Ode to Stina, the best baby sister in the world

Stina, You rock.

I loved you so much when you were born. You were really MY baby, I just never told anyone. I was only ten, but I felt like your mom.  Until I left for  college.  Though I missed those fun tween and teen years, you have grown up to be a great sister. Even for being a little sister. 

Thanks for spending half of your college break with us.  You just proved even more how you, Stina, ROCK.

Not just cause you changed Mark’s soupy pants for a week. (hey, it got better a few hours before you left). Not just cause you watched the kids so we could sleep in. Not just cause you made dinner and fed the kids…then later listened to the tears and frustration from another of my doctor appointments.

Thanks for laughing with me.  Thanks for making me laugh.  And laugh and laugh.  And laugh again when I realized that I gave the neighbors (I blogged about) a Christmas card with our blog address on it.  Oops.  Hehe!

Glad you actually enjoyed the 5:30 am Christmas morning gift opening. Sorry Emily's tap dancing in the kitchen woke you up.  Sorry I kept calling you Emily.  Or Katelyn.  Or Julie/Liza/Annie. Sorry!

Thanks for being the photographer for Christmas, so I got to enjoy every moment of the kids opening and playing with their new toys.

Thanks for giving me a reason to watch Twilight movie again. And I’m really happy that you became a convert, once you gave me no option but to make you see the movie. I choose now to forget that you did want to see it, it makes me feel more powerful.   Thanks for getting it when I was so happy with my twilight keychain and hung it from my car mirror.

Thanks for saying, “it has to be done, it’s Christmas day and it’s snowing” when I wasn’t so sure I had the humph to get the kids nor myself layered up to go out. It was so beautiful out there, with those fat, fat flakes of snow (looked like the fake movie stuff) covering the last foot we had. Thanks for the snow fort that will remind me of you for weeks until it melts.

 

The hot chocolate was perfect. I forgot what to do next, while I sat in my wet pants snow covered boots . I was so cold and tired I didn’t think I could have a reason to get up again.   Then you said, "Now it's hot chocolate time."  That was some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.

Thanks for saying “whatever” to meals, to activity, to lack of activity, to Grant and my argumentative style of conversation. “Whatever” CAN be a good word, really. Except when I really want your opinion on bread. What kind of break we buy for Christmas brunch really does matter.

Thanks for liking all your silly gifts. It was fun to shop for a college student. A flat of “cup-of-noodle”, some restaurant signs that would go great in any cool college student's apartment...or to use as a dating website photo.

Thanks for playing “Power Grid” with us….staying up late. I know it was long, but that second night when I won was so, so sweet. Now I’ve told you my secret stratagem, so I hope you win at Julie’s house.

Thanks for being bossed around by me, with no please and thank you’s as I asked for water or kid care. Thanks for watching Mark after he took his first steps. Thanks for not being the one he walked to first. I’m glad you’re forever in that memory of Mark’s first steps, on Christmas Eve, after Santa came…walking back and forth between us.

I know I’ll get post-happy-visit-disorder now that you are gone. But I hope by writing this, I’ll remember the good times.

And I will watch my back, since you haven’t gotten me back for throwing that snowball in your face. Sorry I laughed so hysterically that I might have wet myself, but it didn’t matter because my legs got weak.  And then I fell into the snow and laughed.  That was a great, great laugh. You were so sweet not to take revenge while I laid on the snow, face up, still laughing. It was a perfect shot for you, and you didn’t take it. Thanks.

Stina, you rock.   I'm so proud of you. Thanks for still being the kid I wished I had. 

Love, Rachel

So sad New Years

So I get back on the computer for the first time since Christmas.

Sleep, doctors, parenting, sleep, eating, sleep has kept me busy.

What do I find?
Babies born to early and struggling to survive. See Kings 25 week quads and Crisantis 32 week quads.

A father dead, leaving his son and family in turmoil.

The stress of holidays and the single getting to be to much.

The stress of new years resolutions
'
or worse,
a 2008 year in review. (thanks for making me cry, Sarah

I DON'T WANT TO REVIEW MY YEAR!
I didn't want to live it in the first place.
Revisiting it would be to hard.
But if I don't write it down, it could all be forgotten.

I started and ended 2008 with doctor appointments.
Celebrated New Years Eve in pain and on meds again. (stupid tooth crown)

I've got many more positive emails, just needing editing to be posted.
But so far 2009 isn't looking so good.

I want to know if Santa is real....

Christmas Eve we left a treat for Santa. The kids came up with all the ideas. A glass of Rice Milk in a snowman glass, with some chocolate bark a friend gave us. (Emily got it all together) Alex roasted extra marshmallows over our Christmas Eve fire...then put them in a yellow bowl with a spoon. Emily wrote the note to Santa. She added something extra this year, all on her own.

This is 5:30 am. Yes. Blame the girl with the paper. She woke up EVERYONE, including the baby and Aunt Stina. Thanks Emily, for tap dancing in the kitchen after you woke up the kids.

When I took this photo, she was jumping up and down with enthusiasm. With a grin, she shouted, "He's real, he's real! Santa is real! He signed my paper! I knew it! I knew he was real!". So what does the purple paper say?

.

.

"Dear Santa

Please draw a heart in the cerlce (circle) if you are alav (alive).

Love,

Alex, Emily, Y, Grant, Rachel" (I don't know why two kids were left out, or why the y)

.

In the circle, Santa did more than draw a heart. In fancy handwriting that could only come from the old man in the north pole, it says,

"Emily, You are one Lovede Girl, Santa"

.

I don't know if Lovede is the old North Pole word for loved, or if Santa was just really really tired by the time he got to our house. Emily didn't ask.

.

Yes, Emily, Santa is real. And today Santa and Santa are really tired.

Hostile takeover has been explained...I hope

I realize that by posting this, I will tick of some family readers who hate when I talk about my health. Don't worry, read to the end for a happy finish (non medical)

But there are others out there who are also stuck in a cycle of illness. I've learned from their writings. Maybe I can help another...

So I'm tired. REALLY TIRED. So tired that when I try to wake up, I feel like I'm underwater. It takes me a while to get my voice and limbs working.

My brain has been hijacked. Thoughts I have now that seem normal and rational, I can safely assume I will think better of. Like my plans to suffer thru just one more year of pain. I know, my husband knows, my doctors are all on board and up to date. This is Emily's facial representation of my brain

(Really it's her new favorite silly face to make. She's really practiced it well in the mirror, great eye crossing! )

I was relieved to find out Monday that my progesterone, estrogen, vitamin D and Iron are very low again. YES! I know I'm crazy, but now I have a reason for the recent hostile takeover!

So I'm back on progesterone. 100mg, at bedtime, and it's freshly compounded (not synthetic or old from a normal pharmacy). I thought I was free of it, that I was healthy enough to trust my body to make it's own hormones. Guess not. Not yet, anyway.

And now I wait. As my shrink says, just let momentum happen right now. The days will go by, and I will slowly, slowly get my brain back. My family waits. Especially my husband, who is the only one I share all my thoughts with. Of course, he's the only one in bed with me at 1am to listen to those thoughts. Nighttime is the worst. The scriptures about Christ as the light of the world are more meaningful to me now. Now, as the northwest has the long, dark days and nights. Now as my brain tries to function on bad blood and bad food (i know, i know, I'm going to try to eat more than chocolate all day and a normal dinner).

I try to pass the time well...like posting, reading, doing paperwork to get insurance and FSA to pay us for doctor stuff. Oh, and shopping. I finally went to the local thrift store and got some jeans. My size 12-14 jeans can slip off. I was thrilled to fit comfortably into a size 10. I haven't been a size 10 since....I was in my first trimester with Alex. The size 6-8 I was when I got married/graduated will never return. But I can be happy with a 10. As long as it lasts. 144. Wow. I haven't seen that number on the scale this decade. That's only 15 pounds heavier that the day I got married. That's less than I wrote on my drivers license, which I lied on.

It would be more glorious if so much pain wasn't involved in getting there. Diet vs pain???? Hmmmm, pain has pain killers. Diet and hunger, been there, done that....I think I'll take the pain. And the skinny.

Ignore the tired face...trying on the new top with blue skirt....

This photo is a top that I ended up returning. LOVED IT, but it fit perfectly, and it had never been washed (100% cotton) and I don't want to be upset when I gain some weight and can't fit it. Or worse, wear it when I gain weight and I really shouldn't wear it.

Grant was putting the kids to bed, so I took this one....size 10 jeans! with top I returned...so said. I loved the pattern!

NON MEDICAL ENDING

PS....if anyone can get Grandma Spencer to read this...Here is where I installed the artwork I was so privileged to acquire at her estate sale. Right over my piano. The same piano that I FINALLY cleaned off last week. It was covered with a decade of home videos (now mostly converted to DVD) and 5 years of tax documents from our FINALLY finished Audit. Yep, nothing like an IRS audit, delivered two weeks before your fourth pregnancy from HELL was to end. Oh wait, since it was such a horrible pregnancy, nothing like at IRS audit to finish off 40 horrible weeks with a bang. Baby Mark (Who was born a week late on top of it) was crawling before we got the paperwork error (their part) fixed. And now with Mark almost walking, we've finally put away the paperwork. Ahh.....pretty photo, clean house, happy kids....

Do you remember what to notice in the above photo?

Brass Artwork

Clean piano

LACK of tax papers and VCR tapes

Organized music

Finished Christmas tree

Fruit loop tree garland craft project that Grant planned, bought and executed alone

Gate that we only bought for baby 4 to protect tree

Katelyn with a Clementine orange sticker on her head from breakfast. So Bollywood

Oh, and also Grandma Spencer's couch that is slightly younger than me. And still in great shape. But that's another post for another day...and I've already rambled long enough on this one.....besides, IT'S TANNING DAY!

BEST THANKGIVING DINNER EVER

Yes, this is what you think. 2:30 pm Thankgiving Day.

Old Country Buffet

Our family with my little brother Joe and his new bride, Ely.

A brief list of why is was so awesome:

No inner anger at those who didn't help cook or clean up

No left overs to eat for days and days

Everyone left the table happy and full

No exhaustion from two days shopping, two days cooking, one day cleaning up and two more days eatting the same food for every meal.

No one complained about the food

All the food was hot and done and the same time

No discusion over what recipe of Sweet Potatoes to make

The kids ate Tacos, and Grant and I had the best, most moist Turkey.

And the desserts....oh, I wish I could eat a slice of that perfect coconut cream pie right now.

Oh...you want a laugh? Ten years ago Grant and I had our wedding luncheon at Old Country Buffet. I wasn't allowed to wear my dress (mom's rule) and it was cheap (dad's rule) and it sure made me an official Red Neck.