March 15, 2009.

It's a date I think about often, especially lately.

It's the last time I had a baby, and as I near the end of this pregnancy and get ready to give birth to another child all over again, I can't help but think back on that day and remember what it was like, how it all happened, even as I wonder what this time will be like.

I woke up that morning in March over three years ago, a Sunday, and cried in the shower as I began to get ready for church. Why, you may ask? Because I woke up still pregnant, and this was just too much. (pregnancy hormones make a girl crazy, you know.) Even though my "official" due date wasn't for another two days, I was just so done. I was barely getting any sleep at night, my body hurt and I was uncomfortable, and my doctor had told me at an appointment the Monday before that I would most likely be back that night for labor and delivery (I don't think doctors should be allowed to tell very pregnant women things like that.) Not to mention, Annabelle had come down with pink eye earlier that week, and it had felt like the longest week in history for a variety of reasons.

(funny side note: Emma came down with pink eye the day before Annabelle was born. No joke. I keep wondering if Rosalie is going to get pink eye anytime soon, now that the birth of this baby is imminent... it seems to be a standing tradition of ours.)

Anyway, so there I was, ridiculously crying in the shower, and simply praying that I could get through the day, praying that our little girl would make her appearance SOON.

Little did I know!

We went to church as usual that morning, and that's when it happened. I stood up for one of the songs at the beginning of the service... and there was a trickle. I froze. I didn't just pee, did I? No. That was... something else. My water had never broken on its own before, so this was new to me, and I just wasn't quite sure. I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Still not sure. But every time I stood up during that service, there was more trickling. By the end of it, I was fairly certain my water must have broken. And so, we quietly and unobtrusively skipped Sunday school and left to go home, so we could get ready to go to the hospital.

For as much as I wanted to be in labor and have our baby, I think it was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I actually was. I wasn't having any serious contractions yet, just that trickling. I didn't feel any different. I made my kids lunch when we got home from church, changed my clothes, got a few extra things together, made some phone calls telling people what was probaably going on, watched TV with Jeremy and my sister, who was visiting from Colorado at the time. It just felt too unreal that I could have a baby in a matter of hours; it was just so different from my previous labor experiences, which came on hard and fast.

Finally, around 2:30, I started having a few contractions and we decided we might as well head off to the hospital. They confirmed that my water had indeed broken, that I was in labor, and we were admitted. I remember being in our room as the afternoon sun filled it with light, waiting for the contractions to get hard and wondering how long it was until we'd meet our little girl, thinking that it was weird to be there at that time of day, instead of in the wee hours of the morning.

After this, things get a little bit more hazy. I know labor picked up and I started to really feel the contractions hurt as they got closer together sometime in the next hour or so. I also remember starting to panic, oddly enough since I'd done this two other time, as they got really hard. Annabelle's birth, which was painful like nothing I'd ever experienced before, was somehow fresh in my mind, and I just didn't want to feel that again.

And so, partly because I was curious what it might be like, partly because I could since this labor was taking longer, but mostly because I was finding it increasingly hard to not panic, I decided to get an epidural, which I hadn't ever done before. And even though I know I actually could have gotten by without it, that it would have been fine, I'm glad I did. I relaxed. Jeremy relaxed. I got to have a good phone conversation with my mom, who was in Colorado and NOT practically on the other side of the door like she had been the last two times, which was so different and rather sad to me.

Sometime around 10 that night, I realized things were moving along and I was starting to feel it. We had wondered if Rosalie would be born on her grandma's (Jeremy's mom) birthday, which was the 16th, at the rate things had been progressing... but it soon became clear that she would claim her own day. And at 10:55 that night, out she came, our Rosalie Hope, perfect and healthy, all 6 pounds and 3 ounces of her.

She was so tiny, and I still remember her babydays, some a little more clearly than others, and what it was like to have a new little life in our home.

This peanut of a child has now grown and changed into a three-year old, a kid, a girl with a personality all her own.

I've discovered, as she's become more independent and vocal, that she is a challenge. Really, believe it or not, this sweet little thing makes life positively difficult sometimes. She's stubborn (oh, SO stubborn), defiant, willful, headstrong, quite often disobedient, can be a little bully when she doesn't get her way with her sisters, and has a temper that results in meltdowns and tantrums at anytime. She fights and argues, sometimes just for argument's sake, and she refuses to give in, always thinking she can win. I'm learning to choose my battles with her carefully-- but also realizing how important it is, once a battle has began, for me to stand firm and not give in, for me to "win". Consistency is exhausting with this child, but so important. I'm constantly humbled as a mother when it comes to her, and I pray for wisdom and strength and grace quite often in our days. I pray for her, too, that all that spark and fire she has will become a beautiful and lovely glowing, shining life throughout the years, by His grace.

Yes, she's a challenge. But on the other hand, she is pure joy. She is funny and hilarious and keeps us laughing with her spunky little attitude and bold ways. She is sweet as sugar, generous and unabashed as only Rosalie can be in her affection, when she so chooses- her big kisses, bear hugs, loud proclamations of love, and spontaneous snuggles are some of the best things ever. She is adorable and darling, with her blond curls and big brown eyes and charming voices that she uses when playing. She is creative and imaginative, drawing and dancing and dressing up every day. She's not afraid to get dirty and grimy, but she loves lip gloss and pretty painted nails like the very girliest of girls. She is a total ham, loud and crazy and loving to make people laugh; and she is thoughtful and smart, always taking in the world around her.


She makes us smile, and our lives would be less lit-up without her, that's for sure. Even on the roughest days, I am so thankful to be mama to her, just as she is-- a true blessing.

I can't help but think how she's been the baby of the family for over three years now, the littlest in our group of girls, the smallest of us all. And soon, perhaps very soon, she won't be the baby anymore. She'll be a big sister, and probably seem older and bigger than ever before with the presence of a tiny newbie. I can't wait to see her with our baby, to experience her being a big sister, to see the ways in which she will continue to mature and change, even though my heart whispers a little of the bittersweet to me as I watch her grow up every day.

But, baby or not, she'll always be a baby of mine. Always and forever my Rosalie-roo.


I meant to use these pictures and write a story about her birth way back in March as a birthday post, when she actually turned three... which of course never happened, thanks to my blogging procrastination tendencies. But, I'm actually glad it worked out that way, because I think writing this post now was the perfect thing for me. As I always say when it comes to blogging, better late than never... and sometimes, even better later rather than sooner! :)

strolling down picture-memory lane

I'm feeling nostalgic tonight.
longing for simplicity and rest.
wanting to be surrounded by all the ones I love.
but most of all, I'm wishing time would slow down.

When I look at these pictures, I realize just how quickly it's gone by, and how quickly it still speeds on.

Oh my girls. This was right after they got their little pink kitchen, and I remember how they played for hours and hours together, making meal upon imaginary meal.


Be still my heart. Cousin-kisses at Costco are a wonderful thing. This was not long after Faith and Jason joined our family.


My Emma has always been such a little fashionista. Where did her roundess disappear to? She looks so childish here.


Sweet Annabelle... she loved princesses and fairies then, and she still does. Only now, she has much more hair.


Silliness and sister-secrets in pj's. Such tiny little munchkins here.


where oh where did my little girl go? Her happy smile is still the same, though...


Baby blue-eyes. Round soft cheekies. Tiny blonde curls. And a butterfly.
This was from our trip to the Butterfly Pavilion in Denver, just a few years ago.


Silly faces at Uncle Elijah's college graduation. And now he's in Afghanistan, so far away... it doesn't seem possible.


Oh, that smile. That smile! It still lights up her face every day.


Well, hi, cutie. (he hasn't changed that much since this picture, I just stumbled across it and really liked it. teehee.)


Little baby Roosie-boo. This seems like yesterday.


Chubby thunder-thighs. Oh, I had forgotten how delicious her baby rolls were. They are disappearing a little more each day.


This one's the real kicker. Prepare yourself.
I melt. Absolutely melt. And then I cry a little, because she's really just not a BABY anymore! Sigh.


I'm realizing more and more how I need to grab onto each day and pull the wonderful memories from it, to store them away and keep them tucked safely somewhere to relive them again someday.

I can't stop time, and I can't stop change... I'm glad. God knows what is in the future, and I welcome it with open arms. But I'm also glad to have a past, to have places and times wherein I can stop and sit quietly, fondly for just a little while, as I catch my breath and prepare to plunge ahead into a new day and a new season.

Time refuses to slow down... but every once in a while, WE need to.

Tucked away.

I was looking through some of the many un-published and un-finished posts sitting in my draft box last night, and just so happened to come across this one, written in November 2009 (not quite sure why I didn't just post it then...). At first, I wasn't going to publish it until the season seemed more appropriate... but upon further thought, I realized that thoughts of cool winter days, holiday joy, and glimpses of peacefulness might be just the thing someone might find lovely to read on a hot August day. Enjoy. :)
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As I write, it is November 30th. However, in a matter of just two hours, it will be December. December. As much as I love and look forward to this time of year, I can hardly believe it is actually here. And if I could, I would grab time firmly and tell it, with no uncertain tone, to slow down, already! Considering how quickly November whizzed right on by, I can only assume that December will fly by at an altogether impossible speed.

Sometimes, between school, piano students, housework, projects, three children, going to the gym, church activities, errands, Christmas decorating and shopping, and all the other little ins and outs of daily life it is hard to catch my breath. I will admit that I get stressed and overwhelmed. I get snappy and grumpy. Boo.

But what I dislike the most about all this busy-ness paired with time's fleeting tendencies is that I start to feel like things are escaping me. Little, but oh-so-important things. Things that I want to remember. But alas, I have neither the time nor the ability to capture those moments in beautiful photographs (this would explain my sad lack of blogging).

And so, I find myself storing up these gems of a moment, tucking them away in my mind's eye, a mental snapshot of a time or a place or a face.

We all cuddle on the couch under one big fuzzy blanket and watch Elf. Annabelle especially seems delighted with Buddy's antics and she giggles and giggles and giggles. Her face is alight, her nose crinkled up with her grin that reaches into her eyes and beyond. Golden hair in wispy curls brushes my face as I laugh with her, this delighted daughter of mine.

Emma presses the button on the bottom of the little white piano ornament and tinkly music plays. Arms stretched out, she dances, her very own brand of ballet. She twirls and twirls until the music stops, and then she presses it again. And again. And again. Dancing and dancing, not caring that it's always the same song or that the living room is scattered with toys.

My husband grabs me and hugs me for a moment as I flit from room to room, moving from task to task. We linger, my head on his chest, and I breathe in the smell of his cologne and relish the feel of his arms around me.

It is early morning, and I am driving home from the gym. Ahead of me I see the mountains, hazy and shadowy in the cold light of dawn. Mists lay across the fields, wispy and white. Everything is in shades of gray and purple, soft and still before the sunshine wakes the scene. It is so peaceful, so quiet-like, so rare and beautiful. "Be still, and know that I am God" comes to my mind.

Rosalie pulls herself up on one of the bins of Christmas decorations and grabs at a branch of golden berries. As she catches my eye, she grins like she just accomplished a wonderful feat, like she knows she shouldn't mess, but oh wow does she feel like a big girl! I can't resist that smile or her happy bounce, so I scoop her up and she giggles.

I am awoken by two tousle-haired girls on a cold morning. Which, of course, calls for cuddles in bed, even if briefly since there is a baby needing to be changed in the next room. We squeeze together close, their little figures warm and soothing, our legs and arms all tangled and criss-crossed under the thick comforter.

As Rosalie drinks her morning bottle I wrap us in a blanket and sit on the couch, just to hold her close to me. Her head rests against my chest, and I drink her baby-ness in. Her long dark lashes, her perfectly round and ever-fuzzier head, her dimpled chubby hands as they eagerly grasp her bottle. I think I could keep her warm little self there on my lap, cuddled up with me, forever.

Tucked away, all of them, these beautiful scenes from this beautiful life. Tucked away, safe and cherished for always.

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I'm so glad I found this in my draft box. It was like a cool little spritz of joy and refreshment in this hot and busy week. Such precious memories, all of these...

let's reminisce: a trip to Colorado

In case you haven't noticed, I have issues when it comes to posting about events that happen in my life. Quite often months and months will go by before I get around to doing it. (I'm sure that if you've read this blog for any length of time, you probably have noticed many of my faults, this one included. What's that? You thought I was perfect? Oh, bless your heart... but no... no, I'm not.)
Anyway, since I've simply come to realize that this is the way it is and I'm probably not going to change that habit anytime soon, I've decided to start a new little feature here: "let's reminisce". It'll give me the opportunity to post about anything that has come and gone... be it one month ago or years and years. And, "let's reminisce" sounds so much nicer than "I'm a procrastinator and it takes me forever to get around to doing things."

So! Let's reminisce! I would love to tell you all about my trip to visit my family in Colorado, which was about two months ago now, in February. You'll notice in these pictures that Jeremy is completely absent... because he did not come with us. He had to stay behind and work, and we missed him very much indeed! (guess who flew with three children all by herself? Moi! And you know what? Although we had our moments, it wasn't half bad. People are so nice and take pity when you have your hands full with two kids and a baby. :))

It was so lovely to be with our family again, to see Mom and Dad and Jerusha, Lydia, and Josiah... and this time, we had a special treat because my sweet grandma (on my mom's side) was also visiting from Minnesota! I hadn't seen her since Emma was about 9 months old, over 5 years ago. It was SO wonderful to see her again and watch my girls get to know her. She'd never even met Annabelle and Rosalie, and I could tell that it really delighted her to be around them. My grandma is someone I treasure; famous for her home-baked cookies and pinochle-playing skills, with a cozy little home and a love for cats. I have so many sweet memories of spending time at her house as I grew up. I miss that, and I miss her. I'm SO glad we got to spend time with her on this trip!



Four generations!! and, I might add, some of my most favorite ladies ever.

We were there for a whole week, and we really didn't DO much-- which was just perfect. It was very laid-back and relaxing, and nice to simply spend time together at home.

Emma and Annabelle were thrilled that it snowed while we were there, and they spent lots of time playing outside in the fresh-fallen snow, building snowmen with Uncle Josiah (who is a wonderful and willing playmate) and making him pull them around on the sled.








There was plenty of time to cuddle with Rosalie-roo... she's quite a wonderful little cuddle-bug, you know.





This is quite possibly one of the sweetest pictures ever, and I simply adore it.

Speaking of Rosalie, she had quite the adventuresome week, discovering a love for bravely following the family cat around (and only suffering one little scratch because of it)... and learning how to climb the stairs.

Once she figured out how to do that my week was pretty much spent retrieving her from said stairs. hehe.

My mom has always loved reading books to Emma and Annabelle and doing fun things like baking with them. It's a special thing that the girls love doing with Grandma, and this visit was no exception. Mom read them stories that had little activities to go along with them. It was so cute. They especially adored these little paper chain dolls.



You can't see it in this picture, but Annabelle got quite a nasty and huge scratch from the kitty, down her cheek right below her eye. It was traumatizing, but books and cuddles with Grandma made it all better.
Dad took lots of pictures. It's what he does. :)


And of course there was plenty of time for silliness and goofing around. Always.

Side note: When did my "littlest" brother, the baby of our family, get so much taller than me? Gah!

My mom, Jerusha, Lydia, and I went out for lunch one day, to Olive Garden. (mmmmmm, breadsticks.) You know, I honestly could spend all day long with these ladies of mine. We've always been close, but I feel we've grown even closer in a really special way since everything that has happened in these past months. They're amazing and beautiful, and I can't get enough of them. We had a lovely time together, eating way too much, helping Lydia flirt with the cute young waiter (not that she needs our help, but it was entirely too much fun), taking pictures, and yes, even drinking a bit. ;)



I have really pretty sisters.

And a really pretty mother too.
The week went by quickly, as it always does when one is having fun and spending time with dear ones, but this time I was really looking forward to going home to my husband! Even still, it was sad to say goodbye again and leave my family.

However... I get to end this post on a very happy note, because two weeks from now, at this time, I will be spending time with my mom and sisters again since they are coming here to stay for a few weeks!

I think this fact calls for a happy dance and a "whee!"

Whee!!