Happy Halloween!

This year I really wanted the girls to have traditional costumes. As such, we had a clown:

There's a picture of my brother-in-law Matthew around this age as a clown. I hunted everywhere for a clown costume. Not only are they rare for this age, the only ones out there are cheaply made. As it turns out, the local craft store was going out of business so armed with a pattern, I picked up these happy fabrics. The package said it was a 2 hour project but somehow it took me the better part of 3 days to complete because I was so picky about how I wanted the finishing touches like the collar and ric-rac. I absolutely adore how it turned out! Brigitta loved wearing it too. It was just roomy enough I imagine it was very comfortable. It has a hat but she didn't love wearing that quite so much...

 a witch:

Recognize this one? Liesel was a witch at this age. I especially love the purple and orange glasses. So did Ireland.

and an angel:

I wanted to make a super fluffy tulle skirt that could also be used for dance class. There are tons of "no sew" tulle skirts out there that can be done in an hour or so. However, over time tulle has a tendency to curl up and get nasty. I wanted this skirt to last through all four girls so I painstakingly edged each piece of tulle in ribbon. This one had no pattern, just an idea in my head. In the end it was 16 layers and even though tulle is light, I managed to break the needle on the sewing machine putting on the finishing touches.

Sorry, but that skirt deserves a shot from another angle:

Liesel looked truly ethereal among all the obnoxiously bright Disney princesses:

All three:

 I usually don't dress up for Halloween but I thought of the perfect pregnancy costume and just had to run with it:

It was immediately apparent who knew their classic American literature and who did not. If you don't get it, here's a hint: I'm holding a copy of Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.

The girls made good use of their costumes! They were able to wear them to dance, then the ward trunk or treat, then school where they both had parades. I was one tired mama by the end of it all. Secretly I considered skipping their parades so I could stay home with Brigitta and nap. However, once I saw them light up when they spotted me among the parents I knew I made the better choice.

Even trekking out in the rain while severely off her nap schedule, Brigitta caught the spirit of the parades and waved to everyone she could.

Another thing she readily caught onto? Gorging on candy!

How I Love That Dirty Water

What a fantastic game! I spent chunks of it screaming into a pillow so I wouldn't wake the girls. Brent and I texted and called each other incessantly and when it came down to the final few pitches, my heart was pounding. As a true Red Sox fan, I never think a game is over until it is truly over. Near the end, Ireland wandered out of bed looking for Brent which is not uncommon. I decided to let her stay up and watch the game with me. She was eager to oblige:

 But seconds after they clinched the win, she was fast asleep:

Go Sox!

Acute Asthma Attack

Aye mi, where to start. Ireland's asthma has been incessant lately. Just as she'd finally recover from an attack I'd notice her wheezing again and within hours we'd be in the thick of it. This latest was by far the worst but as luck would have it, in the middle of the day. Asthma is notoriously worse at night but I was able to bypass the ER and whisk her into the instacare while Liesel was in school. 

Although she'd just had her rescue inhaler, the doctor took one listen to Ireland's lungs and immediately put her on the nebulizer. She couldn't even smile about the cool monster mask they gave her. 

A morning of not being able to breath left her pretty tired. Because this was such a bad attack, Brent and I decided to finally put Ireland on steroids. My own memories of the side effects of steroids have kept me from going down that road but we'd hit the point of no return. Poor Ireland was absolutely miserable and nothing was giving her even a modicum of relief. To keep an eye on her, I had her sleep with me. Her tiny body curled around my hugely round belly. I held her to me and could feel her heart practically beating outside her chest as it worked overtime to get oxygen into her system. Lately I don't sleep well anyway, but I really didn't sleep well as I ached for my little girl and all she was going through.

With three attacks in less than a month, we also decided it was time to have her seen by a specialist so we could discuss preventative treatment. I know that sounds simple, but it was a debacle of epic proportions! To have her seen by a specialist, she had to be referred by a pediatrician. Ireland's pediatrician is back in Illinois and she can't make a referral to an Iowa City doctor she doesn't know. So we had to get an appointment with a local pediatrician JUST to get the referral! Talk about a waste of time. The pediatrician passed along the referral to the Department of Pulmonology and they offered us an appointment... on December 31st. I worked hard to keep my voice calm as I told the nurse my poor little 3-year-old had 3 attacks in less than a month and they were going to make us wait another two and a half months until she could even be seen? Not okay. So I called around and discovered it's very difficult to find a doctor who is willing to work with an asthmatic under the age of 6. Finally I scored an appointment for... December 12th. Whatever, I'd take it.

As the nurse talked to  me about filling out paperwork and what I'd need for the appointment, I unabashedly begged her to keep us in mind if there was a cancellation. I told her even if it was the same day, I could get Ireland there in 30 minutes. She must have heard the desperation in my voice because she got us in today. Veni, vidi, vinci.

The only little problem is my little girl. She's so young, even the specialist isn't willing to do any testing to find the cause of her asthma. The doctor told me the reason they don't is because kids can develop new allergies. That explains why so many other doctors wouldn't even see Ireland in the first place! It became clear that the doctor was guessing at the cause of Ireland's asthma as much as I was. We did get some new prescriptions and a follow up appointment, but in the end we aren't much better off.

There are a lot of aspects about parenting that are hard but this one is unique. Due to my extensive research regarding health history on both my and Brent's side of the family, I know this comes solely through me. I just wanted to give my children blue eyes and full lips. When I see Ireland struggling to breath, I know without a doubt it's my fault. I'd give anything to take it all away and when I find myself making phone call after phone call with no result, I feel like a horrible mother. For now, there's simply nothing I can do and it's just a waiting game until this rears it's ugly head again.... Aye mi.

One Contrite Kid

This morning Brent was reminding the girls about their responsibilities to make their beds, tidy their rooms, brush their teeth, etc. Apparently this all rubbed Liesel the wrong way because she handed Brent this note:

Brent and I feel strongly about presenting a united front to the girls when it comes to matters of discipline. We don't tolerate sassing of any kind. Since Liesel was in such an independent mood, I let her have breakfast alone in her room. Perhaps a bit of contemplation was all she needed because after breakfast she handed Brent the following three notes:

That last one gets me. Whenever the girls make a bad choice and they've apologized, I always tell them something along the lines of "Let's try to have a better day" so we all move on. Usually I feel like those words dissipate into the air and are immediately forgotten but apparently they're getting through at least a little bit.

Although Liesel has her moments of testing our boundaries (which I understand is the norm for her age), she has an extremely tender heart. Those last three notes speak a lot more to her personality than the first one, for sure. I love that little girl!

Tidbits

With Brigitta down for a nap and me being in between projects, I decide to get down on the floor and play with Ireland a bit in her room. She handed me the toy microphone and I decided to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart in full-on diva mode. When I finished, Ireland looked at me quizzically, gently took the microphone away, and said, "Let's not play with this anymore." She didn't just put it away either! She shoved it to the very bottom of her toy bucket and covered it up with a bunch of stuffed animals. As of right now, the microphone has mysteriously disappeared. I guess forever's NOT gonna start tonight?

This was on the back of a card Liesel made for Brent. Even when he's not here he tries to take care of me. 

Liesel was campaigning to watch a movie after school but it was a Monday so I needed to feed the girls an early dinner and head over to dance. I said as much to Liesel and added that when she watches movies she just gets nasty to everyone. She's mean to her sisters, she snaps at me, she's reluctant to obey, and she always always drags her feet getting off the computer when her time is up. Frustrated that she was clearly losing this battle, Liesel defiantly sassed, "Mom, you're a liar" and I immediately saw RED!!! I sent her to her bed and waited a few minutes until I was calm enough to talk to her again (although I was still plenty ticked). I told her maybe we should find her another family... one that has a mom who doesn't mind being called a liar because I absolutely will not tolerate it. At that suggestion, Liesel burst into tears and sobbed, "But I like Daddy!" She was not winning points with me that day. When I called Brent to report her appalling behavior, he couldn't stop chortling.

When I saw this cartoon it really resonated with me. 

Whilst we eat breakfast, Liesel likes to look over the calendar, the menu, the mail, etc and ask me questions about it. I'd just updated our menu for October and she asked about various items and announced my O for oatmeal wasn't very clear... it looked more like a C. I told her I know I don't have the nicest handwriting and she said, "Maybe after school me and Ireland can show you how to make beautiful letters!"

The Red Sox clinched the AL pennant and are headed to the World Series which I excitedly relayed to the girls over breakfast. To ensure they know who they are, I often ask, "Are we Red Sox fans or Yankees fans?" to which Liesel and Ireland gleefully yell, "RED SOX!!!" Our Chicago-born daughter developed a cryptic smile at this point and I asked her directly, "Brigitta, are you a Red Sox fan?" She immediately blew a raspberry in my direction and I gasped. "No Brigitta! You are a Red Sox fan!!!" She laughed and again blew a raspberry at me as if to say her loyalties may just lay elsewhere where baseball is concerned. Please oh please let it be the Cubs and not the Yankees!

Story Time

The hours of 4-7pm are what's known as "the witching hour" around here. Everyone is overtired from a long day but it's not quite time to go to bed and there is SO much sibling conflict that absolutely, positively MUST be squeezed in before the sun goes down! After dinner, after bath, after telling the girls for the millionth time to brush their teeth and be sure to use toothpaste because their breath smells like a rotting, dead goat, it takes every ounce of will-power I have to make it to story time. In the past I've breezed past this and sent kids straight to bed after I call upon Ireland to say family prayer (her prayers are incredibly short). However, a few weeks ago Liesel's teacher sent home a Reading Log. Damn.

Now someone is keeping track of whether and how often I read to my kids. The goal is 2 books a day and once we do a full week, Liesel gets a sticker next to her name at school. She also gets tickets for the upcoming Halloween party. It's a dream for her, it feels like a public flogging for me. At the close of the witching hour I've been forced to ask Liesel and Ireland to pick out one book each. When we finish, I write down the date, the name of the book and my initials in Liesel's log. I don't want to do it. But I don't want my daughter to be sticker-less and ticket-less on my account and have to withstand the shame of appearing she comes from a broken home that doesn't care about literature. Oh the horror. So I reach deep into the dry well of energy I'm running on and find a way to read to my children at the close of the witching hour.

Over the past few weeks, Brigitta (who is always keen to be in on the fun) has impatiently stood on tiptoe and fussed to be put on my lap during story time. However, once she's there, she lunges for the book in one deft move of over-enthusiasm. I can't let her continually rip up the library books Liesel brings home from school (I've already taped up more than one). I can't hold her in one hand AND a book in the other very well on my disappearing lap. To be quite frank, I can't handle one more conflict as the very last shreds of my sanity fall away to reveal a mama who is raw from a long day. And at this point in this pregnancy, every day is a long day. I decided Brigitta just has to stay on the floor. She's clearly not old enough for story time. 

Tonight as I was YET AGAIN directing/cajoling/begging the girls to brush their teeth, I saw Brigitta wander into the room in my periphery. "Liesel! Use toothpaste! GIRLS!!!! Knock it off! Share the stool! Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln what is taking so long? Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Suddenly Brigitta was at my knees, grunting and impatiently stomping her feet to be held. I let out a sigh and picked her up and tried to mitigate a fight in the bathroom from my command post in the den. It wasn't until she waved something in my face that I relented and gave her a bit of my attention-- it was a book. Brigitta wanted her story time. 

The sweet innocence of my little girl asking me to carve out some time and space when I am the most exhausted, the most impatient, the most like a sham-of-a-mom caught me off guard and hit me to the core like a Mack truck. I decided to let Liesel and Ireland battle it out on their own in the middle bathroom and to Brigitta's delight, I opened the book and began to read. Her dimpled hands and chubby fingers were eager to help me turn the pages. She made a sound of surprise and pointed at one of the pictures as if she were shocked by the plot twist. When we finished, she opened it again. Just one more time Mom. So I read it again and relished a moment alone with this precious girl, our forget-me-not, who so desperately wanted to feel included and loved and read to. Tonight, it was the last bit of energy I had to give, but I gave it to Brigitta freely; the cacophony of a fight over who was taking up all the water echoing down the hall. 

Finding Happiness

My friend Audrey linked to this on Facebook and it made me so happy I had to share. Thanks Aud, you made my day!

Piper's Baptism Quilt

I frantically finished Piper's quilt so quickly I didn't have any time to take decent pictures or blog about it. My sweet so sweet sister Reagan had amazing photos taken and recently sent them to me so now I have a chance to record the thought process and symbolism I put into the quilt. I need to give absolute reverence to Debbie Lee who did the actual machine quilting on top of what I'd done and turned it from something that looked pretty good into a masterpiece. I'll be paying homage to her throughout this post. Ready? Here we go!

My modus operandi when quilting is to make it one of two sizes: large or huge. I've never been able to do a baby quilt or a lap quilt or a sampler or anything like that. It just seems so small and apologetic, I have to keep adding borders until it's bigger! I designed Piper's quilt to be just about a standard twin size which is actually pretty small for me. Given the time crunch, I was okay with it though-- especially given the method I used for quilting. To get exactly the effect I wanted, I decided to try my hand at needle-turn applique. Never mind the fact I'd never done needle-turn, let alone ANY kind of applique before. Still, this is my chosen (if insane) creative process and after viewing a couple of YouTube videos on the subject, I charged doggedly ahead. I ran out of supplies mid-project and had to make a stop at one of the many Amish quilting stores out this way. When I showed the shop ladies what I'd done they stared at me like I had lobsters growing out of my ears. All needle-turn? Yes, all needle-turn. One ventured to mention there was an easier way to do it. Yes, I could just machine applique it but this was a special project; something that was meant to be an heirloom.

When I visited Maryland during Spring Break, I took Piper to the local quilt store and let her pick out a fabric. I didn't tell her what I was going to do with it and I didn't direct her decision. She ended up choosing this gorgeous ombre purple. All of this was intentional because I find that's often how faith works. We do something not necessarily knowing the outcome. When it comes to living the gospel, the outcome is always more stunning than we could have imagined. With purple fabric in hand, I stumbled upon the ombre yellow fabric and the wheels in my head started spinning. I had images enlarged at the local copy store and then cut them out of thick plastic with an exacto knife. My intention is to use these templates over again when I make baptism quilts for my own daughters when they are of age. 

First of all, the quilt needed to have Piper's name on it. Not only does that keep it from getting stolen, but it's immediately more personal. Our Heavenly Father loves us and knows us by name so Piper's name is right there at the top. In looking at background fabrics, I found one with a flower pattern on it. The Maryland state flower is the black-eyed Susan and the floral pattern was a nice way to tie that in. Obviously I wanted white for the background because it would help the two other colors stand out and because white is the color of purity. Baptism purifies us and washes us clean from sin. I wanted the quilt to represent Piper's spiritual journey through life. I decided to have a symbol from her Primary, Young Woman and adulthood eras of life.

Debbie Lee embellishment: Next to the CTR she quilted "I Know the Scriptures are True"

Debbie Lee embellishment: Next to the YW flame she quilted "I am a daughter of God and he loves me"

Debbie Lee embellishment: Next to the Angel Moroni she quilted "Stand ye in holy places and be not moved"

Debbie Lee embellishment: By the Angel Moroni and beneath the above quote she also did this medallion of the SLC temple.

The dove of course represents the Holy Ghost as recorded in the scriptures from when Jesus Christ was baptized. I searched through dozens and dozens of images of the number 8 and finally found one where I could have the two main fabrics intertwining. Per tradition, Piper is being baptized at the age of accountability which is 8 years old. But if you turn the 8 on it's side, it becomes the symbol for infinity and her decision to be baptized is one that has eternal blessings.

Debbie Lee embellishment: She added a birthday cake next to the 8 with 8 candles and notice how the inside of the 8 is filled with repeating 8s! Genius!!!

At my request, Debbie Lee also quilted John 14:26 into the border. At the bottom center she also quilted I am a child of God. Little did she know Reagan had prepared a video of Piper growing up and it was set to the music of I Am a Child of God.

Debbie Lee embellishment: To emphasize the floral background she added more of them along the border. 

Turns out finding a fabric for the backing was a bit of a challenge. There are lots of yellow and blue prints, but not many yellow and purple. Finally I came across this tulip print which was perfect. I did the binding in the purple ombre but because I cut it so thin it doesn't stand out much.

Katrina made the label which includes this image of a child in heavenly white. She tells me the photographer creates this effect by having kids jump on a trampoline so they look like they are descending from heaven. Other contributors to the quilt were my parents and Whitney. Believe me, it was given to Piper with a whole lotta love!

To be honest, I could go on and on about what I would do differently and how it's not quite perfect and how I burned my fingers, ran out of bobbin thread, sewed, ripped out and sewed again the binding, etc.. For now I think I'll just let the quilt speak for itself. I was so happy to give it to Piper when she was in the hospital and I truly believe it offered her some measure of comfort. And after all, that was the whole point all along, right? Piper's baptism has been rescheduled for this Saturday and I believe Reagan is planning to display the quilt and read my explanation of the symbolism. I so desperately wish I could be there myself but clearly the love and intention is there, stitched into every quarter inch of fabric.