first weekend in May to brand the cows.  Chad and I were surprised at how many people were shocked to find out that Chad is part cowboy!  Though it has become a small part of his life (maybe a few times a year), Chad was once a full-time rancher.  Here we are in our cow-lovin' glory!

 This year, the calf branding was especially exciting since they had to be roped, thrown, and then branded.  We had ourselves a little rodeo!

Now isn't that just a picture of a man's man?

Lydia loves her cousin Josi.  BFFs for sure!

 My kids have learned to say "Cheese!" and give me a big cheeser whenever I take their picture.  Kinda cute, kinda silly.

Both kids could not WAIT to get on the horses.  They had to wait all morning while the real riders got the cows off the mountain.  The big moment came......and they were both scared to death.  Such chickens.  They only stayed on long enough to get a quick photo.  Maybe next year.

I must say my kids had a lot of fun and were really well-behaved once we actually got them out to the corrals where all the action was.  We, as in the moms and kids, got put into our own little corral so we wouldn't get run over and the kids happily climbed fences, ate cheese puffs, and got incredibly dirty while they watched the work going on.  I tried to enjoy it since next year I'll have a nine-month old to watch after. And that my friends, is life at the Kimber ranch--at least once a year anyway.

Update: 25 weeks

In case you haven't heard from facebook:  We are having a BOY!  I tell you I was a little shocked when we had the ultrasound; I thought it was a girl.  But besides that, I thought that Russell would be my only boy because that  is how it goes in our family.  However, I am thrilled we are having a boy (that is secretly what I wanted anyway).  Russell needs a little brother to slap around because Lydia just doesn't appreciate him in that regard.  Lydia was, of course, devastated that she didn't get her baby sister.

Now I am 25 weeks pregnant (no pictures, please!).  I feel ENORMOUS!  Everyone says I look good or that my bump is cute, but I tell you, it would be a lot cuter if it was the 30 week bump it looks like it is!!  I am honestly scared for those last few months of this thing.  Right now, I am still going to the gym five days a week for the various classes I go to.  It is getting a little harder to maneuver, but I'm still in it.  People have been asking me when I am due and are always surprised at how much I still have left.  With that said, I'm hoping my stomach doesn't give way to endless stretch marks and forever-fatigued skin that hangs for the rest of my life.  I am seriously considering going on a diet or something.  Not a real diet, just more of a dessert-free kind of diet like we should all consume.  But this baby craves sugar.  And not just a little.  Sigh.

To scare myself just a little more, I just looked at pictures of myself at the end of my previous two pregnancies.    Yep, definitely scary.  YIKES!  Please wish me luck!

Turning 30

It happened.  I turned thirty.  It is what it is and there is nothing I can do about it.  Maybe I wouldn't care so much if I didn't look like I was thirty.  When I look at my freshly-washed face--a face that used to look just fine with nothing on it--I can't help but despair at the loose, porous skin, the dark patches above my eyelids, or the ever-feared wrinkles around my eyes and mouth.  To top it all off, I have a fantastic case of pregnancy acne and a small rash on the left side of my upper lip.  And let's not even get started with what is going on underneath my clothes!

On the flip side of turning thirty, I feel that I am a much better person that I was when I turned twenty.  The last decade held so many learning opportunities for me as I went from student to missionary, newlywed to mother.  It was an endless decade of growth where I've learned to be more generous, less judgmental, more passionate in loving my growing family, and more confident with myself.  I've learned that I actually don't like to scrapbook, play basketball, and a host of other things I found myself doing just because my friends do.  I've learned that I would much rather read a book than accomplish anything else, I prefer to run by myself, and that I don't miss my kids while they are in school.  And that is just fine by me!  Though I do miss the agility, energy, and flawless complexion of my early twenties, I do enjoy feeling that I am closer to discovering who I am supposed to be.

Now, wouldn't it be great if our inner accomplishments had physical manifestations?  What if every time I learned to be more grateful or more generous, my skins glowed a little more?  What if every time I treated my children and husband the way they deserved, I'd feel more fit and energetic? Of course, there are a host of moral problems with such a phenomenon.  How many of us would try to fake our way to beauty?  Or how many of us would try to do those things so that others wouldn't know our ugly insides?  It wouldn't work, but it would be nice if there were an easier way for women to enjoy aging and becoming.  I guess the true fault comes in the way our society worships beauty and sexuality over womanhood and character.  How grateful I am for the knowledge of the gospel and what really matters in the heart of a woman!

And while I am bound to despise those wrinkles and pores (I really just can't help it), I will try to look on my thirty years as a great accomplishment and hope that the next decade proves as fruitful!  To all my thirty-something (or soon to be) friends, here's to us!

Resolved? Not This Year!

For the past two years I have made New Year's Resolutions and posted them here for the world (or the three people who actually read my blog) to see.  And you know what?  I've done pretty well.  The first year I accomplished all but one (not eating treats) and last year I got all but three (cut sugar--I should just give up on that one, blog weekly--only nine posts all year!, and temple monthly--though I did go a little more often).

But this year, I'm not doing ANY.  Though there are certainly things I could work on.  I could just rewrite the goals about the temple, cutting sugar, and blogging more often.  I could also really use a good pep talk on being organized and doing more housework.  As I sit here, I can see the cheese crumbs on the counter from the nachos I made last night along with two apple cores that have long since turned brown.  On my desk in front of me are piles of coupons I cut out days ago and have yet to put into my coupon organizer.  That is how we have rolled as of late.  I drag myself out of bed, do a lot of talking to get myself to complete even a twenty minute workout (a few months ago I was doing 60-90 minute workouts everyday!), and take naps.  I can feel my waistline growing, my energy depleting, and I'm sure my kids think I am the most boring person on the planet.  That, or the one who yells the most.

But, even with all this, I still refuse to do it.  I refuse to do anything but survive this little math problem I've got going.  I've always been good at math, but this one is overwhelming.  And I figure it is going to take over my life all year long in one way or another.  So that is the only thing I'm willing to focus on as I forge into this new year.  See for yourself:

See my problem?  Little Bundle is due July 15 so I figure it will be 2013 before I get my act back together.  You'll just have to excuse me until then!