July 08 Movie

My Baby is 3!!!

Do you know how hard it is to convince a former two year-old that they are actually three years old now? REALLY HARD. This was all we talked about yesterday:

"Seara, you are three years old now!"
"No, two."
"Today is your birthday, you are three now."
"No! I'm two!"
"Fine, say you're two. But you're really three."

It took us long enough to try to explain that it was her birthday. Once she got that she announced she wanted a "butterfly birthday cake." Blast. Samuel and I aren't really big cake people. We like them just fine at someone else's house, but to make a gigantic cake for just the two of us to eat? Never. In fact, I have only made one cake our entire marriage. And half of it got trashed. We usually do cinnamon rolls, cheesecake, etc. for birthdays. I was actually planning on making Seara brownies. So a butterfly birthday cake?? Sorry, sweetheart. When it comes to birthdays you got a LAME mommy. I don't do cakes like Cara, or princess parties like Asialene, or pirate parties like Lyndi. (In case you are worried, I'm okay with my lameness. I have totally come to terms with it. Hopefully it doesn't take too long for the kids to to do so as well.) So I talked to Samuel and he made me butterfly stencils, and I sprinkled powdered sugar through them onto the brownies. (The brownies that we called cake because I didn't want to make cake. She doesn't know the difference - is that awful of us?) Here's a picture. Thanks to Sam, it turned out pretty cute. Albeit lame. :)


Well, my goof-ball of a baby is growing up. But she is still the same in a lot of ways. She is independent, stubborn, and hyper-focused (don't you try to distract her when she is mad!) She hates being comforted when she is upset and she hates people touching her stuff. She loves to hide in small places and to do things by herself. She makes up her own crazy words to songs and dances like a nut. (The dancing is not her fault - you should see Sam and I dance. He looks like a bobble-head doll and I look like I'm being electrocuted.) Man, we are crazy about her!!


I can't believe that Seara is three - but more than that I can't believe that she has TWO little brothers. What on earth were we THINKING??? :)

Eastern Excursion 1: Fort McHenry

Sam and I have decided that it would be sooooo lame to leave here a year or two from now without having really seen the East coast. So, I spent a lot of time this week looking up famous attractions in nearby states and popular tourist attractions here in Maryland, and I made a huge list of everything we want to do. We plan to do one a week until we run out of things to do (which should happen around Thanksgiving or Christmas if we don't add anything new). I plan to post about our trip each week and to include a small blurb explaining the site. That is partially for me and my journal, but mostly because I know you all desperately need lessons in both history and culture. You may call me Dr. Ricks. (Hey, professors get to be called Dr., and I definitely deserve a doctorate in baby-growing. So there.) Alright, here is Eastern Excursion, week 1:

FORT McHENRY

Fort McHenry is a star-shaped fort built after the American Revolution to protect the Port of Baltimore. The only attack on Fort McHenry happened during the War of 1812. Starting on September 13, 1814, British warships continuously bombarded the port for 25 hours during heavy rain. They finally withdrew on the morning of September 14th. When Francis Scott Key, who witnessed the bombarment, saw the American flag still standing that morning, he was so touched he wrote a poem called "The Defense of Port McHenry."

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

The poem was later set to the tune of the British song "To Anacreon in Heaven" and re-named "The Star-Spangled Banner." It is now a national tradition that whenever a new flag is designed, it first flies over Fort McHenry. (The first official 49 and 50 star flags were flown first over the fort.) The fort currently flies a replica of the original 15-star flag.

Numerated Ruminations (say that 10 times fast!)

Hmmm ... I started this post a week ago, so it kinda covers a big span of stuff. But here goes ...

1) Well, by two weeks Enoch didn't just recover his birth weight (which was 8lbs 3 oz) - he gained a POUND. (That's actually just an assumption, but at 13 days he weighed 9lbs 2 oz, so logic would have it that at that rate of gain, by 14 days he'd be 9lbs 3 oz. Okay, this was the long way to say it. But I'm trying to work on being more honest, so I had to do the full disclosure. There. I was completely, 100% honest. Ha.)


2) I loved my mother-in-law before, but now I REALLY love her. She was here for a week, and I don't think I changed a diaper other than Enoch's the entire time. (Yes, I have three kids in diapers right now. I also have a 2 year-old, a 1 year-old, and a 0 year-old. At least until tomorrow.) Bless her heart! (Does any one else think its funny that I look so much like my mom, and Sam looks so much like his?)


3) The kids love Enoch. I haven't had a single problem with them being jealous of him. For some reason, though, they seem to be duking it out with each other on a daily basis. And when they are mad at ME they like to hit the baby. At first I thought that made no sense, but now I get it. If you really want to get my goat, go after the innocent child. It works. But they seemed to figure that out before I did. Here is yet another 'kissing the baby' picture also known as a 'mauling the baby' picture. If you only knew how hard you have to hold those two back so that they don't smother Enoch!

4) Seara has decided that she wants to be a beautician when she grows up. See? She's already practicing giving facials and pedicures.

5) Elijah's new favorite phrase is "Let's do it!" It is really cute to hear him say it, but it can also be really frustrating. See, he'll say something like, "Ow-ssside!" And then I try to guess what he is saying by asking, "You want to go outside?" (Not because I want to go outside or because I am going to go outside, just because I want to understand.) And then he gets all excited and says, "Yeah! Let's do it!" (as if I was the one who made the suggestion) and runs to grab his shoes. So either I have to muster up the energy to take my three tiny kids outside, or else I have to deal with a toddler fit. Blah.

6) Seara's newest thing is ... well ... the conversations go like this:

[Looking at a picture of me from a few years ago]
"Lissa!" (That is my little sister)
"No, its mommy."
"It's kind of like Lissa, doesn't it."
"Um, yeah, it does look kinda like Lissa, doesn't it."

"Dragon fly!"
"That's actually a spider."
"It's kind of like a dragon fly, doesn't it."
"Yeah, I guess it is kind of like a dragon fly, isn't it."

"Blue cup!" (This time I know she knows the cup isn't blue.)
"It's a purple cup."
"It's kind of like blue, doesn't it."
"Well, yeah, purple is kind of like blue, isn't it."

"Purple lemon!" (Okay, she has gotta be playing games with me.)
"Lemons are yellow, silly!"
"It's kind of like purple lemons, doesn't it."
Now what do I respond?? I don't think yellow and purple are anything alike!

7) Am I the only person who actually believed that when I became an adult I would no longer break out? Or am I the only adult in the universe who still gets zits? Honestly. I thought the BABY was supposed to get the infant acne. Not the mom. Enough said.

Only 890 Left

Every Sunday.
After Sacrament Meeting.
I feel like standing up and doing this.
We made it through one more week.
Only 890 more until both Seara and Elijah are out of the house.

Changing my Name

When I got married I was a bit torn about changing my last name. On the one hand, taking Samuel's name seemed sooooo romantic. On the other had, I felt a bit disconcerted about giving up a name I loved. I was a Smith. Best last name EVER. No one said it wrong, no one spelled it wrong, no one teased you. I mean, I was grateful Samuel's last name was relatively benign (and not something awful ... like this really sweet kid in my high school whose name was VanWeird), but still. I did actually throw out the idea of Samuel taking my name (Sam Smith?) and he was sweet enough to say he would (probably just to appease me because we were engaged and because he knew I'd never really make him do it.) Today, however, I came across a very great reason to have taken his name.

Janae
* There are 4,569 people in the U.S. with the first name Janae.
* Statistically the 2762nd most popular first name.
* More than 99.9 percent of people with the first name Janae are female. (Thats a relief!)

Smith
* There are 3,064,500 people in the U.S. with the last name Smith.
* Statistically the 1st most popular last name. (Like I said. Best last name EVER.)

Janae Smith

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 46 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

I actually know two of the other Janae Smiths. One went to my dry cleaner. The other was a girl in my home ward also named Janae, who happened to marry a guy with the last name Smith. Weird, huh?!

Ricks
* There are 27,416 people in the U.S. with the last name Ricks. (And we're probably all related. Thank you Thomas E. Ricks - founder of Ricks College.)
* Statistically the 1298th most popular last name.

Janae Ricks

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 1 or fewer people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

One or fewer? Um, if I just said that was my name, how could there be fewer than one??

Still, I went from one of 46, to being the ONLY ONE in the U.S. (and probably the world) with my name (because obviously everything the internet tells you is true). Not half bad.

Enith ... I mean Enoch

You know, there are significant advantages to living far away from family. For example, people like me (aka. people who don't like to ask for help because that would be admitting that we cannot single-handedly take on the world) like the comfort of having family near because we know we can ask for help 'if we need it'. Problem is, when we need it we won't admit it. Living far away means that Mom comes out when the baby is born and you have to accept the help that you desperate need, and refuse to admit to. Until you are blogging about it to the entire world. :) So, my mom came out from Saturday July 5th to Saturday July 12th. Just a couple hours after her flight home took off, my mother-in-law arrived, and she will be staying until this Saturday, the 19th. I am well taken care of!


Enoch is growing and changing each day. Literally. He was 8lbs 3oz at birth, and ideally babies will recover their birth weight by their two week mark. (Babies lose quite a few ounces just after birth.) Well, at 8 days he weighed 8lbs 12oz. Yikes!! This kid is going to be HUGE! As you can see from the pictures, he is mostly bald (his brother and sister had much more hair at birth) and what hair he has is blond/strawberry blond (Sease and Lije had medium/dark brown hair at birth). He is not only really long height-wise, but he also has long fingers, and super longer toes. (Trenton, I think you've met your match!!) Obviously, he is my gift to the gene pool.


We have quickly discovered how many people know their Bible, and how many don't. Most everyone has said his name without any hesitation, but we've heard a few interesting variations of his name. 'E-knock' is the most common (I prefer to say 'E-nick'), but we did have a nurse in the hospital call him 'E-nith' and another at the pediatricians call him 'Eh-no-CH'. And at church they announced the birth of 'Enoch Olay', which made Samuel turn beet red. I just laughed because, heck, I grew up in South America and everyone always called my dad 'Olay'.

Enoch has gotten some really cute gifts - including this amazing quilt my Aunt Carol made in two days (or something ridiculously impossible like that).


He also got darling booties that my friend Jerry knitted for him. Enoch and I aren't the only ones who love the booties, though. Elijah likes to steal them for 'alternate' uses.


And then, of course, my Uncle Bryce quickly figured out that Enoch's initials are EOR. So he appropriately got the baby this:


Okay, and I just have to throw these pictures in. I normally don't put two similar pictures on the blog, but I can't help myself. These were my two favorite people this last week!

Grandmas & Blocks

Seara and Elijah had a fabulous time with Grandma Smith (my mom) this last week. For some reason, Seara's favorite grandma name to say is Grandma Baker (who is my maternal grandma). Well, at the first of the week she called my mom Grandma Baker, and I told her "That's not Grandma Baker! That's Grandma Smith!" So for the rest of the week Seara called her 'Not Grandma Baker'. I've tried and tried to get her to say Grandma Smith, but to no avail. So yesterday we were looking at pictures and I called my mom 'Grandma Dena'. (Mind you, my mother-in-law is here right now and she goes by Grandma Kaye.) Well, I said it ONCE, but Seara picked up on that one quickly and now yells "Grandma Dena!" every time she sees a picture of my mom. Sorry, mom. I'll keep working on her. :)


Okay, so one quick story. We have these traditional wood blocks, right? And the kids love to look at the pictures and talk about the letters, but they never build anything. (Probably because you can't get three blocks stacked without Elijah gleefully knocking them all over.) So this one afternoon Seara was playing all by herself in the toy corner. Elijah was napping, my mom was reading a book on one couch, I was holding Enoch on another, so no one was really watching her. Well, Seara eventually came out and began playing in the living room near us, and my mom went to the kitchen (where the play corner is) to get something. Suddenly my mom calls out, "Janae, you have got to come see this!" So I go into the kitchen and this is what I found:


Mind you, Seara has never built anything before. I was floored! Who knew she could do that?! We tried all week to get her to do it again, but she wouldn't. Then, during the window where my mom had left but my mother-in-law hadn't arrived yet, and while Elijah was stuck in his high chair, Seara made this:


She got those two blocks on, by the way. It fell over a couple levels later.

Kids say the darndest things!

The first time Seara saw me nursing the baby, she said to Enoch, "No, baby! Yucky!"

Elijah quickly discovered nursing pads and, when he gets a chance, will wear them on his head and announce, "Hat!"

Seara like to make up her own songs. Recent hits include "monkey, monkey, monkey, monkey" (and on and on) to the tune of I am a Child of God and "Once there was a snowman of God."

The baby arrives - AT LAST!!!

Alright - first the poll:

75 votes
33 BOY (44%)
42 GIRL (56%)

Now, I was about 99.8% positive the baby was a girl. But I also thought Seara was a boy and Elijah was a girl (at least until our ultrasounds, after that I was pretty convinced of their genders :). Well, it turns out that I still have a perfect record - of being wrong!!!

We have a new baby BOY!

Enoch Ole Ricks
(Enoch after the Biblical prophet, Ole after my dad.)
born Monday, July 7th
(phew! Barely missed my birthday!)
at 10:03 pm
(Barely, barely missed my birthday.)
8 lbs 3 oz
(HUGE!! I used to be the biggest family baby at 8 lbs 2 oz)
22 1/4 in
(and TALL!)

Our Growing Family - the next morning after Enoch was born

Enoch a few hours after birth - his little face is still a bit swollen from birth

Enoch's profile

Checking out the new baby

A preview of the mauling this poor child will receive over the next year ;)

Birth Details - for those who care

Most people won't really care to know the details, but some do, so this post is for you. I have to preface this with some explanations.

First, I love drugs. I planned on getting an epidural with Seara, and after going through an intensely painful labor just to progress from 3 cm to 4 cm, I was pretty sure I loved the anesthesiologist more than I loved Samuel. It was like repentance - from the most extremely intense pain to absolute relief and joy. I was a HUGE fan. And truthfully, I thought people who actually wanted to have a baby naturally were not just admirable, but also slightly insane. Then I had Elijah and didn't get the epidural until I was dilated to 9 cm (not by choice, I wanted it when I checked in the hospital at 7 cm, but we had some complications to overcome first). That was really hard, but I did it. And I was curious. As the memory of labor wore off, I got this idea that I wanted to have this third baby naturally. Why? The answer is pure and simple: curiosity. I wanted to know what it felt like, and I wanted to know if I could do it. I wasn't dead set, but I was pretty sure I wanted to do it without any drugs.

Second, you need to know that in my family our water sacks are made of teflon. For real. They just don't break of their own. My mom had eight kids and had to have her water broken every single time. I followed suit. With both Sease and Lije the doctor/midwife broke my water after I had the epidural.

Lastly, you need to know that I have prided myself on being a quiet laborer. Even as far as I got with Lije, I was nearly dead silent. Maybe a soft moan here and there, but never, ever grunting, groaning, yelling, etc. Not that I was necessarily judging those who were loud. I was just embarrassed for them that they would humiliate themselves like that. I was so proud of being so 'dignified' in labor.

Okay, now on to my delivery. On Monday morning I went to the midwife and found out I was dilated to 5 cm - but no sign of labor. (I love, love, love midwives, by the way. I used one with Lije, too. I still do hospital, epidural, etc. deliveries. And the midwife always has a supervising obstetrician in case a problem arises. But with Seara I had crowned and waited 45 minutes to push because the OB hadn't arrived yet. With Elijah the midwife arrived just after I checked in and spent my entire labor taking care of me - pushing for the epidural, massaging my feet, etc. It was a dramatically different - and wonderful - situation.) Okay, so I'm dilated to 5 cm and not in labor. I went home. And felt depressed.

At about 6:00pm I started having some cramping-like contractions. They hurt, but weren't debilitating in any way. I was aware of them, but not about to get my hopes up. So I just went on with life. At 8:30pm they suddenly - and dramatically - took a turn for worse. It was like someone flipped a switch. I went from being a little crampy, but just fine, to being in intense pain. I wanted to go to the hospital - RIGHT THEN. I thought Samuel would be home by then, but hadn't seen or heard from him. I waited a bit, then at 8:50pm called him. I announced that I needed to go to the hospital - and that I was absolutely CRAZY for thinking that I wanted to do this thing naturally. One hard contraction was enough to remind me that I had absolutely NO desire to know what full-fledged labor was like. Unfortunately, Samuel was still at school in Baltimore. He hopped in the car and broke probably every single law on the way home. By the time he got home at 9:20 I was writhing in pain and my mom was ready to call 911 to get an ambulance. I actually met him in the parking lot, and we rushed to the hospital. And I mean RUSHED. Forgive all the crazy drivers you encounter. You really never know if their wives are in full-fledged labor.

We got to the hospital at 9:41 pm. Because the valet parking service was closed by then, Samuel dropped me off at the front entrance. Unfortunately, the hospital was under construction and the entrance had been temporarily moved. Luckily the security guard office was right there. The men took one look at me, let me in, and dropped me in a wheelchair. The guard who took me to labor and delivery was 18 years old, and had only worked at the hospital for one week. I think I may have traumatized him for life. He pushed me and RAN to the elevators. An elevator door was closing just then, but this darling Catholic priest stuck his arm through the entrance just as it closed. It crunched his arm pretty good, but the door opened back up. God bless that priest. Once on the floor, the guard resumed his running. We got to labor and delivery, and every single nurse there came running. Within a minute I was wearing a hospital gown, laying in a bed, and having penicillin and IV fluids pumped into me. (The penicillin because I am beta-strep positive and I am supposed to get two doses of penicillin four hours apart while in labor, but prior to delivery, to ensure the baby doesn't get strep. The IV fluids because I needed at least one bag of fluid before I could get the epidural.) The nurse tried to see how far I was dilated, but couldn't tell because all she could feel was a bulging water bag.

The next twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of my life. I have never felt anything like that. Just writing about it makes me want to cry! Who knew how much pain a person could feel? The whole situation makes me feel extremely grateful for the Savior. How he survived the Garden of Gethsemane is absolutely incomprehensible to me. Anyway. I was in such intense pain that I was hyperventilating and my arms, face, and upper torso were going completely numb. Because my hands were cramping up, I was slowing the IV fluids. The midwife was there and she was AMAZING. She knew exactly what to say and do to keep me from going absolutely insane. Well, I soon figured out how to stop the hyperventilating. I screamed. And loud. It must have been bad because one of the nurses told me to stop screaming. I could have slapped her. The midwife was a lot nicer about it. She just said, "Okay, on this next contraction let's focus all that energy from screaming on pushing." Good idea. I didn't want anything more in the world than to push. (Well, except to die. I would have gladly taken that option.) The IV fluids were just finishing. The anesthesiologist wasn't going to make it in time.

Push one: my water broke. You will never know what a relief that was! In once instant all the pain and contractions were gone. I always heard that contractions get worse after your water breaks. Well, apparently not if you are fully dilated and the baby is on its way out. After the baby was born the midwife, nurses, and Samuel all kept commenting on how in control and calm I was about pushing. Well, no wonder I was. It didn't really hurt that much any more! Okay, yeah, I had the ring of fire thing (which feels exactly like that) and I felt like I was trying to push a train out of my body, but nothing could compare to those contractions.

Push two: the baby crowns.

Push three: not much happens. It was a wimpy push. I should have rested a bit after push two.

Push four: the midwife pulls the head out. What a relief!!! I feel relatively good, so I'm watching the whole thing (from my point of view and with the mirror they have set up so I can watch). That gave me a lot of stamina for pushing, I tell you what. It is very real when you actually watch.

Push five: the baby comes out!! (It is 10:03 - twenty two minutes since I arrived at the hospital. Its a really good thing my water didn't break earlier and that Samuel sped. We might have a had a highway birth!) The midwife announces that its a boy (I was floored!) and hands him to me (umbilical chord attached and all). The emotions you feel after delivering a baby completely naturally are absolutely amazing. Like nothing I have ever felt before, even having had two children. It is a combination of euphoria, relief, empowerment, ecstasy, elation, and peace. Wow. All the pain is drowned by emotion. It is absolutely amazing.

I got the baby for an hour and half before they whisked him off to be bathed and moved me over to mother baby. By midnight I was drugged up on Ambien, cuddling with my baby, and fast asleep.

So there you go. I gave birth naturally, broke my own water while pushing, and screamed like a banshee. But I survived. Would I do it naturally again? Never. I wouldn't mind pushing, I would love to feel the euphoria afterwards, but I never, ever, ever, ever, ever want to feel a contraction. Ever again. Next time I'm getting induced and having the epidural way before I feel any pain. :)

Just to add a visual, here are the post-birth pictures of Seara and Elijah:


Not the best pictures, but I don't look too bad. A bit tired, but pretty good. Now check this one out:

I love this picture. I look like I've just been through the most traumatizing experience (I just had) and I'm trying to look all beautiful like nothing has happened. What a completely fake smile. Lol!

By the way, recovery after natural birth really is so much faster than after an epidural. They took the IV out right after the baby was born, and since I didn't tear or have an episiotomy, I didn't have to get checked a thousand times at night. Plus, I could walk around right after the baby was born, and was able to get up and shower and get all ready with no trouble the next morning. I'm a big fan of that part of natural childbirth. Too bad it hurts so dang bad.

It can't get worse than this

Remember how I was supposed to be induced at 7:30 this morning? Ha. The hospital ended up having some 'emergency' inductions, and because mine is technically 'elective' I was bumped back to Wednesday. Just my luck. I am now walking around dilated to 5 cm. And no sign on labor. I have now been waiting for this baby to be born 'any day now' for five weeks. The freaking longest five weeks of my life. There was a lady in some third world country whose baby died in her womb and fossilized there, so she was pregnant for some 50 years. See? It can happen. I really may be pregnant forever.

Ugh

You were wrong. You thought I hadn't written in the blog because I had the baby and was either in the hospital or recovering. Nope. I'm here at home, cursing the day I got pregnant*, and visiting with my mother, who is here to help me with my non-existent baby. If I didn't have such a strong testimony of the importance of taking the sacrament and renewing my covenants, I would NOT go to church today. It was bad enough two weeks ago. Showing up today is downright humiliating. A few weeks ago I was nervous about going into labor, but now - BRING IT ON!! I don't care how much it hurts, I want this baby, and I want it now. And if you are in my immediate family you darn well better be fasting for me to have this thing soon. :)

Despite the fact that I didn't go into labor, we had a fabulous 4th of July. My mom's younger brother Bryce and my dad's younger sister Carol are married to each other (that is completely legal, by the way, and not gross in any way) and they live an hour away in Virginia. So, we spent the day with them. We had a fabulous time!! Carol took a ton of pictures (yay!) so here are some highlights:

A candid (obviously) picture of lunch at a 'park'. In Utah we would call this a forest.


The kids - Elijah is sitting on the arm rests of our chairs, and apparently quite comfortable.


Fireworks


"Look at the fireworks!" pointing from Lije with Seara terrified in the background.


Elijah LOVED the fireworks!


Okay, except some of them. The really big and bright ones were scary, so he closed his eyes.


I don't think 'terrified' does justice to the terror she felt!


By the end she started taking periodic peaks - but with just one eye.


Our patriotically dressed family.


*I'm not really serious about the cursing thing, in case you don't know me well and were worried.

Since I have nothing better to do

You know, having a 40 week pregnancy really wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't been told that I was dilated and should expect the baby any day A MONTH AGO. Needless to say, I am still here. If I've calculated correctly, between the fifteen children my mother, my sister, and I have, this baby is the second latest according to its due date. Second only to me. I was two days late. Bless my mother's heart. I continue to have debilitating braxton hicks contractions, which are obviously not leading to any progression. My mom's flight arrives on Saturday night, so I called and set an appointment to be induced on Monday morning at 7:30am. My birthday is on Tuesday, and I just couldn't bear the thought of going through torture labor on my birthday. By the way, you know all those tricks to get women to go into labor? Completely bogus. This last Saturday I did every single one that I knew of (except castor oil - that is nasty). That list includes taking a 1 hour, brisk, hilly walk; swimming laps at the pool; and bouncing on an exercise ball for four hours. By the end of the day I could hardly walk. Samuel had to help me into bed, and that was still so awful that I sobbed for a good five minutes just out of sheer pain. Still, no hint of going into labor.

And while I'm at complaining, why is is that you can never nap in peace with children? I try to lay on the couch, and before I know it Seara is sitting on top of me, bouncing on my ribs, and Elijah is head-butting my face, chin, head, etc. Makes a nap so much more peaceful, don't you think? Anyway, since I won't be up to blogging about all of us after this little one is born (which may never happen - I'm pretty sure I'm going to go in to be induced only to find out that I have a large tumor that has heart-like tremors) here is the latest:

Okay, so you know all about me. The only other thing bothering me lately is that people here only know me with short hair. Is that weird to any one else? I mean, they think of me as a short hair person. I don't even think of myself as a short hair person. Weird.

Samuel is busy with school. It is cute to see how excited he is about his classes. I mean kindergarten type cute. He comes home and can't wait to show me his 'projects'. I love it because I want to know all about everything he does! He has three classes this term:

(1) Visual and Verbal Rhetoric (about the relationship between text and images. They write papers in this class.)

(2) Hypermedia (which is basically learning xhtml and css so he can make his own website. He actually is doing just that for his final project.)

(3) Book Design (where they take texts and books and design everything from the front cover to all those blank and boring sheets in the beginning and end of a book. This is his favorite class, mostly because he got to do illustrations for the front cover and section heads inside his latest project.)


Seara can still sleep anywhere, as shown in the only picture I've taken in the last few weeks (above). She is pretty much exactly the same as when she was born, just more verbal. When I ask her to do something she doesn't want to do (which is rare because she is really quite obedient) she has started responding to me, "Dream on!" She also has taken up calling me her "best friend". I'm not sure where it comes from because I've never told her she is mine (sorry, sweetheart, Samuel already took that position), but I can't help but melt when she does it. She is also becoming a typical obsessed with the mirror two year-old. She will spend hours in front of the mirror, brushing her hair or powdering her face with my makeup brush, all the while saying to her self "So pretty! So beautiful!" Actually, is that typical? I assumed it was because ... well, not because I remember napping below a huge mirror in my room, just so I could stare at my "beautiful" self until I fell asleep, or anything like that. Not because I would do that. I just had 'friends' who did. They are typical, right? :)

Elijah is going through one of those really fast grow-up phases. The other day I was doing some stuff on the computer and he brought me this little tea pot and tells me, "Medicine." "Oh, is that medicine, Lije?" "Yeah!" "Okay." Then he grabbed Seara's baby, laid her gently on the couch, and proceeded to administer the medicine. When he was done he picked up the doll, and told her (quite clearly), "Good girl, baby! Hug!" and gave the little doll a hug. I think my kids are a little too familiar with medicine! Ooooh, and last Thursday he said "I love you" to me for the first time. Moments like that make nap moments not seem as torturous. :) He also has started taken up this really annoying habit of doing something naughty, and then making this melt-you face and saying "Nice!" like "Okay, I'm going to be nice now!" The worst part is, it actually works on BOTH Samuel and I. We're such wimps. Ooops!!!