For Grandma Hatch

WE LOVE GRANDMA!!!  We miss you!

Sunshine

Everyone at the grocery store got to hear this song during my entire grocery shopping experience yesterday--belted at the top of excited 2-yr-old lungs.  And let me tell you, she can belt it.

Favorite Pics

Just loaded a month's worth of pictures off my camera. 
These are my two favorites.

Love this little stinker pot Annick!

 Best Daddy I know, enjoying some Hazel time.

Annick Singing

Annick is a little song girl.  She can sing all day long.  Grandma Hatch gave her two special song books and every night in her prayers she begins, "Dear Henly Fada, Gateful da sing book....."  Today she wanted to sing with the piano.  She's been a bit jealous of Ryan's piano lessons and of the times he plays duets with Mommy.  I'm going to be sad when Annick stops singing, "Teekle Leekle Leekle Gaw".

Happy Easter

Easter Hazel in her Mom's frilly baby dress

Sweet Annick, Ready for Church

On Easter I did a REAL hairdo for Annick for the 2nd time ever...  Ryan snapped this photo which I thought was rather creative (though maybe not intentional...)

Easter Baskets

The falling asleep face just makes me laugh.
"Really, Mom?  Are you seriously going to make me wear these ears???"

Valentine's Day

"Red" Heart-Shaped Pancakes for Breakfast

 Lip-Shaped and Heart-Shaped 

Cheese Tortillas

Lots of Pink Little Girl Sweetness

The Better Part

This week I was looking at a lovely painting of Mary and Martha with Christ.  It reminded me of my current goal while I'm in this stressful stage of life caring for a newborn--that I need to choose the better part.  Right now my muddy footprint-stained kitchen floor is screaming to be swept and mopped.  My kitchen sink is crying for a scrub.  My bathroom sink faucet has something crusty and yellow on it and the toilet is due for a cleaning.  The water in the sump pump's pipe is frozen and my basement is filling with water that can't pump out.  And I let it all sit while I sit on the couch and read a book to Annick.  She's singing songs with me while I nurse Hazel, who is clinging tightly to my finger while she drinks.  I'm grateful for these little moments to sit still and love on my little girls.

Sisters

(The little pink dress Hazel is wearing was my dress when I was a baby.)

Celebrating 30

For several years now I've had a hard time remembering how old I am.  I don't think that will be a problem for a while now.  It's pretty easy to remember how old your kids are, and since Hazel was born 3 days before my 30th birthday I can just add 30 to her age.  That's how I always remembered how old my mom was while I was growing up--30 years older than me.  :)

I guess I've hit some sort of milestone, but it hasn't had a chance to hit me yet.  I didn't have a chance to think much about it while anticipating the baby's birth and her eventual arrival.  I hadn't even realized my birthday was coming until it was almost there.

Adam and the kids got me a dozen roses, a silly card, some bath salts and a scrubbie.  Ryan was very thrilled about the cake, and glad I let him make a white cake for me like he wanted to do rather than have lemon squares like I'd wanted.  :)  I sure love these three kids and their daddy-o.

Mother Tears

I remember when they came the first time.  Ryan was 4 days old.  I'd come home from the hospital the day before and my mom had arrived from Utah to help us out.  I sat in the rocking chair holding my precious baby.  My mom came in to tell me to come have breakfast.  "I can't," I said.  "He'll grow up too fast if I eat breakfast."  And the tears came.  They came and they came and I don't know when they eventually stopped.

This time they come on day 2.  I cry and cry over everything and nothing.  I feel like I don't know who I am--I'm inhuman and yet more connected to humanity than ever.  I feel alone and somehow still filled up to swelling or bursting.  I feel empty and unknown and simultaneously close to God. There are no words to express these emotions.  I read a book to Ryan--a science book about bats--and cry through the whole thing.  Try explaining that to a confused five-year-old!

The biggest pang in my heart causing the tears is that my baby will never be two days old again.  I can't stare long enough at the wrinkled palms and fingers that will soon stretch out, the twisted little feet that will straighten, the angel-soft hair that will grow long and go into a pony tail like her sister's, the clenched eyes that will open wide, the eager searching mouth that will soon speak words, the balled-up frog on my chest that will grow too big to want to cuddle, the light eyebrows that will darken.  I rub and rub and rub Hazel's soft back that will lose its newborn softness soon.  I trace her newborn ears, head, cheeks, lips, and tiny nose.  I drink in her tiny coos and grunts.

I wonder as I looked outside how life for people all around me goes on as usual that day--just another humdrum day--when for me time stands still as I hold a piece of heaven, rising and falling with my chest.  I feel guilty that I so rarely stop and look, pause and appreciate.  Why don't I look closer more often to see the wonders of God?  The freezing rain that attaches to my window the moment it touches the glass, the beauty of a candle light flickering in the darkness, the sun's rays that enter through the open blinds of my window, a tiny fat roll on my baby's neck, and the sound of a daddy humming lullabies to his little girl.  Why do I give Ryan a treat to quiet him up and move on with my business rather than stopping to watch his eyes roll back into his head with delight as he tastes a bit of wonder?  Why don't I stop to play with Annick more often rather than hoping I can interest her in keeping occupied herself? So I tickle my two-year-old because I can.  I smile and laugh with her and appreciate the moment.

And at the same time the tears fall.  The river flows.  And somehow through the tears I glorify God, giving thanks through my river that I CAN freeze this moment...that I have such a divine moment to freeze.  And I try to let go, let Him heal me, let Him lead me through passing time and move on.

Death, like birth, brings a frozen moment in time.  I shudder as I wonder--If death were the pause in time I was dealt this week, could my tears still glorify God?  Could I see through my pain to His grace, His wisdom, His mercy, His blessing...that the death was a gift?  I say a silent prayer of thanks that I am given life, not death, at this time, and pray I won't be dealt that bitter hand.

I lay my two-day-old Hazel down on the blood-stained sheets of my bed, and tear up thinking of my agony--the darkness that brought life-light.  The sheets will wash clean.  The pain washes away.  It all becomes a memory.  The life is worth it.  My heart turns to my Lord and his darkest blood-stained agony that brings me life.  I imagine his pain, like mine, washed away after his task was done, after the miracle of life was given.  My life is worth it to Him.  Hazel's life is worth it to Him.  And I sit still and wonder.  In my mind we're connected in a new way.  She is my spirit sister.  We have so much to teach each other.  I'm overwhelmed by, thankful for, and pressing on with the challenge to be her mother. 

I snuggle my cheek against my newborn's soft dark hair and breathe with her--not the intense focused deep breaths I breathed to bring her here, but the quiet, calming slow breaths I breathe to keep her here in this moment of now--forever next to my heart.  I give another hundred kisses on a soft forehead, soft cheeks, and tiny knuckles.  And my mother-tears keep flowing.

Inroducing...

HAZEL LYNN THOMPSON 

Born at home in Pittsfield, Maine  

1-4-14.  9 lb.  20 3/4 inches.

An attempt at inducing labor...

After we had no Christmas baby and still no baby to speak of by New Year's Day, I decided I was sick of trying to rest to prepare for labor and went snowshoeing with my little guy.

Unfortunately my long snowshoeing adventure with Ryan only led to an afternoon of soreness and tears.  Definitely no baby.  At least we had a great time together.  :)

Tea Set

Annick could not love her new tea set any more than she does.  She asks each night for "do plates" (2 plates) to sleep with, and wakes up distraught in the night if she can't locate one of them.  She's having daily tea parties.  It would be nice if she chose more hygienic places than the toilet, I know...but hey, at least it's an easy place to clean up the water!  I sure love this sweet, imaginative little two-year-old.

Christmas 2013

This year a certain little girl had NO desire to see Santa, and screamed the entire way.  Even on Christmas Eve, Ryan excitedly told her that Santa would come when they were in bed and she freaked out screaming, "No, no, no!"  After Christmas she decided Santa was an okay guy...  :)

Despite just being a little family of four, we're trying each year to act out the nativity scene like I did every Christmas Eve growing up.  Annick wanted to be a reindeer, a shepherd, a sheep, and most importantly, Mary.

Our Christmas set-up

The kids lining up with their bowls to come see their stockings.

 Christmas Loot

Santa gave Annick a doll high chair and we gave her a tea set and some big girl underwear (hoping to motivate...).  Santa brought Ryan a remote control car and we gave him a magnet set, a Lightning McQueen watch, and some learning workbooks for homework time when the baby's here.  We got a set of old Little Rascals videos as a family present.  Some friends from France sent presents, Grandma & Grandpa sent the UNO Moo game, and cousins loaded us up with new shows and totally awesome Christmas jammies.

A labor of love...39+ week prego Mammasita trying to make a blanket for Adam.  Sore!

We had a quiet, peaceful, drawn-out Christmas that was very relaxing.  The Christmas baby we'd thought for sure would come decided not to join us yet, and we were glad not to have to send the kids away on the holiday.  It was a perfect family day.