tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91344280491065335342024-03-13T07:11:32.611-06:00{hands full of happiness}Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.comBlogger416125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-38110110085582007172020-04-12T16:29:00.000-06:002021-02-17T17:52:50.661-07:00Hello from the inside.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div><br /></div><div>A month and a half ago I sat inside the hospital praying that my child would live, and today, we are all okay, but the world has completely flipped upside down. In the hospital there was a baby in an adjoining room that everyone was suiting up to go in and treat. I remember thinking, "I wonder if they are worried about that weird virus from China." Today, I can't believe that there is anyone in the world that doesn't know exactly what Covid-19 and Coronavirus are. </div><div><br /></div><div>The world has been in lock down for 3 weeks now, and while our lives haven't changed much, we are feeling the heaviness of all the implications that this virus might have on our lives. In some ways it's been nice. Evy has been able to heal without feeling like she's missing out. In other ways its been difficult, as the kids are missing their activities and friends and everything else. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am not normally an anxious person, but this whole quarantine and lockdown thing has me in knots. I don't like not knowing what my world will look like next week, let alone next year. </div><div><br /></div><div>To remember this time, and be able to look back on it and remember the good times, we had some "Front Porch Photos" done. They were actually really fun. The photographer took all the photos from the outside looking in. I think, in a few years, when this is all over, I'll be glad to have these to remember this crazy time by. </div><br />
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<br />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-32074620472080895602020-03-21T18:44:00.002-06:002021-02-17T18:57:24.361-07:00Reflection<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br style="text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: left;">Thus far nothing in my 40 years of life has prepared me for the last month. I’m so very grateful that I get to face it with these kids. They are the bravest, strongest, most wonderful children ever.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eTQidnz-BZI/YC3I-ElSirI/AAAAAAABR6A/fCp3eFpNe2IqbgY3nuppYIBF0u9kuTTNQCLcBGAsYHQ/s808/Silas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="805" data-original-width="808" height="638" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eTQidnz-BZI/YC3I-ElSirI/AAAAAAABR6A/fCp3eFpNe2IqbgY3nuppYIBF0u9kuTTNQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h638/Silas.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NlRYYgh8VAo/YC3I-JTbNOI/AAAAAAABR6E/51j3sJz4EskhN7y4Ki766R3BwqJiRmEOgCLcBGAsYHQ/s806/Evy%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="801" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NlRYYgh8VAo/YC3I-JTbNOI/AAAAAAABR6E/51j3sJz4EskhN7y4Ki766R3BwqJiRmEOgCLcBGAsYHQ/w636-h640/Evy%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="636" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MD3Z3Zf3k0w/YC3I8HObjKI/AAAAAAABR58/yoEXnMDmisojhfdursFB1syc_gkUd0KFwCLcBGAsYHQ/s807/Eli.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="807" data-original-width="804" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MD3Z3Zf3k0w/YC3I8HObjKI/AAAAAAABR58/yoEXnMDmisojhfdursFB1syc_gkUd0KFwCLcBGAsYHQ/w638-h640/Eli.jpg" width="638" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-91405289693738462192020-03-04T18:33:00.009-07:002021-02-17T18:42:19.408-07:00Lucky Us<div style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve been told how lucky Evy is that we adopted her, but the truth is, we are the lucky ones. She is strong. She is brave. She is kind. She is everything to us. From the second she was conscious she has been worried about the rest of the family. Despite her pain, and the road before her, she keeps saying how glad she is that she didn’t let her little brothers sit in shotgun, because then they would have been the ones hit. She’s told me how worried she is that Jared will feel bad, because she knows he did everything he could. This morning she cried, “Mom, why didn’t I do this for you when you broke your tail bone?! You are doing everything for me. I love you so much.” (She was 9 when I broke my tail bone!) She is absolutely incredible, and we are so glad that we have her here to bless our lives forever more. <br /></span>The hospital needed to see her walking with crutches and going up and down stairs. When she heard that she grabbed the crutches and headed for the steps! And true to their word, they sent us home! She is so happy to be sleeping in her own (new) bed, in her own makeshift room. She is amazing and will be just fine, in time. We love her so! </span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZrnTRT0RF7g/YC3E5sQXzDI/AAAAAAABR5w/EBfT5KHRPyQD2s_x3WN0X008g3MCw99ogCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_7911.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZrnTRT0RF7g/YC3E5sQXzDI/AAAAAAABR5w/EBfT5KHRPyQD2s_x3WN0X008g3MCw99ogCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_7911.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G6qa6Utd_qs/YC3E5nq9U1I/AAAAAAABR5w/ITSCOXfSxEca4cF0cj9aHaK6nrDRlTs3ACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_7909.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G6qa6Utd_qs/YC3E5nq9U1I/AAAAAAABR5w/ITSCOXfSxEca4cF0cj9aHaK6nrDRlTs3ACPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_7909.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LJ7J6efbX3Q/YC3E5i4XdZI/AAAAAAABR5w/CKDVweNGPvAlbX_pvrQCLtNeOkO4sDKHgCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_7905.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LJ7J6efbX3Q/YC3E5i4XdZI/AAAAAAABR5w/CKDVweNGPvAlbX_pvrQCLtNeOkO4sDKHgCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_7905.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-afyzCUYViYk/YC3E5tFNeOI/AAAAAAABR5w/KBM2bGAemSYMadglriWSdNIZUwp7ighPACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_7778.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-afyzCUYViYk/YC3E5tFNeOI/AAAAAAABR5w/KBM2bGAemSYMadglriWSdNIZUwp7ighPACPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_7778.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6JdHlDO68TI/YC3E5pevrwI/AAAAAAABR5w/x4sH6NHTyuIZI7aPT5F9MhjwSz8FNB6JQCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_7771.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6JdHlDO68TI/YC3E5pevrwI/AAAAAAABR5w/x4sH6NHTyuIZI7aPT5F9MhjwSz8FNB6JQCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_7771.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qpkiJlzLNe0/YC3E5orsPvI/AAAAAAABR5w/Ekn_fqOfGVA-JQutX-A0Gn7Spl_RVkqMACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_7766.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qpkiJlzLNe0/YC3E5orsPvI/AAAAAAABR5w/Ekn_fqOfGVA-JQutX-A0Gn7Spl_RVkqMACPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_7766.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />.</span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-23108394305623802922020-03-04T16:31:00.002-07:002021-02-17T18:41:21.301-07:00A Crash<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">On Saturday morning, February 29, 2020, Jared got into a motor vehicle accident with Evy, Eli and Silas. He was driving to a breakfast party at a friend’s house in Millarville when he was struck trying to avoid another dangerously driving vehicle. Everyone was wearing their seatbelts and all of the airbags deployed. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jared was able to call me from the scene, which was a miracle, because that road is notorious for having no cell signal. He said, "We've been in an accident, and it's bad. Evy's still in the car. It's bad, Jenny." </span></p><p>When I got there we were stopped far from the accident. All we could see were ambulances, police cars and car parts strewn across the road. The first responders for Priddis and Okotoks were incredible, compassionate, and kind, and also skilled and proficient. They held me up when I couldn't do it myself, and got our children safely and quickly where they needed to be. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l19BFOuf5yM/YCsE0BZfnUI/AAAAAAABRzo/fI2Zct5HMNgrH_aSVs3DFo4u7Ms4ETSQgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0011.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l19BFOuf5yM/YCsE0BZfnUI/AAAAAAABRzo/fI2Zct5HMNgrH_aSVs3DFo4u7Ms4ETSQgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>Silas was being driven away in an ambulance. My poor, sweet, little Silas. I didn't get to see him, and knew just how anxious out he would be. </p><p>Eli was in an ambulance, stable and aware. </p><p>Evy had been extracted from the car with the jaws-of-life and was on a stretcher being transferred from the back of an ambulance into STARS Air ambulance. She was unconscious and unresponsive. A firefighter carried me to her to see if I could get her to respond. Both of her hearing aids were lost in the crash, so she couldn't hear me, but when I went to her she did look at me before her eyes rolled back in her head and she was gone, again. I stood there watching as they loaded my little girl onto the helicopter and she flew away. </p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then Jared and I jumped in the ambulance with Eli, and we traveled to the </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Alberta Children's Hospital.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F8ngbnSc1KU/YCsE0_GrFxI/AAAAAAABRzw/wUFvzr_WoUUxB_edzjNI9UB7XCG9wesuQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0027.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F8ngbnSc1KU/YCsE0_GrFxI/AAAAAAABRzw/wUFvzr_WoUUxB_edzjNI9UB7XCG9wesuQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0027.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZM3oKIP76sk/YCsE1UYdmqI/AAAAAAABRz0/KBhQs5W0ZkIqopRBoG7SopzQ8yi0MEGZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0037.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZM3oKIP76sk/YCsE1UYdmqI/AAAAAAABRz0/KBhQs5W0ZkIqopRBoG7SopzQ8yi0MEGZQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eNMZWf8BSZs/YCsE0EQFmaI/AAAAAAABRzs/Ey4CDzpSeZc6qqMlyUGMqdELE_qfFv8YwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0008.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eNMZWf8BSZs/YCsE0EQFmaI/AAAAAAABRzs/Ey4CDzpSeZc6qqMlyUGMqdELE_qfFv8YwCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/IMG_0008.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DD6ieFG3vPA/YCsE0OdwcUI/AAAAAAABRzk/qPDDcUIbOLwygA-fEduUriCrW8_wEJaVwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DD6ieFG3vPA/YCsE0OdwcUI/AAAAAAABRzk/qPDDcUIbOLwygA-fEduUriCrW8_wEJaVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_KOd4_T5yQE/YCsE17QCp-I/AAAAAAABRz4/K8yQQLJnb3Qj6UPqD_mWpsUHzH0G0VRRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_7761.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_KOd4_T5yQE/YCsE17QCp-I/AAAAAAABRz4/K8yQQLJnb3Qj6UPqD_mWpsUHzH0G0VRRgCLcBGAsYHQ/w360-h640/IMG_7761.png" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Miracles continued to flow. I was able to call my best friend, who happens to be a Calgary Fire Fighter, and so therefore knows the ins and outs of the hospital emergency department, and she happened to be within minutes of the Children's, and so she was at the hospital waiting for the kids before they arrived. She was kept me up to date with their status while I was in the ambulance with Eli. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>"I'm here. Stars has landed. Kids are being treated. Both responsive."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Never had any words given me any greater relief! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's hard to describe what was going through my mind in the hospital. I was most worried about Evy, obviously, but still needed to make sure Jared and the boys were being taken care of, and make all the decisions for them. I was bouncing between three different rooms, calling orders to everyone around me. Thankfully I have an amazing family, and even before I got there the Evans sisters were in full force. Most of them came to the hospital, those who didn't were at home watching my other kids and driving around the city getting us things we needed. My brother-in-laws went around and gave everyone blessings. They brought food and they brought comfort. My brother-in-law happens to be a medical doctor, so I kept him close by as I had to make decisions I couldn't research or give any time to think about. The staff at the hospital were phenomenal, allowing us to completely take over the ER (there were 17 people there besides my family)!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Despite the severity of the accident, we are now all home. Eli went home the day of the accident sporting a cast on a broken hand. A witness at the accident told me that he was so strong. He shrugged off any help offered to him and told everyone to go help Evy and Silas. He is such a blessing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Silas spend one night at the hospital under observation, because he had some abdominal bruising and was barfing a lot. He's on concussion watch, but otherwise okay. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Evy took the brunt of the impact and suffered the most injuries. She had an open break of her femur, a broken jaw, and many lacerations to her face and head, among other bruises and cuts. She has been sewn up by plastic surgeons and her leg repaired with a titanium rod by a team of orhopaedic surgeons in a surgery that lasted 5 hours. We spent 3 nights in the hospital while she learned to get around mroe independently. She is expected to make a full recovery!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">W<span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">e love our sweet Evy so much, and are reminded how grateful we are that she is part of our family. She is such an example of strength and bravery. We appreciate continued prayers for her that she will be able to heal, both in body and spirit.</span></div><p></p>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-35635992447150290142018-11-16T19:47:00.000-07:002019-12-28T19:47:48.224-07:00Crazy Chicken LadyIt was pretty much immediately apparent that I was going to become a crazy chicken lady. For years I've ordered the Rochester Hatchery catalogue, dreaming of green eggs and fancy plumage. It was just a matter of time before I got my own little flock and lived happily ever after.<br />
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Well, luckily, the previous owners of our new home loved chickens too, and left behind a beautifully fenced chicken yard, and five gorgeous chickens. Unfortunately, 3 of those five chickens are freeloading roosters, and the two hens weren't carrying their weight in the egg department either. <br />
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Not to be deterred by the silly details of coop size or fencing, I very quickly acquired 6 young Lohmann hens! And, just a few weeks later, the little ladies graced us with our first egg!<br />
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And what's nine more? Nothing, I know, right?! And so we welcomed nine more hens-a-laying into our coop. Except, this time it was apparent that we did not have enough room. And that's where Jared and his mad carpentry skills came in - because 20 chickens were definitely not going to fit into the tiny coop that we had.</div>
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And, I'd be lying if I said that that little project took the weekend, like I expected it would. It's really become the project of the month, and still not quite finished, but we are getting there, and I can't wait to introduce the ladies to the new coop.<br />
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And now we aren't excited about one tiny egg, we are disappointed if we get anything less than 12.<br />
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So, if you live near me, and need some eggs, come on over!<br />
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-43118990685915220522018-09-16T16:02:00.000-06:002018-10-19T16:04:33.348-06:00Welcome HomeWhen I was a little girl, I went to horse camp in Bragg Creek, Alberta every summer. For one glorious week each year I got to live my little girl dreams on the back of a tired pony.<br />
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As a teenager I worked at that very horse camp, where I spent my entire summer filthy, and utterly happy.<br />
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I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point that farm became the epitome of what I wanted in my life - where I wanted to live and what I wanted to do with my life. <br />
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Fast forward about 20 years, I'd finally convinced Jared that we should move out of the city and onto a farm, and low and behold, that very farm was up for rent. <br />
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And so, naturally, we moved, again. We sold the house in the city and moved to the country!<br />
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However, no matter how loudly my childhood dreams tried to convince me, that 50 year old tiny farm house was not our dream house. As it stood there wasn't room for us, and certainly no room for us to grow. It was able to provide us with on last service: a safe place for us to be while we searched for our elusive forever home.<br />
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And that is what brings me to where I am right now, sitting in the dark, staring at the log walls of what is our new, and our forever home! <br />
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I don't know what I thought I'd feel, finally in the house I plan on calling home forever, but I don't think I'm feeling it. I am feeling stressed. I am feeling the heavy weight of finality on my heart. I'm feeling all the questions that came up when we were deciding to buy it. When Eli was younger he would react so badly when we moved - he hated to be alone anywhere in the new houses for at least 6 months - even if all I did was try to go to the bathroom by myself. I'm sitting here now, with everyone else asleep, and I'm feeling a little of what he must have felt. <br />
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I'm praying too. I'm praying for many years of happy memories. Many years of Christmas trees and Easter Egg hunts. Many years of dirt biking and horse riding. I'm praying that this home will become the safe harbor that my children will always feel welcome at, will always want to come home to. A place where generations will gather. I pray that my door will stay open to family, friends, and even strangers who may need to feel the comforts of home. <br />
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And so, on this first night of the rest of my life I sit here in quiet contemplation, resisting sleep, because that will mean that this first night is over and the real work of making this house a home begins.Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-68063042193201858602018-04-16T21:58:00.000-06:002018-04-16T21:58:29.497-06:0010 weeks and I'm pretty sure I'm rocking it<div style="text-align: center;">
It's easy to feel like a complete and totally failure in this world of tiny squares of perfect lives - but I don't believe in that kind of crap. Seriously. </div>
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I'm ten weeks into this whole mother of 6 things, and ready to celebrate the little things, like how I made the bed this morning, and last week I taught my kids science. You have no idea. That's big. </div>
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This morning we decided to go skiing, and we were out the door in 20 minutes. 20 minutes, people. </div>
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Of course, we didn't pack a lunch, and so I had to buy $8.50 bowls of soup for the boys, but what's $8.50 between friends, right?</div>
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Also, while I swear I'm not hinging my self esteem on it, I can do up my pre-pregnancy pants. I don't really fit in them, but if I lay down on the bed first, and suck in really tight, I can do them up. Also big. I attribute it to belly binding, which sounds like torture, and it kind of is, but after 6 babies I've finally put all that relaxin to work, and dang it, it works! Now if I can only drop 50 lbs, I'll fit into my pre-Silas's-pregnancy pants, and then I will have all sorts of self esteem to brag about.</div>
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Also, I've made a few meals. Like real meals with cut up vegetables and cooked meat. </div>
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And I've taken the kids on vacation to the cabin. </div>
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And I've mopped the kitchen floor. </div>
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Rocking it, I tell you. Rocking it. </div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-63711974291728759342018-04-07T20:41:00.000-06:002019-12-28T20:41:49.946-07:00<div>
I should be mopping.</div>
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I have kind of, sort of, completely and totally, slacked off over the last 10 weeks, since Edythe was born. I should be mopping, but for now I'm searching for some inspiration, for me and my kids. </div>
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There are days that I would much rather sit on the couch and knit than clean the kitchen or teach long division. There are days that I dream about sending my big kids to public school and basking in the glory of a tidy home, grocery shopping by myself, and enjoying my little ones without worrying about math equations and grammar instruction. And to be perfectly honest, I think that on those days, my kids dream about going to public school as well just to escape cranky mom. </div>
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But, I have faith that if I change things up a bit, and put in a little more effort myself, that I can change the way that things have been going lately and return to loving what I do. </div>
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What do you do to stay motivated? I need a little ispirationion. </div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-88975304967541079232018-04-06T00:06:00.000-06:002018-04-06T00:08:04.828-06:00Blessing Day - and a truly epic Blessing Gown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
On Sunday March 18, 2018 Jared blessed our sweet Edythe Rose at our church. A baby blessing is a ritual in which men who hold the Priesthood gather in a circle around a baby, and in Edythe's case, her father, pronounces her name for the records of the church, and provides a blessing for her spiritual and physical welfare. I love to see my babies, surrounded and held up by righteous men, while being blessed with a wonderful life. Edythe was surrounded by her dad, most of her uncles, her grandfathers, and a close friend. I hope that as she grows up she knows that these strong, worthy men of God will continue to support her and that she can go any one of them if she ever needs them. </div>
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No pictures are taken of the actual blessing, but we definitely took a few afterward. You see, the dress she was wearing is truly epic. It embodies 10 years of dreaming of a girl. I started crocheting this beauty when I was pregnant with Eli, and didn't finish it until after I had Atticus. I worked on it every time I got pregnant, and stopped once I had another boy. While I would have been perfectly happy to have to knit up another something for another boy, it was sure nice to see it on a little girl of my own. </div>
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All of my lovelies. Aren't they adorable!?<br />
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My biggest and my littlest. Evy is lucky to have a wonderful older sister, who has shown her just how to be a good big sister, herself. She is absolutely thrilled to have a baby sister, also. </div>
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And the boy's, who it's obvious completely adore this little nugget.<br />
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My mom and I. I'm wearing a necklace that my Grandma Jackson (Edythe) gave me at my university graduation. It's an Egyptian cartouche with "Edythe" on it in hieroglyphs. She would love to know that she has a namesake.</div>
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And 4 generations of Jared's family, his mom and Granny. Can I say how stinking lucky I am to have married into such a family!<br />
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Okay, and just a few more of Edythe and the dress, because seriously, 10 years. </div>
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<br />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-27844401697369576202018-04-05T22:58:00.000-06:002018-04-06T00:09:04.213-06:00Newborn PhotosEdythe is almost 10 weeks old! How did that happen?!? Seriously. I luckily have a very talented sister who was willing to take pictures, so that I could remember the fleeting newborn stage forever! And let's be honest, with my kids, the newborn stage is truly fleeting - according to my trusty bathroom scale, Edythe is 17 lbs - 10 lbs up from her birth weight!<br />
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The declaration has been made, quite unequivocally so, that I am never going to go through pregnancy or labour ever again - but when I look at these pictures of sweet tiny Edythe, it is easy to question my resolve. Am I seriously ready to never hold a newborn again, to never smell that sweet newborn smell again, to never dress another baby in the clothes that have been worn by all my newborns since Eli? Well, I'm not resolved enough to get rid of all those clothes just yet, that's for sure.<br />
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These pictures were taken on day 2. I love every single one of them! If they don't make your uterus ache (for those of you with a uterus), you are probably a heartless, broken mess.<br />
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-90320631904470068252018-03-31T22:03:00.000-06:002018-04-05T22:07:02.155-06:00An anniversary of sorts<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>I shared this on my Instagram, but wanted to put it here, with my other thoughts and memories about Israel. </i></span><br />
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<i><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89lLEut-t2s/WC9nhKc_xZI/AAAAAAAApaE/4ns37svKAiE2fgVSkACrCwT9e22HGPpfACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89lLEut-t2s/WC9nhKc_xZI/AAAAAAAApaE/4ns37svKAiE2fgVSkACrCwT9e22HGPpfACPcBGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0246.jpg" width="400" /></a></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">In my heart there is a place where both joy and grief collide - and I've spent the last 8 weeks trying to figure out how to reconcile the two. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Yesterday marked what would have been our stillborn baby Israel's first birthday, had he lived.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But, if he had lived, Edythe would not.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">In the weeks after Israel died I wondered if I would ever not feel the pain. Now, I honestly find it hard to even remember that sorrow that was so immense. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Until a song plays on the radio that makes me think of Israel. Or I fumble when people ask me how many boys I have, and I have to awkwardly explain that I've had 5, but only have 4. Or when I go through the bins of boy clothes to pull out what will work for Edythe, and realize that the clothes might have been worn once more, but will never be. Or when I'm scrolling through old pictures and see ones of his lifeless body or his tiny casket. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Israel's death does not consume me or define me, but it definitely is part of me. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But then there is Edythe, in all her glorious loveliness. Her pregnancy was an emotional battle: everyday that I remained pregnant felt like a victory. Her birth was the answer to countless prayers, and her life is a healing salve to my heart. I wouldn't want to live in a world without her in it. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And therein lies the struggle - how do I wish that Israel had lived while being so joyful that Edythe does? I love them both with all my heart, knowing that I could never have held them both. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">So, today I will put aside the confusion and instead hold a space in my heart for both Israel and Edythe, as that's the only place they can both exist, where I can love them both the same, with everything I have in me. </span>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-56413489083749095802018-03-03T12:41:00.000-07:002018-03-03T16:02:01.565-07:00The Home Waterbirth Story of Edythe RoseEvery woman's birth story is different, and for me, having given birth to 6 babies, I can say the same of each of my births. I've experienced everything from a cesarean section to a beautiful home waterbirth, to a stillborn delivery of my 20 week gestation son. And I've even gone through the equally difficult labour of bringing a child home through adoption.<br />
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I suppose it was foolish of me to think that the birth of my sweet Edythe Rose would be any less eventful than any other. Still, leading up to her due date, February 11, I gave little thought to the birth process, or even to the logistics of a homebirth - after all, I'd done it all before, right? To be honest though, it was probably more of a mind block than anything - because despite some wonderful birth experiences, the traumatic ones certainly leave a more lasting impression. Her pregnancy had been relatively uneventful - from a clinical standpoint. But, from an emotional place, it had been pretty terrible. I spent the first 20 weeks worried at every moment that my baby was going to die. Every twinge of pain, or reminder of Israel, sent me running for my doppler to check the heart beat. After about 20 weeks I was blessed to be able to feel her move consistently, so the doppler was used less, but still, always by my side.<br />
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On the evening of January 25th I had no expectation of having the baby any time soon. In fact, I completely assumed that I would go at least to my due date, if not beyond, and I was totally okay with that. That day my dad had offered to drive my kids into the city for a full day Forest School program they participate in, and my plan was to be totally productive at home - but I ended up just sitting around knitting and relaxing, which turned out to be exactly what I needed. The kids and Jared all came home and we had dinner together and got ready for bed as usual. Because of the severe hip pain I'd been having, I had been sleeping on the couch for several weeks, so at about 11 pm Jared kissed me goodnight and headed up to our bedroom, and I hunkered down on the couch.<br />
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I wasn't quite asleep yet, just in the place between wake and sleep, when I suddenly felt the unmistakable pop and gush that was my water breaking. I started quiet yelling for Jared - you know the one you do when you don't want to really yell, but you need to be heard? "Jared. Jared! JARED!!!" Finally he woke and groggily got up. I yelled, "Bring me a towel!" I had quickly tucked a blanket under me, but didn't want to stand up without a towel to absorb the certain gush that would follow. Once Jared realized the reason I'd so abruptly awoken him, and we sat in shock that we did not have 2 1/2 more weeks to prepare for a baby, he sprang to action fairly quickly.<br />
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The first thing we did was call our midwives. During the homebirths of Atticus and Machen I'd refused to call them until I was basically ready to push the boys out, but this time two things were different:<br />
1. We now live out in the country, 45 minutes from the city. I knew I had to give them a little heads up if I wanted them to get there.<br />
2. Even though my water had only just broken, the only other experiences I'd had with my water breaking before labour had begun were Eli's birth, which ended up in a c-section at 35 weeks, and Israel's stillbirth. With these experiences replaying in my mind, I needed the reassurance of my midwives that this time would not be like those times, which, of course, they gave me.<br />
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So, with that being done, Jared headed over to my parents' house, who live next door, and whose house we were actually planning on delivering the baby at, to set up the birth tub and such, while I tried to calm my nerves at our house and get some rest while I waited for contractions to start (oh, and frantically texting all my sisters to tell them that I was in labour!) I was excited to finally meet the little one I'd been carrying for 38 weeks, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit the amount of fear I felt: at one end of the scale, just the regular fear of labour and the pain that accompanies it, and at the other end, fear that my baby would die, like Israel did, just a year before. Sleep, therefore, did not come easily, as I lay there sorting through all those emotions, and constantly taking note of every kick and movement I felt within.<br />
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After a fitful sleep, with inconsistent and not very strong contractions all night long,but thankfully all sorts of movement from the baby, I woke up discouraged, and a little worried that I was going to do a do-over of Eli's birth. I texted this to my midwife, Wendy:<br />
"Inconsistent contractions. Not terribly strong, but stronger that BHs. Baby's moving lots, still. A little blood in my fluid. Still leaking lots, but the gushers seem to have subsided."<br />
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I spent the morning with my family, taking walks and eating good food, but by noon what little contractions I'd been having had stopped completely, and I didn't have another before 4 pm when we decided to go to the hospital to check things out. The kids all went to my sister Alice's house for the night. At the hospital they monitored baby - who was doing just fine - and did a quick ultrasound to check the baby's position - also fine. And so, we went home, hoping once again that labour would begin before too long (after we stopped at Wendy's for a Spicy Chicken dinner!) We made a date to meet at the hospital the next morning at 9 am for an induction if nothing happened over night, and to try harder to get things going naturally.<br />
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At home at 9 pm, with an electric pump in hand, I got to work. Almost immediately upon starting to pump, contractions picked up. And they were strong! So, I'd pump, pump, pump, and then sit there and contract for an hour or so. But, slowly they would slow down, and get less intense, so I'd hook up to the pump again, and they would pick up. It was exhausting, and it was in the middle of the night, and I hadn't really slept the night before either, and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I knew that I had to keep going. At one point contractions were strong enough, and I was vocalizing loud enough, that I woke Jared up. He came down to me, contracting, and frustrated with my body, and he said, "Well, I think we should just go to sleep and deal with it in the morning." Wouldn't that be nice if you could just go to bed and deal with labour in the morning...<br />
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By about 3:30 am, with constant pumping to keep contractions going we called the midwives, and they agreed it was time for them to come out. We gathered what we needed from my house and headed up to my mom's. My sister, Chloe, came over to take pictures, and my dad left to take care of her kids. By 4 am we were there with my 2 midwives, Wendy and Carol, my mom and sister, and I was already totally exhausted.<br />
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As things do in labour, the timing is all messed up in my head. At some point they checked me, and I was only 6 cm. I was pissed (really, that's the only way to describe it.) I had been contracting HARD for HOURS, and I was only 6 cm! As long as I was pumping, the contractions would keep up, but the contractions were so hard, like transition hard, and I hated every minute of it. What I really wanted was to go to the hospital and have an epidural and sleep and just get the whole thing over with - except for the fact that I hate hopsitals, and doctors, and 40 minute drives to hospitals when I'm in labour. So, at home I stayed, but not without lots of complaint, and a few expletives to boot.<br />
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I so desperately wanted to be in the birth pool, but when I'd get in, while it felt like heaven, the contractions would stop. And so the midwives would pull me out, I'd hook up again to the pump, get contractions going strong, only to get back in the pool and have them stop again. It was so frustrating, and I honestly just kept thinking, "If this is going to end up with me in the OR with a cesarean, lets just cut to the chase and go to the hospital right now. Why am I suffering through this?!" But, the midwives remained optimistic (annoyingly so, if you would have asked me in the moment) that all was fine, and that if we could just keep things going that we would have the baby soon. They suggested I get dressed and go for a walk - outside - something I had no interest, whatsoever in doing (it was -14 degrees Celsius out!) So, instead, I walked the stairs, and around the house. While I moved, contractions kept coming, and while I pumped, they came even harder. But still, I was not progressing as fast as I felt like I should. I was sure I'd gone through transition twice already, but I really hadn't, and I just needed a nap!<br />
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At some point the discussion was had that if we were going to go to the hospital we needed to make a decision, considering the 45 minute drive. It was after 9, because earlier I heard Wendy call the hospital to tell them we wouldn't be coming in for the induction at 9, but I don't know exactly what time it was. I was convinced to try one more time to get things moving, to pump consistently, to stay out of the pool, and to have this baby soon. So, that's what we did. I lay on my side on the couch and pumped. I hated every minute of it, and every time a contraction would start I'd pull the darn thing off, only to have the Carol pass it to me again immediately after. I begged to get back in the pool, but was told no because we needed to keep things moving. It felt like forever, but it mustn't have been too long. Finally my Carol said I could get into the pool if I'd go have a few contractions on the toilet. I HATE having contractions on the toilet. I think with both Tuck and Mac's labours I went through transition on the toilet. Well, that remained consistent. I went to the bathroom, had three MAJOR contractions right on top of each other that almost ripped me in half, and that was that. I got in the pool, and it was go time - no more pumping, no more stalling, no more hope of an epidural and a nap.<br />
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In the pool the contractions were strong, but so much better than on the couch or the toilet. Jared held me under my arms while falling asleep himself. I was so, so tired. Between contractions I just cried that I wanted to sleep. At some point I was so frantic that I started hyperventilating, which caused my hands to cramp up really strange, and shake, which freaked me out and made me even more frantic. Here I was, supposed to push out a baby, and I couldn't control my own hands. At some point Carol checked me in the water to see if there was a lip there that she could push away, but all was fine. She told me that it would all be over, and all I needed to do was to push the baby out. But, I was waiting for the urge to push: the primal feeling that would take over my body and expel the baby itself. I was too tired to do it myself. Many contractions went by, with me crying that I couldn't do it, and Carol telling me I could. I could feel the top of her head easily in me, but just couldn't find the energy to push her our. Finally it occurred to me, that just like everything else in this labour, my body wasn't going to do it on it's own, and I was just going to have to help it along, or be in labour FOREVER, which wasn't really a viable option. So I pushed. I think it only took two or three contractions to get her out once I decided to do it, but it felt like the hardest thing I'd ever done. I was just so tired, and my hands were still cramped and shaking, and I was still a little disappointed that I couldn't have that epidural. But I pushed, and out she came. It was 11:40 am. So, while it had been a very long 36 hours, I really had only been in active, hard labour for about 2 - the rest was spent trying hard to get there. <br />
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We didn't have an ultrasound during our pregnancy, and didn't know what we were having. After already having 5 boys, I was pretty sure we were having another. As the baby came out, I yelled, "Here he comes!" But, I pulled the baby up, and to everyone's surprise, HE was actually a SHE!!! Everyone was so excited - my mom was crying, Jared was giddy - but to be honest, I was so tired, all I could think about was taking a nap, and that I was relieved that we didn't have to come up with another boy name (we'd had Edythe picked out since we were pregnant with our first).<br />
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It didn't take long for the cord to stop pulsing. We all just sat and admired her while we waited. The midwives gave me a dose of oxytocin to help along the placenta delivery and uterine contractions, something I didn't take after my other homebirths, but was willing to do considering the distance to the hospital in the case that something might have happened. I think, due to that, I delivered my placenta much faster and easier than I had in the past. We collected it in a bowl so that I could have it encapsulated.<br />
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I got out of the pool as soon as the placenta was delivered and went with the baby into the bedroom. Very shortly after we got in there Alice brought my kids over to meet their new baby sister. They were all surprised, and very excited. <br />
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It was Silas's turn to cut the cord (Eli had cut Atticus's, and Evy had cut Machen's), but he didn't want to, and neither did Atticus, so Jared cut it. Carol then checked the baby and me, to make sure all was well. I didn't tear a bit. Then she examined the placenta, showing it to the kids and explaining how amazing it is. Then the kids helped weight and measure Edythe. She weighed in at only 6 lbs 12 oz and was 21 inches long.<br />
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She wasn't (and still isn't) the strongest nurser, I think because she was so tiny compared to me, but she did latch on and get some milk right away in the pool, and again on the bed. After all that pumping, I was primed and ready to go, so even with a weak latch, she got lots of colostrum right off the bat.<br />
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At some point someone brought me something to eat, and a big glass of orange juice to drink, and once all the business had been taken care of Edythe was passed around for everyone to admire. It was obvious that she was the star of the show! And finally, once everyone had gotten enough, they left the room, and I finally got to sleep!<br />
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-84453596555840201032017-12-16T23:30:00.000-07:002019-12-28T20:42:12.169-07:00Santa Came Early!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Santa was definitely not messing around this year. Not messing around at all. He wasn't interested in bringing knick knacks or toys. He was going for something epic. Truly epic. So, surprising us all, he showed up 9 days early with an incredible gift for the whole darn family - and when I say WHOLE family, I really mean it!</div>
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Okay, my picture taking skills are really lacking these days, but give me a break - who would have expected a visit from Santa on December 16th? Not me. We woke up to a room full of swimming suits, snorkel gear, and air plane tickets to Hawaii!!! And, only 3 hours to pack and leave for the air port. </div>
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Oh, and did I mention me being 33 weeks pregnant? It's true.<br />
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But the fun didn't stop there. After a frantic morning of excited packing, we got to the airport, and what to our wondering eyes should appear, but 41 Evans's waiting for us there!!!<br />
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Yup, all 41 of us - my parents, their 8 kids and spouses, and 25 grandchildren. Imagine, for a minute, what that flight to Hawaii was like? Never mind the sheer numbers of us all, but the fact that we had woken up that morning to find out we were going to Hawaii for 10 days, and shown up at the airport to find out that we were going there with 41 of our favourite people. I'll be honest, it was total madness. Glorious, wonderful madness.<br />
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Again, my photography skills were severely lacking.<br />
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Oh Santa, you tricky devil - we love you so and your well laid plans.<br />
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-37939897472988318992016-12-18T11:07:00.000-07:002018-03-03T12:42:59.601-07:00In which I discuss the hard things...It's been 6 weeks since we buried our Israel Blaine. Millions of thoughts and emotions have gone through my mind over the past 6 weeks. I have been overcome with grief, buoyed up by so many, and moved on to living what seems to be a perfectly normal life. I spent 2-3 weeks at home, eating chocolate, and facing the new reality. But, I've got 5 children, and they have lessons to learn, classes to be at, and lives to live. And so I've picked myself up, and carried on. And, I'm doing just fine. I really am. I can carry on normal conversations. I can laugh at jokes. I can host dinner guests. I can even talk about the baby without crying. But every once in a while something hits me and I realize that I am still sad.<br />
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The thing about having delivering a baby at 20 weeks is that the baby is just on that cusp "real". If delivered before 20 weeks, a mother would have to go to the ER, not Labour and Delivery. The baby would be considered a "product of conception," not a baby, at all. There would be no blanket to wrap him in, there would be no need to arrange for his body. The loss would be considered a miscarriage rather than a stillbirth. <br />
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But, once you hit that magical 20 week mark, you enter a new realm. The hospital staff handled us so delicately. They wrapped his body up in knits lovingly created by a wonderful knitter. The nurse by my side kept saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Sweet baby, poor sweet baby." They took pictures of Israel for us to take home to remember him. They filled a little bag with tiny mementos. They brought in a social worker, and the funeral home offered their services for free. <br />
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In the real world, the line isn't drawn so clearly. Most people have been totally wonderful, and I'm surprised by how many people have either experienced a similar loss, or someone close to them has. There are also those who don't understand the loss. But, what is clear, is that no matter what gestational age my baby was, I did, with complete certainty, have a baby, and lose a son. My body doesn't know that he was only 20 weeks along. My breasts still filled with milk, ready to nourish him. My hair still began to fall out in fistfuls. I still bled for weeks, a constant reminder of what I lost. But, in one terrible morning I went from a glowing pregnant woman, to not. And, despite what I was feeling within my body, it only took a few days for me to look completely normal, too. For this, my fifth pregnancy, I had finally bought new maternity clothes. Just two weeks before the baby died I bought a whole new wardrobe. And, just two days after he died, I packed it all away and brought out my "pre-pregnancy" clothes.<br />
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And so I carry on, driving to the back of the parking lot, past the "Parking for Parent With Child" spots, because I am definitely not with child, turning off the radio whenever there is a song that makes my heart weep, clinging to any opportunity I get to hold another newborn, which breaks my heart a little, but also ads just a portion of healing balm to it at the same time.<br />
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And, I'm trying to make something good of it, as well. I've started a knitting project: #20setsin20weeks. Having had a hand knit blanket and hat for our sweet Israel meant so very much to me. Never in a million years could I have imagined that I would need such tiny knits, but because of the sweet generosity of an anonymous knitter, I was able to bury Israel in those. It was such a tender mercy to me. I have started knitting blankets and hats to donate back to the hospital for other families going through the same thing, with the hope that they will provide the same comfort that the knits Israel was given brought to me. Today I finished my sixth set, and intend on knitting 14 more - 20 in total: one for each week he grew inside me. The days are definitely getting easier, and with each blanket that I knit, I feel just a little more put together, as though the stitches in the blanket are somehow mending my broken heart.<br />
<br />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-19965950875401366972016-11-18T18:39:00.000-07:002016-11-18T18:39:39.573-07:00Stillness - Israel Blaine's Stillbirth StoryThere are very few moments of stillness in my life. With 5 kids, a certain level of constant commotion is inevitable. This past week, however, the idea of stillness has broken my heart, questioned my faith, and reminded me of the power of motherhood. <br />
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This forgotten little corner of the internet has been only my means of documenting the very most important moments in our family's life over the past few years: the births of babies and the adoption of our daughter. We have been hit with a sorrow that I have found difficult to process, and in order to process, I need to write things out. So here I am, writing a story I never imagined I would ever have to write, months earlier than the very opposite tale I had planned on telling will now never be told. This story won't be eloquent or beautiful, but it is real, and it needs to be told.<br />
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This summer we got pregnant with our 6th baby. We were ecstatic. However, with a history of early miscarriage, we were also cautious. I've birthed 4 babies, and I've had a miscarriage before each successful pregnancy. All 4 of those miscarriages happened before I reached 8 weeks pregnant though. So, when I hit 8 weeks, and I was still dry heaving into the toilet, I allowed myself to start planning for our March baby. When we went in to see our midwife at 13 weeks, and heard our little one's heartbeat, I was certain we were in the clear. We had, for once, avoided a miscarriage, and we were going to have a baby without going through that heartbreak. <br />
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So we announced. Facebook. Instagram. Even my professional pages got the message. <br />
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Yay! I continued to be sick until 16 weeks. I got big, fast. I bought new maternity clothes. I bought new baby carriers. I wondered where in the world was I going to fit another dresser in our tiny house for this new member of the family. I took exactly 3 pictures of me pregnant.<br />
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Then the unthinkable happened. Most miscarriages happen early on. They usually happen behind the closed door of a private bathroom. My 5th miscarriage started out that way. It ended with me in the hospital, having gone through labour, delivering my fifth baby boy, stillborn.<br />
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I didn't realize how important it was for me to tell this story until I got a text from a dear friend who has also had a stillborn baby. In her text she said, "Tell me about your sweet little boy." I've been surrounded by love, lifted up in ways I have so desperately needed, but nobody else has asked me about my baby boy and I didn't realize how desperately I needed that question to be asked. If he had lived everyone would want to know about his birth, his weight, who he looked like, how we named him, and so on. His death does not negate his existence, and neither does the fact that he was only 20 weeks gestation, because he did live, if only inside of me, and he was loved, and he was wanted, and he will always be missed. His birth story is the only story I will ever have of his to share.<br />
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I woke up, 20 weeks pregnant, with severe cramps. I'd been having surprisingly strong Braxton Hicks for the day before: strong enough that I had mentioned to my sister that they felt like period cramps, not Braxton Hicks, and complained to Jared that if I had to go through 5 months of them, I would not be a happy momma. In the middle of the night I found myself lying in bed in such pain that I couldn't lay there any more. If I had any inclination of what was to come, I would have recognized the signs of early labour. But, in ignorance, I figured a trip to the bathroom would solve it. And so I sat, and one cramp later, the unmistakable feeling of my water breaking, and the toilet filled with blood and mucus.<br />
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I walked out of the bathroom, and like I had 4 times before, informed Jared that I was miscarrying, again. The difference was, this time, that I was in labour, and I was 20 weeks along, and my baby was the size of a banana, and I knew I needed to go to the hospital. We called my parents to come be with the kids while they slept, and drove to the hospital. <br />
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At about 3:15 am our midwife met us in triage, and tried to find the heartbeat. There was none. A doctor came with an ancient ultrasound machine and tried to get a heartbeat. There was none. I already knew that though. I had felt my water break. I had seen the blood. I knew that our baby was gone. All that was left for me to do was let my body do what it had already started doing, and wait until our baby came. And so we waited.<br />
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My contractions got stronger, but not terrible. I asked if I could get an epidural, because, to be honest, I didn't want to feel. I wanted it all to be over. I didn't know how intense it would get, and I didn't want to find out.<br />
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The doctor checked me along the way, and when I was only 2 cm dilated she said that she could feel my baby's feet coming out. It wouldn't be long. I wasn't surprised, because the familiar "pushy" contractions were happening. They said they would take me to a private room and I could get an epidural if I liked, but just moments later that was no longer necessary. <br />
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At 7:52 am he came. A sweet, perfect, tiny little boy. And until that very moment I had no idea the pain I would feel, the sorrow that would rush through me, the heartache that would totally consume me. I wailed. I knew there were other moms in triage, preparing to give birth to healthy, beautiful babies, and I felt bad for them having to listen to me, but I couldn't stop myself. As his lifeless body slid out of me, and the nurses placed him on my stomach, I realized exactly how much I loved him, and wanted him, and needed him. But he was gone. <br />
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They proceeded as if everything were normal. They clamped his cord. I got to cut it. They shot me up with oxytocin so I would deliver the placenta (which apparently is often stubborn at such an early stage.) They wheeled me off to another room where they would clean and weigh him, take his hand and foot prints, and wrap him up in a hand knit blanket and hat. He was 3.6 oz. Tiny. So tiny that even if he had been born alive, he could not have survived. So tiny that I couldn't tell you who he looked like. He did have long feet though - just like Eli.<br />
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Jared and I spent a few hours with him. The only few hours we will ever get to spend with him. We named him quicker than any of our other children: Israel Blaine, and cried over the life he would not live. We kissed him, and told him how much he was loved. <br />
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And then we left. We gathered our things, and we left the hospital. We left our baby there, and went home to continue on with our life without him. We left, with empty arms, and the task of planning his burial on our minds.<br />
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Three days later we buried him. We had to pick out a casket, a burial plot, a grave marker. We had to decide what he would be buried in, and if he should be embalmed. These are things that I know many parents have had to do, but I never thought I would be one of them. We buried him right across from his cousin, Amelia, who died in 2010. Atticus insisted on helping us carry him from the hearse to the grave. We let him.<br />
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I had no idea. I had no idea what it would feel like. What it would feel like to go through labour and hold the body of a baby I would not know. I think that many believe that 20 weeks must hardly feel like a baby, no different than losing a pregnancy at 6 or 8 or 12 weeks, which for me were relatively easy. And for some, perhaps that would be true. I think that many believe that because he never really lived, then he didn't really die, that he was "just" 20 weeks or "just" stillborn. But the fact is, as I've learned, without experiencing it, without holding that little body, without grieving over the life that would not be lived, without carrying the casket with the baby that you delivered inside it, there is no way to know what that grief feels like. Israel Blaine was as real to me as any of my other babies. And he will be loved as long as I live. And in some ways, I'm afraid to do that. To live. I am afraid to move on. To not feel the pain that he left behind any more. To forget what his tiny body felt like in my hands. To forget how much I loved him. I'm afraid that he will be forgotten. I cry, wondering if his little life matters to anyone else. I wonder if God can love him as much as I would have. I wonder if my body can ever be trusted again. I'm left trying to figure out how to go on with the living without losing the part of me that was him. </div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-28081389881179072462015-12-17T17:35:00.002-07:002015-12-18T09:26:36.416-07:00My Girl BeforeOne of the strangest things that happens to me as a mom of an older adopted child is meeting people who knew her before I knew her. It's happened a few times to me, where I've run into people who knew my little girl when she really was little, when she still lived with her birth family and her life and my life were not one, as they are now.<br />
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Today it was the tutor we've hired to teach us ASL. She walked into my house, and while I was meeting her for the first time, she not only knew my daughter, but she also knew her story, and therefore part of my story. </div>
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It's hard to know how to react to that. On some level I wanted to ask her things about my child that I don't know, that surely this stranger must: what was she like at 3 years old, did she have any pictures of her from the birthday parties she attended or the school gatherings she took part in. I was also tempted to question her on the birth family that I don't know, but is forever entwined with my family. </div>
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But, I can't ask any of those questions. How, as a mother, do I ask a stranger intimate details about my own child. My child, who has spent less than half her life in my arms. My child, who I feel like I know so well, but have known for so short a time. I just smile, say (or rather, attempt to sign) how strange it is, and carry on with the intention of our meeting. </div>
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Yet, here I sit, hours later, still thinking about her, and about the relationships that my daughter had before she was mine. How do I honor that past, when I know so little about it? How do I help her understand her path, when I've not been walking beside her all along?</div>
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Do you know what I do? I try my hardest to keep a safe place in our home for those memories and years that we weren't together. Despite not being together, the time before the adoption in both our families belong to all of us. The memories I have of my past are collective memories that she gets to share, and the sweet, and increasingly fleeting, memories that she has of her life before foster care I hold sacredly for her, so that when she needs them, they will be around.</div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-58424011563190134852015-11-03T17:29:00.000-07:002015-11-05T11:34:33.564-07:00Taking it back!Today is the first really "wintery" day of winter. It's cold, and dark, and oh so obviously winter. I shouldn't complain. We've been really spoiled this year. I mean, my kids went trick-or-treating in just their costumes, not in their snow suits with their costumes pulled tightly overtop. Still, it is with just a bit of trepidation that I sort through the winter gear, knowing that the beautiful days of fall are now, officially gone, and the months of winter are setting, firmly, in. <br />
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So, what have I done today to mark the occasion? I've sat curled up in front of my computer reading old blog posts. Every. Single. One. Don't worry, I did it after the kids finished their school work, and went to piano lessons. I'm not really sure what they are doing now, but they've not come upstairs in at least two hours, which is, incidentally, enough time to scroll through 6 years of blog posts.<br />
<br />
I like this blog. It makes me happy. Reminders of Eli and how little he once was; videos of little Silas saying his first words; pictures of the first nights that Evy ever spent with us; and, the birth stories of both Atticus and Machen. Oh, how I do love this blog. <br />
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But, it's painfully obvious how much I've missed in the past 3 years. Since the adoption process began, I have found it so hard to share what is going on. The emotions have been too real, and too raw. But, with finalization now behind us, I feel a need for normalcy, and record keeping is one of those things that feels normal to me. The things I have shared have been vague and generic, and I don't like being either of those things.<br />
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Also, although I never planned on it, my knitting patterns have taken over a bit. I love knitting, and I love designing, but this has become a dumping place for my new patterns, and that's about it. <br />
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So, I'm taking this here blog of mine back. And, I'm giving my knits a home of their own. If you want to keep up to date about my yarny adventures, head on over to <a href="http://vangyknits.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">VANGY Knits</a>. And, if you want to stay connected with the Wiebe family and what we're up to, stick around here at {hands full of happiness}. I look forward to keeping better records, and I hope you do too!Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-21046542566043204242015-07-16T12:26:00.002-06:002015-07-16T12:27:36.725-06:00Orleans - A Knitting Pattern<span style="font-family: inherit;">While I don't have little girls to knit for, I can't help myself sometimes. This little dress was stuck in my head, and too perfect not to knit, even if I don't have a 2 year old girl to put in it!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/orleans-3" target="_blank">Orleans</a> is now available on Ravelry for $5.50. Go ahead and check it out, along with all the projects made by other fabulous knitters: <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/badges/redirect?p=orleans-3"><img src="http://api.ravelry.com/badges/projects?p=orleans-3&t=.gif" style="border: none;" /></a> and then go ahead and </span><a href="http://www.ravelry.com/purchase/jenny-wiebe-designs/282252"><img border="0" src="http://www.ravelry.com/images/shopping/buy-now.gif" /></a>!!!<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/orleans-3" target="_blank">Orleans</a> is a simple dress with puffed sleeves and a gathered skirt. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is knit in two pieces to add stability and create a seam. The bodice is knit first, from the top down. The live sts are then put on hold while the skirt is worked from the bottom up. The pieces are joined using a 3 needle bind off, making it entirely seamless!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There are four options outlined for the skirt: Full Skirt or Narrower Skirt in either dress or tunic length. The sample is the full skirt dress in size 2 years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The pattern is written for girls aged 3 months to 10 years and knit with fingering/sock weight yarn. </span></div>
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<br />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-74655243319449875162015-06-16T20:39:00.000-06:002019-12-28T20:39:41.450-07:00An introduction<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Hi there! My name is Jenny. Welcome
to {hands full of happiness}! I'm glad you stopped by.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">This is not a craft blog. It is not a
mommy blog. It is not a homeschool blog or a any other sort of blog. It is just
a random assortments of things that are me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am a crafter, mostly interested in fiber
arts, and by that I mean I knit All. The. Time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am a mommy. I have 6 amazing children, 1
daughter who came to us through public adoption and 4 incredible boys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I homeschool. It's challenging, rewarding
and exhausting all at once, but I love it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am defined by my children in almost
every way, and I'm totally okay with that. Of all the spectacular things
that I've done in my life, being a momma to my little flock is by far the
best. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Daily I dream of living on a farm. I
want chickens and horses and goats. I want my kids to know what it is to
work hard. I want wake up in the morning and drink my tea on my porch and
not see another house anywhere near. I want to spend my day teaching my
children wonderful things, making beautiful crafts with them. I want to
have a nutritious dinner on the table for my family every day, a dinner I make
from scratch from the stuff I grew and raised on my farm. After the
littles are asleep I want to leisurely spend the evening creating beautiful
things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">However, in the real world I live in a
house too small for the seven people who live here, a tiny yard from which I
can see into the kitchens of no less than 12 neighboring houses, and most days
I am just trying to survive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I try to live my life very
deliberately. While it is sometimes exhausting, I feel that we shouldn't
just do the little things we can, but everything we can to protect our
children, ourselves and our earth from all the crap out there. I believe
in a whole lot of things, and I try very hard to walk the talk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter Day Saints.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in natural birth, that it's safe
and in most cases the best option.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in breastfeeding beyond infancy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in making informed decisions
about vaccinations and healthcare.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe that baby boys are perfect and
should be able to make their own choice about circumcision.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in co-sleeping and baby wearing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe our children should be treated
with kindness, love and respect, always, not threatened with separation,
coercion or harsh punishments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in learning at home and allowing
my children to learn at their own pace and according to their own interests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I believe in apologizing when I make
mistakes ALL. THE. TIME.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I don't have many secrets, so if you have
a question about me and the way I do things, feel free to ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Welcome to {hands full of happiness}, and
please enjoy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-29765503295489603692015-03-24T16:12:00.000-06:002015-03-24T16:38:28.551-06:00The Birth Story of Machen Thomas Wiebe<div class="MsoNormal">
While
Machen’s pregnancy was very much wanted, it also came during one of the most
stressful years of our lives. It was the same year that we were waiting to have
our sweet Evelyn home with us and was filled with Social Service visits,
adoption training, and endless waiting. We got pregnant in July 2013, and lost
that baby in September, on the same day that we were told that Evy had to move
back to her foster home after living with us for 4 months, to await official
approval. When we got pregnant again in November, we couldn’t have been more
thrilled. We were still dealing with the work involved with bringing Evy home, but
the prospect of another addition to our family was such a joy.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
pregnancy was hard: both physically and emotionally. I was sick for the first
part, and my hips and pelvis hurt terribly through the latter part. I felt that
with everything else going on, I didn’t have time to prepare for the actual
birth, and hoped that all the previous experiences I had would get me through. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, when
I was 38 weeks pregnant, I got into an accident. I went out for a horseback
ride, and my horse, who normally didn’t give me any trouble, bucked me off. I
landed on my bum, and so the baby was fine, but I broke my tailbone and was in
severe pain. While before the accident I had been hoping that the baby would
come sooner than later, after the fall I started praying that he would just stay
put for a few more weeks, so that I could heal. I couldn’t lie on my back or
sit up at all, in fact, I could barely walk, and I didn’t want to go into
labour while I was so immobile. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On July 27,
a Sunday evening, just 10 days after the accident, I knew labour would be
starting soon. My water hadn’t “broke,” but I was leaking a little, and I just
knew that my body was ready. While we were sitting outside with the kids in the
evening enjoying the warm summer night, I told Jared I thought that that night
would be the night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went to
bed early, and slept well. I woke up at 5 am, before Jared woke up to go to
work, with mild contractions. They were very gentle, but they were consistently
about 10 minutes apart, so I knew I had been right and that I would soon meet
my baby. When Jared woke up I told him that I didn’t want him to go into work,
and that we should probably get the birth stuff ready.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I
was leaking amniotic fluid, but was not actually in labour, I did have a fear
that it would be a replay of Eli’s birth – days of waiting, followed by a caesarean.
Thankfully, after Atticus’s birth I knew my body could do it, and so I hoped
things would move along quickly. I was very apprehensive though because of the
pain I was still in due to my fall. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By 10 am I
was confident that labour had begun, and I called the appropriate people to let
them know. Chloe and Joan, who were going to come over to take pictures and
help with the big kids, and the midwives. I told them all that I was doing fine
and would let them know when I need them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent
most of the morning and early afternoon in bed. I napped with Atticus, cuddling
with my “baby” one last time. I listened to my hypnobabies tracks. At 2:30 things
still hadn’t really picked up, but were remaining consistent. I was definitely in
labour, just not very strong labour. At this point the whole family gathered
together for a family prayer – just the kind of strength and support that I
needed at the time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After Tuck’s
nap I decided to go downstairs to knit and watch TV. Jared continued to watch
the kids upstairs and in the backyard. I finished two little hats, and began another
while I was in labour. About ½ way through the third hat I’d had enough of the TV
show I was watching (Downton Abby, for those who are interested), and was
finally having contractions that I couldn’t just sit through. I think things
were more painful than they otherwise would have been because my movement was
so limited due to my broken tailbone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I lost track
of time through here, but at some point Chloe and Joan showed up. My mom
brought dinner for everyone, and I was mildly aware that while I was labouring
downstairs, my entire family was having a party in my backyard. My dad, two
brother-in-laws and my nephews were even out back! <o:p></o:p></div>
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I finally got into the tub. I did
not want to slow contractions down by getting in to the water, but I knew how
good it would feel to be in there. I laboured for a while in the tub. At some
point each of the kids came down to check on me. Silas was especially
interested. I didn’t mind them there, and looking back feel that I managed
contractions better when they were there because I had to not scream. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Things
started to get to a point where I felt I couldn’t manage contractions any more.
At 7:37 pm I told Jared to call the midwives, hoping that they could help. In
the pool things were so much better, but I could really only be in two
positions: on my knees with my arms over the side, or kind of propped on one
side, not on my bum, but up on one knee. On both knees seemed to work best. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m not
sure when the midwives got there. It must have been shortly after 8. Carol,
Wendy, and the student, Janelle, all came. I was not thrilled to see Janelle
there, but was so consumed that I didn’t really care. They worked me through a
few contractions, and then I felt the baby descend. I told them I wanted my
kids down, and so someone ran upstairs to get them. Once they got down there I
actually didn’t want them right there, so I sent them back to one of the bedrooms.
I didn’t want them to see me like that; I was really not dealing very well, and
didn’t want the kids to see that part of it. Later
Jared said that I was being pretty funny, but I felt dead serious as I demanded
to go to the hospital, an epidural, to adopt next time. I yelled at Janelle to
not talk, because every time she opened her mouth I was annoyed. (The funny
thing is, I really like Janelle. She was at all of my prenatal appointments and
was really nice. I just didn’t want her to tell me what to do!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Right after
the kids went back to the room, my water actually broke with a POP! Immediately after that my body started to push.
It was the same as with Atticus’s birth where I didn’t really push, my body
just did it. I pushed once and his head was out, and another and his body was
out. The kids came out immediately and met their new brother. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Although we
didn’t know if we were having a boy or a girl, when I looked to find he was
another boy, I was not at all surprised. It was as if I had known all along. He
was so sweet. When he first came out the midwives said, “Jenny, here’s your
baby, reach down and get your baby.” And I just stayed there on my hands and
knees and ignored them for a minute. Even though if felt like it went on
forever, I had gone from totally manageable pain, through transition, to baby
out, it one hour. Machen was born at 8:37 pm, exactly an hour after we called
the midwives. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We waited
for the cord to stop pulsing and then Evy got to cut it. I waited for my
placenta to deliver, but ended up having to stand up and squat in order to push
it out. The midwives were very hands off for that part – they didn’t try to
pull on the cord, but told me how to, and just told me different things to try
to get the placenta out. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Looking
back on the events of the labour I see that it really wasn’t that bad, and that
it actually was very similar to Tuck’s birth, except that early labour was
longer. But, it really felt so much worse. I was a little shell shocked after
the fact. I think it was partly because of the accident, and me not ready to go
into labour, but it was also because I went into it emotionally unprepared. I
had spent all of my energy on Evy’s adoption throughout the pregnancy, and had
little left for the intensity of the labour. Also, I think with Tuck I had
something to prove – I had to know if my body could deliver a baby or not. This
time I had nothing to prove, and I really just wanted it to be over. I feel bad
that I felt that way, but that’s how it went.</div>
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Machen’s
Apgar scores were 9 and 9. He was exactly 8 lbs at 19 ½ inches long. When he
first came out of the water he just snuggled into my chest. After a bit he let
out a little wail but really didn’t cry that much. He nursed on my left breast
like champ, while we were still in the pool, and lying down in the bed (because
I couldn’t sit up) when we got up to my bedroom. Right from the start he was a star nurser.
Heavenly Father blessed me with a good nurser, because he must have known that
with my injury I wouldn’t have been able to handle it otherwise. </div>
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-67603305817830638512015-03-04T10:47:00.002-07:002015-03-04T10:48:29.931-07:00Little Old Man Collection - Knitting PatternsAs evidenced by my last post, I have a thing for old man sweaters. I could dress my boys in them every day of the week if they'd let me. I've designed enough now to dress each of my boys in a different Old Man Sweater. I can also bundle all the patterns up into a nice little bundle and offer them to knitters at a fantastic price! Here they are: <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/elwood" target="_blank">Elwood</a>, <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/grow-old-with-me" target="_blank">Grow Old With Me</a>, <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/calaway" target="_blank">Calaway </a>and <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/the-afternoon-knows" target="_blank">The Afternoon Knows</a>. <div>
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And, because I'm excited about all of them, and because I love offering a good deal to knitters everywhere, if you purchase <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/sources/little-old-man-collection" target="_blank">The Little Old Man Collection</a> before March 15, 2015, you can get it for only $10! You can head over to Ravelry and purchase it there, or you can buy it right here, right now:</div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/purchase/jenny-wiebe-designs/261517"><img border="0" src="http://www.ravelry.com/images/shopping/buy-now.gif" /></a></div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-37020913009309717812015-03-03T11:12:00.000-07:002015-03-03T11:12:45.617-07:00Elwood - A Knitting Pattern<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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I keep thinking I should be knitting things for me: after all, my kids don't really appreciate the time and effort involved in designing and knitting a sweater (let's be honest, they couldn't care less if I put them in a dirty sweatshirt every day of the week.) But, when I pick up my needles all I can think of is darling designs for them. And so, the stitches turn into rows, and the rows turn into whole little sweaters, and this boy is dressed in hand knit goodness yet again!</div>
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Here's <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/elwood" target="_blank">Elwood </a>(the sweater, not the boy.) It's a very simple raglan sweater, but with bold stripes and a textured collar, it provides all the makings of the perfect old man sweater! My Grandpa Elwood would have rocked this sweater!<br />
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And, the most fantastic thing about this design is that I sized it from 6 months to adult XL, so you can knit it for everyone! As usual, I'm blown away by other knitters projects. Check out all the amazing sweaters being knit:<br />
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This pattern can be yours for only $5.50. So, go ahead and buy it. Buy it now!<br />
<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/purchase/jenny-wiebe-designs/261515"><img border="0" src="http://www.ravelry.com/images/shopping/buy-now.gif" /></a><br />
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<br />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-10711204961319522032015-01-14T01:00:00.001-07:002015-01-14T01:00:49.292-07:00Calaway - A Knitting PatternWhen I'm out and about and see cute sweaters, sometimes I become a little bit of a creeper. Seriously. Like this one time when I was at Calaway park and I saw this little girl in the most darling red sweater, and I followed her around for long enough to determine the stitch pattern... Ya, like that.<br />
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Anyway, turns out I put my creeping to good use. </div>
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Introducing my newest knitting pattern: Calaway!</div>
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Um, first of all, is my little nephew not the cutest thing EVER?!? Seriously.<br />
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But check out the sweater! Darling, eh? The cable pattern on the front is really easy. It's knit top down and is totally seamless. And, I've sized it from 6 months to 12 years, so whomever is on your knit worthy list, you can make this one for them!It doesn't get much better than that! And, the whole pattern can be yours for just $5.50! That's right folks. So go ahead, plunge in, <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/purchase/jenny-wiebe-designs/249160"><img border="0" src="http://www.ravelry.com/images/shopping/buy-now.gif" /></a><br />
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-75658264946118698202014-11-18T21:29:00.000-07:002014-11-18T21:33:52.008-07:00Indie Designer Gift-A-Long 2014What is a Gift-A-Long, you ask? Well, it's an opportunity to join with other fiber folks to support independent designers and hopefully get a few Christmas knits done. <br />
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And, I'm part of the madness!!!<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xQlh65pe4c/VGwWxPGjK2I/AAAAAAAARLA/Z2KiHR8h6HY/s1600/PicMonkey%2BCollage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xQlh65pe4c/VGwWxPGjK2I/AAAAAAAARLA/Z2KiHR8h6HY/s1600/PicMonkey%2BCollage.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
Until Friday at midnight <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/bundles/4260" style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">all of my designs are 25% off</a><b style="text-decoration: underline;">!</b> So are the designs of <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/discuss/indie-design-gift-a-long/2999184/1-25" style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">293 other designers</a>. Just use the code "giftalong2014" when you purchase the patterns through <a href="http://ravelry.com/" target="_blank"><b>Ravelry</b>.</a> Then, head over to the <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/groups/indie-design-gift-a-long" target="_blank"><b>GAL group </b></a>to participate in discussion, sharing, and a crazy amount of prizes. Seriously, do it. You won't be disappointed!<br />
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Here are a few of my favourite designs. Now I just have to decide which ones I am going to take advantage of the sale to put in my own pattern library!<br />
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/symbiotic-cowl" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Symbiotic Cowl</span></a></h2>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/symbiotic-cowl" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Hanna Maciejewska</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/polar-vortex-thrummed-mittens" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Polar Vortex Thrummed Mittens</span></a></h2>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/polar-vortex-thrummed-mittens" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Cynthia Spencer</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/goldilocks-8" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Goldilocks</span></a></h2>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/goldilocks-8" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Justyna Lorkowska</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/vaffel-votter" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Anniken Allis</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/limesicle" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Debbie Sullivan</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/libellula" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Cristina Ghirlanda</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/summer-festival-2" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Georgie Hallam</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/thyone" target="_blank">by <span style="color: #666666;">Tori Gurbisz</span></a></div>
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9134428049106533534.post-82164143868873641962014-11-05T09:00:00.000-07:002014-11-05T09:00:13.188-07:00And Suddenly it's November!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My life. It get's away from me. Daily.<br />
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One day it's June 2007 and I'm having my first baby, and the next day it's November, I have no idea what day or year because I've suddenly got 5 kids and the calendar is in the other room!!! <br />
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By the persistence of my little sister, Chloe, I did manage to pull myself together enough to gather coordinating outfits, comb through everyone's hair, and meet her for an hour for a photo shoot.<br />
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My favourite thing about these pictures? Atticus's hair. I love it! He's 2 1/2 and hasn't had a haircut, and I love it.<br />
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125801613999061236noreply@blogger.com1