All I want for Christmas

Christmas is not an easy time to blog! Hopefully the new year will bring a new resolve for blogging and some time to do it in. In the meantime I wanted to tell you a few things my kids want for Christmas:

Lindsey: "I don't want a Hippopatamus for Christmas"
Christin's only wants are the following: a puppy, a kitten, the whole world-laminated
Happily Lindsey is not getting a Hippo and Christin is getting a globe so I'm sure they'll be thrilled!

The Worries of Being 5

Some people worry about the future more than others. I don't clearly remember being five but I know at one point I was worried about our families financial situation when my dad got hurt. I don't normally think of myself as a worrier but somewhere in my subconcious I guess I am and apparently I've passed that trait on to my eldest.
Here is what you would think a five year old worries about:
1. Getting candy
2. getting more candy
3. eating said candy
4. starting the process over
Here are Christin's worries that she brings up frequently
1. Who am I going to marry?
2. Do I have to go to college?
3. Can I live here forever?
4. How can I become a vet without going to college?

Yes it's hard to be five.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

I went to bed too late last night. Today I am tired. I can tell it's going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I got the kids all ready to go to Nana's and we were really ready to go but then I couldn't find my wallet. Now we are trapped in the house and my wallet is still missing. I needed to go for a run. It's raining and cold today. I think I'll move to Punta Cana. There is laundry all over, it is all dirty and doesn't seem to want to be clean. I checked on two sick kids I've been following online. One lived. One died. It made me sad. I can tell it's going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It's lunch time. I hate making lunch. The TV is on and the kids are watching it. I hate the kids watching TV. I think I'll move to Punta Cana. There are exactly 10 looooong hours until bedtime, there is glitter on my bed, I can't seem to loose the weight, my house is dirty and I don't feel like cleaning. Today is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I guess some days are just like that. Even in Punta Cana.

My Literary Soul Mate

You may be asking yourself what a literary soul mate is. That's good, you should ask yourself questions. I believe it may be a term I made up giving me the right to define it so here goes: A literary soul mate is a character from literature whom you connect with on a deep level. You see yourself in them. When the story ends you know what happens to the character later because it's the same thing that would happen to you. Some notable examples might be Peter from the Chronicles of Narnia, initially selfish and surly but constatly growing, through the grace of Christ (aka Aslan), into a person who is honored and respected. Or maybe you're Laura from the Little House books, perpetually seeing the glass as half full, your optimism and "great" ideas always getting you into trouble, but learning and growing through your mistakes. Or maybe you connect with Maniac McGee. You're self driven, the world can't get you down because you have your outlet that keeps you going. No matter how rough life gets you just keep on running. These are just a few examples of noteworthy soul mates. Now let me introduce you to mine:

Her name, no one knows, she just goes by "the old lady who lived in a shoe." We have a special bond, oldy and I. She lives in a shoe, I live in a house the size of a shoe box (not complaining! I can vacumm almost my whole house on one outlet). A shoe is stinky, my house, well despite my somewhat adequate efforts often smells, sometimes like dirty diapers, sometimes like food, sometimes like fish that accidentaly got lost in the basement for months and no one could find it or figure out what the smell was. . . but I digress. "She had so many children" when I first bonded with oldy I was watching Aidan (2) Fiona (7months) and had Christin (4) and Lindsey (15months) and was pregnant with Jack. "She didn't know what to do" it's not that she had nothing to do, it's the opposite, she had so much to do she could only spin around in circles wondering where she should start. I GET THAT! "She feed them all broth without any bread" I don't think she was poor, I think she just suddenly realized it was noon and the only thing she had in the house was a can of broth. I've been there! The author doesn't say but I believe she may have found a box of crushed goldfish in the back of the cabinet and poured it in the broth declaring the meal "Fish in a pond!" Here comes the best part, "she spanked them all soundly and sent them to bed" she was brilliant, she cut out the middle man and the time saying "if you get out of bed one more time. ..(insert threat)" and then the inevitable punishment leading to tears leading to eventual exhaustion and sleep. No she just spanked them on their way to bed. Her kids probably were always asleep within minutes. She's my hero. Were the story to continue it would go something like this:
She rushed through the house picking up things
clothes, and shoes, and toys, and toy rings

She longing looked at the books on her shelf
wondering when she would get some time to herself

She feel into bed
as this raced in her head:

Tomorrow she'd follow her schedule and be
the most awesome Mom and wife you ever did see!!!

Poop's STILL Yucky

Lindsey has been taking baths by herself lately (Christin has started taking showers). Usually I fill up the tub, she jumps in and I can get a few things done. I don't have to watch her constantly because she is constantly talking. If she stops, I check on her. So the other day she was taking a bath when it got very quiet. I yelled, "Lindey are you ok?" "Yup" she said, very quickly. A few minutes later it got quiet again. "Lindsey what are you doing?" "Just playing with poop!" Sure enough she was sitting in the tub, surrounded by poop, splashing it up on the walls.

YUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To hold you over until I have time to blog for real. . .

Our friends house got broken into. Sadly, their brand new kitten was stolen. I tried not to say anything in front of Christin but accidentaly said something about them getting another kitten. Christin asked why they needed another one. Did they already have one? I explained, as delicately as I could that their kitten had been stolen. Her response: "Well, the robber probably had a little kid. . . .or liked kitten meat."

George is still laughing. This happened two days ago.

Under Construction

I've decided our blog needs a facelift before I start seriously blogging again. Keep checking back:)

Dry All Day!!!!

I don't really have time to write a post but I wanted to brag that Lindsey went all day in panties without one accident. Even naptime!

Yay Lindsey!!!!

Happy Birthday America!

Ahh the carefreeness of being almost two just puts a spring in my step.



My first smore!


A seasoned smore eater.


What can I say? She is the dancing Queen.


Lindsey steals some of Amanda's shade.


The sugar induced coma is just beginning.

It is Time. . .

Ahh those famous words of Rafiki.

It is time for me to loose some weight. Now I realize you are probably thinking I should not be too hard on myself. I'm not. I think I have some pretty good excuses for putting on 10 ok 20 ok 30 extra pounds. However I realized that I don't want to look back at my Disney pictures some day and see my extra pounds. I want to look at those pictures and see a great time and a lovely family, including me. Do I care too much what I look like? Perhaps, but I'm ok with that:)

So I am planning on starting the South Beach Diet. I've helped George through it before but I've never really dieted before. That's the reason I'm blogging about it. I figure if I blog about it I will be more compelled to actually do it. In the past when I needed to loose weight I just needed to start excersising and drop 5-10 lbs. No biggie. However, recently I looked in the mirror and thought "mother of Ben and Jerry I need to loose some weight!" (Another indicator was that my maternity clothes are snug and Christin beat me in a race) So here I go, about to begin on the first real dieting attempt of my lifetime. . . tomorrow (seriously!)

As I embark on this journey do you have any words of wisdom for me?!?! Or just mean things to keep me going to prove you wrong (for example, "Hey Shannon, I have a picture of you and you look huge! Good luck with the diet!")

A Friend Loves at All Times

So I've done some ranting and raving about how well meaning people can be insensitive but I'm not sure I've shared how stinking awesome people have been to us. First of all the cards, gift cards, money etc. has been wonderful. People have thought of everything from giftcards to shoprite, Denney's, Friendlys, some nicer restaurants, and even giftcards to Build-A-Bear for the girls. As if that wasn't enough some people have gone above and beyond.
Some of our close friends from church (who shall remain nameless since we don't even know who they all are!) have decided that our family needs a vacation. While we couldn't agree more they have gone above and beyond and are sending us to Disney World. You know the place were Mickey Mouse lives?!?!?!?! They have taken care of our flights, hotel, food, and even a little spending money. I'm sorry to tell you that I have to coolest friends. You may think your friends are great, mine are better.
We also have another fabulous group of friends who paid for the girls and I to go to Camp Hebron (check out the pics in the Moms and Tots album). These are awesome camp friends who I haven't seen in years, yet God, in His wisdom, told them exactly what we needed and they obeyed by twisting my arm until I agreed to go (thanks girls!). The girls and I had so much fun together. I cried every day but the laughter far outweighed the tears. I was able to laugh and really enjoy my wonderful girls plus have some grownup girl time. I truely did heal so much in just 5 days.
So yeah, I pretty much have the most wonderful friends!

Imitation: the highest form of flattery!

My children, like all children, like to pretend that they are other people. Christin is a fan of pretending to be religious characters. This sounds like a great thing but rarely does it end well. Recently the girls were taking a bath when I noticed I hadn't yelled, "Stop splashing," "Don't touch anyone!", or "Why is she crying?" for awhile. As always, when it is quiet I worry that there is trouble. A quick peek in the bathroom assured me no one was hurt yet, and Christin is retaining the Bible stories we tell her. Lindsey was sitting in the tub crosslegged facing Christin, eyes closed. Christin had handfuls of bubbles which she was spreading on Lindsey's closed eyes. When Lindsey started to protest (due largely in part to the pain, I'm sure) I heard Christin say, "This is the mud! I have to put it on your eyes so you won't be blind anymore!" I don't believe the Bible story says that Jesus first blinded the man with mud but whatever:)
Now for Lindsey. Lindsey is a shape shifter. She becomes whomever she is around. I often feel like I live in a cave. Everything Christin says is echoed by Lindsey in words, tone, and gesture. It doesn't have to make sense, she just repeats. She has two things she has picked up from me saying "darn it!" and putting on makeup. Fortunatly she cannot get into my makeup, unfortunatly she can get into mom's. On a recent trip over there she covered herself in make up (lipstick and foundation) and pulled apart some stuff in mom's room that mom was just telling me how proud she was of herself for putting together (oops). When Lindsey came strolling into the piano room thoroughly proud of herself Mom and I both scolded her as we went to survey the damage. Lindsey just carefully smacked her lips together to make sure her lipstick was even, it wasn't.
We are hoping that Nana will let Lindsey come over again sometime in the next couple of years.

What Not To Say

First let me say that this is not an angry blog. Sometimes it amuses me the things people say to me. I know that no one is being heartless, however, in the effort to say the "right thing" people often say the wrong thing. Sometimes it makes me angry but usually I just nod my head and later laugh about it. So here it goes, a list of things not to say to someone grieving:

1. "I know how you feel" You don't, no one does, grief is such an individual process that unless I have told you how I feel there is no way you can know. No two people feel the same way. You can only know if I tell you, and even then my feelings can change in an instant. Which brings me to

2. "How are you doing?" Talk about a loaded question. I feel this is the question people use to test out their rusty Psych 101 skills. Good=Denial Bad=Depression or Anger. I've decided "We're OK" is the only appropriate answer, it keeps people guessing (unless of course the took more than one psych class:)

3. "Are things back to normal?" I'm not sure I even understand this question. There is no way to go "back" and I'm not even sure what "normal" is. I believe what people are trying to ask is if we are moving on but for some reason people are afraid to ask us that.

4. "Are you going to try again?" Ok, many of you whom I LOVE have asked me this but can we stop and think about this. I feel the connotation with this question is you failed, don't give up. We didn't fall of a horse people. There is no getting back on. Jack's death is not a failure, we had a successful pregnancy that resulted in a baby. I believe what you mean is, "Do you think you will have any more children?" (we don't have an anwer to that question yet)

So if you ever come across a person in grief here is my suggestion:
Give them hug. Tell them you love them and are praying for them. Ask them how they feel they are coping. And if you are really close to them ask them if they have any plans for the future. Lastly, gage their mood and make a suggestion to do something to either allow them to cry or give them the freedom to laugh (or both:)

I hope this post is informative and at least a little amusing. As painful as Jack's death have been there have certainly been times of laughter (admittedly sometimes at the expense of others ie: laughing at peoples' "I feel sorry for you face":)

As a side note: Jack continues to make an impression on our girls. Lindsey still prays for him and Christin will still get sad and miss him, she is however, not above getting fake sad at bedtime in order to stay up later and talk and we are seeing fewer real tears everyday!

We still appreciate everyones prayers and thoughts!

Normal Weird

I've decided to try and start blogging a little bit about my own thoughts and feelings about Jack's hospital stay. I've realized that while I never thought of myself as a "journaler" it is therapeutic for me to blog my thoughts. I'll leave the medical updates to Tara and Mom and my blog will continue to be what it has always been: my emotional and mental place to vent. Sometimes it will be spiritual (God is teaching George and I soooooo much) and sometimes just my wandering thoughts.
So for the past day or so I have been thinking about the question, "How do you do it?" in reference to living in a hospital 24/7 for a week now (Happy One Week Birthday Jack!!!!). Obviously so much of it is God and prayer, which I will get into another time, but there is a very weird "normal" feeling to this. So here is our daily schedule: Everyday I get up at 6:45am because we need to be out of our room by 7 (it's a consultation room during the day), we pack up all our possessions and take them to our 5 drawers and locker size closet in Jack's "room" (really a cubicle, one of 6 in a room). Then I pump, which I could go into way more details about but I will spare you, for now:) While I do that George takes care of getting my meal vouchers (breastfeeding/pumping moms get meal vouchers) and puts in our names to try and get another room tonight. We spend some time with Jack, go eat breakfast, pump again, wait for the drs. to make their "rounds", listen to what the plan for Jack is for the day, spend some time at Jack's bedside reading the Bible (Thanks Gideons!), praying, singing/talking to Jack, pump again, then lunch. After lunch usually one of us takes a nap (usually me) while the other prays for Jack and sits with him, then pump again, catch up with each other, pray together. Around 6 the girls, my parents, Tara, and George's family come by. Everyone visits Jack, the girls play, we all eat dinner together, everyone comes up to say goodnight to Jack. By 8 or so it's usually just us again, I pump (are you getting how often I'm pumping I might even be leaving some out:) we spend some time praying for Jack, we find out where (if) we have a room tonight, one of us showers, pump again, say goodnight to Jack, tell the nurses three times what our phone numbers are and which room we are sleeping in. Finally we fall into bed exhausted and sleep for 6-7 hours until we get up and do it again.
So that is how we do it. It's so bizarre and yet has become normal for us. I never would have thought that such a weird thing could be feel so normal, but it does.

"God is good all the time! All the time God is good!"

A short story about a PK

So I realize I just posted but I had to share this story with you all. Yesterday Christin was eating some goldfish. I heard her playing with them, making them talk and got closer to hear what she was saying. Here is what was going on.. .
Goldfish 1: Who would like to be next?
Goldfish 2: I would
Goldfish 1: Ok, I baptize you in the name of the Lord.
Goldfish 2 is then dunked in a glass of water and eaten and the process begins again.

I tried to catch her in the act but she was embarrassed once she realized she'd been caught.

Soon and Very Soon

So it appears our little boy is anxious to meet us. I had finally adjusted to the fact that he was going to be 2 weeks early giving me about 4 weeks to prepare. Then on Tuesday I started to bled. My doctors had told me this could happen so I wasn't shocked. They had also told me to go right to Our Lady of Lourdes and that the hospital would expect me and know all about my case. I have to say while the facilities at Lourdes leave something to be desired the people were awesome. When I walked in they knew exactly who I was and why I was there. Everyone from the Lady who cleaned the bed next to mine to the doctor (whom I'd never meet) was so sweet and wonderful that I actually look forward to seeing them again:)
The seeing them again is, however, coming much sooner than I expected. My doctors decided that the best thing for my and the babies health was to give me sterroids for his lungs (which they did in the hospital) and plan the C-Section for the 36 week mark, May 5th (that's right Cinco de Mayo!)
While I am so excited to meet this little trouble maker I am no where near ready! I now have 10 days to get my home, and self ready. Can I get AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! Normally I am the kind of person who will throw myself into cleaning and preparing in the days before my due date. This time I face a delicate balance of getting it all done without over doing it and sending myself back to the hospital. So what can you my friends and loyal readers do? 1. PRAY: for him, for me, for all of us. 2. If you happen to have an extra Merry Maid laying around (which frankly is weird but whatever) send her my way!

This may be my last post until after the baby is born!!!!!

PS. We have a name (we think) but we figure at this point we might as well keep you in suspense until May 5th;)

Wanted: 1 Mommy Bathroom

I have never really understood why people wanted more than one bathroom. Growing up with six people sharing the bathroom didn't seem that odd to me and who wants to clean more than one bathroom anyway?!?! One was fine for me. Until last month. I suddenly find myself symaltaneously potty training two children. Aidan, who turned 3 in February and had zero interest in potty training despite everyone's best efforts, suddenly must have realized that he only had precious weeks left to potty train at my house. If you've never trained a boy before lets just say it's like letting a three year old loose in your bathroom with a water-gun. In addition to Aidan, Lindsey has decided that she would like to be potty trained. If we let her run around naked she will run to the potty use it and then announce it to us all. While I find this wonderful she hasn't grasped the concept of wiping before she gets up. The result is tiny drops of pee (or tooty which is what she calls it:) on and in front of the potty. Fine, I can clean that up, when I know it's there. Sometimes, however, she will use the potty and run off to play without telling anyone (again thrilled about the independence). I will find the pee later.
So where does this leave me? Feeling as if I am constantly dealing with a dirty bathroom covered in bodily fluids. I don't feel comfortable in bare feet in my own bathroom! I find myself "holding it" just to avoid having to walk in there or at least waiting until I have enough time to scrub with some clorox wipes before I go. I know I shouldn't complain. I should just be thankful for the potty training that is going on, however, I can't help but find myself dreaming of a blissfully clean bathroom all for me. With no pee on the floor or seat, a place I can be barefoot and wipe my hands on the hand towel knowing only I have used it. . .Everyone should have dreams.

Who do you think he looks like?

Well, we had another ultrasound yesterday and finally got a good picture, (we haven't had, Leo, our usual tec. in awhile). While I was talking to the doc he apparently was just trying to get us a good picture to take home. We love Leo:)
I honestly think he looks like someone in the pic but I'm not saying who:) What do you think?!?!

Food Monster!

Lindsey always is eating, however, she likes junk food and sometimes it can be hard to get her to eat her healthy food first. If you've heard the kid say "cookie" or "cake" you know what I mean! Anyway, we figured out that if we tell her to be a "insert food name here, monster" she will happily eat anything. I realize this is a little Christmas Storyish (Show Mommy how the piggy eats) but hey, it works. Now that I'm working on #3 "works" is good enough for me. (no pun intended but that was pretty funny wasn't it?!?!)

I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes, I can't remember who said it and I'm not going upstairs to look: "Before I had kids I had six theories on raising children. Now I have six kids and no theories!"

Welcome to the Hotel California

So many of you know what a trying pregnancy this has been for us but for those of you who don't allow me to enlighten you. I was my normal violently ill for the first 4 1/2 months. While this sucks we've come to expect that when I get pregnant I am pretty useless for awhile. I had a three week bought with depression that was really rough (no one may know that because, shockingly, when you are depressed you don't feel like talking to anyone). So if you thought I was ignoring you or didn't love you anymore, it's not you, it's me:) It was rough and something I've never experienced before: complete lethargy (I might have made that word up, in case I did it means I was really lethargic:), I felt utterly useless and unproductive, from the time I got up I only wanted to go back to bed and cry. Frankly it sucked but also gave me a real empathy for people who struggle more severly with depression. In case you didn't know I tend to have a "suck it up" attitude about depression. Now, I realize, you can suck all you want but it's just going to result in some serious air bubbles in your stomach! Anyway, I'm feeling better now:)
The biggest complication has been that my womb has become the Hotel California. You can check in, little boy, but you can never check out (bwaa,haha). This is due to a little condition called Placenta Previa. Basically my placenta (or I guess it's the babies placenta since I have no real use for it) is covering the cervix aka exit out of the womb. Thanks to modern medicine you don't need to use the door to get out of this hotel. My doctor will be cutting a temporary door. The good part about this is that I no longer have to make it to June 1st. Most likely we will have our C-Section in mid may (before my birthday). This means I will have had Lindsey at 25 years old and this baby at 26 (impressive eh?) It also means that I have yet to have a "normal" delivery. Christin was Sunny Side Up (which contrary to it's sound is not so sunny) and Lindsey was induced (and still was a week late). So now we are going to try a C-section. I'm thinking the next one will be breech.
Anyway, on a serious note, please pray for all of us. There is a risk that as the baby grows and puts pressure on the placenta I could begin bleeding and need to have an emergency C section earlier than mid May (which is 38 weeks). My thought is "Pray for May" I will be 36 weeks come May 1st and while an emergency C-Section would be scary by then the baby will most likely be developed enough to have a normal start (lungs will be functioning etc.) It's funny to think of the things that I found annoying about the girls births that are now blessings. For example I was late with both of them (lessens my chances of going into labor early with this one) and they were both over 8lbs (not huge but larger than expected which means this one will probably be bigger too and since he will be early that's a great thing!) Oh and I might even get to try out a new hospital and have this one at Lourdes in Camden, which if I do I think I'll write a book of local hospital maternity wards and make some money:)
God is good, all the time! All the time, God is good!

Not So Passive Aggressive

So George and I just went on a wonderful vacation, a babymoon, if you will. We slept in, layed on the beach, and ate ourselves silly at the wonderful restuarants. It was perfect. Uninterrupted time of just us. No pauses in our conversations to clean up anything foul or answer a question that had to be answered immediately like, "when I'm 12 can I. . . ?" And to our sheer delight, a bathroom at every turn mostly empty with someone waiting outside the door to give us a little squirt of hand sanitizer. By Friday, while sad to be leaving the beach we were ready to see our girls again. We had talked to them and knew they were in the capable hands of my mom so didn't really worry but we missed them as much as we knew they missed us, and that my dear friends is where we made a terrible mistake: assuming they had missed us and longed for our return.
When mom pulled up Christin had fallen asleep in the back seat. George picked her up and noted, happily, that she had wet herself on the way over as if to say, "welcome home". She was dead to the world, however, she woke up when George laid her on her bed and exclaimed in her most whiney, horrible voice, "I don't want to be here I want to go back to Nana's!" Lindsey, on the other hand seemed happy to see us, as long as mom was there. When she stood up to leave Lindsey began to cry and yell, "Nana, Nana!". She cried until George brought home french fries and then seemed to get over it. That is until Saturday night when she began throwing up. In her own way seeming to say, "fine you want me to be here with you? well, I'll show you some real fun in the form of projectile vomit all over me, you, and my car seat. I dare you to ever leave me again!"
In a few weeks I am going to Chicago to see Rebecca. I can't wait to see what I will be greeted with when I return!

What's in a name?

So it's about that time when the name game should be starting. However, there is a slight problem, we have no name. Not even a list of names we are picking from. Now don't assume we haven't read the baby name books because we've read, discussed them, and crossed off all the names. Why are there more girls names? We managed to pick out a girls name on the way to the ultrasound and yet a month after learning we were having a boy he has no name (that's not entirely true, he has a middle and a last name, so never mind we are 2/3's of the way there)
So I decided (without George's knowledge;) to allow you to name our first boy. You should be honored, aren't you special? Naming your grandchild,great-grandchild, nephew, great-nephew, 1st cousin once removed, or friends (or strangers but that's kind of creepy (not that you can't read this if you don't know me but maybe it would be best if you don't comment, then again what the heck, if you've got a good idea I'm open to it!)) baby!
Every game has a prize and rules. The prize is, obviously, you name the baby, if you thought it was more than that you really don't know me.
And now the rules:
1. Can't be trendy, if it's in the top 25 of any list in the past couple years forget it (hint: if it ends in "en" ie: aiden, caden, hayden, payden, etc. it's on that list)
2. Must sound like a strong man name, in other words naming him Shannon after me is not acceptable.
3. No aliteration, no offense to my friends and family who have names that start with the same letter as their last name but I'm not into it.
4. George is not an option, we already have one of those.
5. Think about nicknames: yes Josiah is a wonderful name but let's face he'll be called Joe and that puts him at the top of the popular list.
6. Must sound good with Christin and Lindsey, while Zerubabel might be a wonderful name it just doesn't sound that fantastic at the end of the Christmas card.
7. Bible names are great but please consider the Biblical character, ie: Zacheus, great guy, great name, but a wee little man, let's face it no DeVol should start off with a name that already has a short joke built in.
Well, that' enough rules to get you going. So let's hear those suggestiions.

PS. Don't be offended when I shoot them down it's nothing personal, just blame it on the pregnancy hormones!