New Texas House

Here we are! We have been in this house about one week exactly. My sister Karin had a dream the other day that I called her and told her I had all my house unpacked except about 2 boxes. Beautiful dream, but that was the state of my Ohio house a few months before we found out we were moving. 2.5 years into the house. So . . . not quite there yet here.

Karen Bell has been internettedly insistent that I post some photos of our new home.

Here.

 The office/guest room

 The loft/playroom

 The boys' room (not pictured: the girls' room)

 Kids' bathroom. Ainsley has a cute new trick - unrolling all toilet paper rolls

 Master closet

 Master closet from the inside. It's even more awesome in person.

 A slice of the master suite

 From the front door: the home teacher room to the formal dining room to the kitchen way back there

 Great room

 Amazing fridge

 Pantry. And it even keeps going off to the right. Good thing, too. No basements in Houston.

 Harry Potter closet. Also keeps going around the bend. The kids can't get enough of this closet.

 The site of my future super fancy washer and dryer. They should arrive on Monday or Tuesday. 

 One third of the ensuing laundry. A week and a half without doing laundry. I have not gone this long not doing laundry since college. We are a family of 6. This is INSANITY.

 Half-bath downstairs. Practicing those good hygiene habits. Spelled that right the first try.

My favorite box. Elliot helped with the packing and labeling of it. ("2015 Kitchen")

So there you have it: simultaneously my new house and the reason I hadn't posted pictures of my new house. Give me 3 days with no kids and I will show you a clean, organized haven. Give me a month and the whole thing won't be cream colored anymore. The cream is wearing on me a bit.

Since we got such a great deal on the house, we are talking hardwoods and granite, but I need to catch my breath first.

Our life here:
I got the boys enrolled in school and they started Tuesday. AJ started work on Wednesday. The girls and I walk the boys to school and back each day and it's just over a mile each way, so I'm going 4.5 miles a day. Although on errand days, I drop them off on our way out so only half that. The weather is incredible. 70s with a light breeze. Always.

The service at the post office is abominable. But the better sonic is near the post office, so there are silver linings everywhere.

Just like after the stress of a big semester, I got sick just after finals week, so I had a few days of feeling pretty cruddy, but I'm on the mend. This afternoon my cousin Nichole is coming from an hour away (also Houston) to help and hang out. Josh (who lived 25 minutes away from me growing up and now lives 25 minutes away with his wife and 4 kids) had us over for dinner last Sunday. So fun.

Things are good. I have boxes calling my name, but Baby Ainsley keeps responding to them. On the verge of being done with the kitchen.

Politics

Don't be alarmed, I am not going to tell you my political leanings and why you, too, should be . . . you know, leaning. {anyone??} I want to talk about my kids, of course, because that's what stay at home moms drown in. Children and their antics.
As many of you know, this past Tuesday was election day. So the evening before, we had a family home evening about voting and whatnot. AJ had sent me this link earlier:

http://www.isidewith.com/political-quiz?utm_source=outbrain&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=q_us_ob5#more

We decided to use it to teach our kids about current issues.

Well.

Surprisingly, AJ and I found that our answers yielded different candidates. His was a straight ticket, and I got a mixed bag. But when we tried to do it as a family . . . hoo-boy. Our little boys (ages 6 and 7) are VERY different politically. Nearly every issue got different responses. I did try to present the issues fairly and explain both sides, then after a little discussion if necessary, AJ and I would share our views. Still. So I tried to balance the answers between the boys (the girls (ages 3 and 10 months) had nothing substantial to add). As a family, it turns out, we should vote almost exclusively for the Green Party. Wha??

And that, folks, is why each person should fill out their own ballot. I barely even like nature, for one.

Now for some pictures, because pictures are fun.

 Jill & me, having some sister time

 Baby Ainsley, with her favorite toy at the library

Family at the zoo. Yes, that's a dinosaur.

One more thing. I like to listen to NPR in the car and the other day I overheard my little sons discussing the news story. Then, "Ebola? Why did the man from the library die, Mama?"

Took me a minute. Liberia. 

Kids. 

Child Discipline

I have this son. Let's call him Yelliot. He is so funny, and smart, and adorable. He is challenging to raise. At age 5 1/2, he has discovered urine as a weapon of rebellion. Oh, you read that right. I kind of want to go into the dreadful details, but more I want to spare us all the horror. The even bigger issue accompanying this, however, is disobedience. After discovering he was peeing out of the windows of our home (just ONE of the uses of urine he has developed), AJ had a Big Chat with him about a) pee only goes in the potty, and b) children are only authorized to open a window in case of fire or direct parental request. I mean AJ really laid down the law. Yelliot promised to follow the rules, then completely ignored them. It continues to be a problem. AJ wanted to throw him out the window.

We have gone through any discipline techniques we can think of: Time outs, spanking, screaming, loss of privileges, explaining that he can't have that treat because the money that was earmarked for his treat is now being used to purchase window locks. Nothing has worked. This little fella cannot be trusted.

I decided I can't let him out of my sight. At all. But I have 3 other children who also need at least minimal supervision. I crocheted a chain about 4 feet long and tied one end to each of our wrists. I feed the baby, he sits by me. I switch the laundry, he carries half of the dryer load and then cleans the lint trap. I take a nap, and while his brother and sister get to watch a show, he gets to play on my phone. (I'm not a monster!) When we went to the park, I detached us, but the minute he stepped out of bounds, we were tied up again. It is incredibly inconvenient. My hope is that he finds it so distasteful he will shape right up, but I may be tied to my little boy until kindergarten starts. Oh, help.

I will update you as effects do or don't roll in. Judging by my track record, I would guess I lose tenacity by tomorrow afternoon and he will continue to terrorize us. I tell you what, if the looney bin weren't so expensive, I might have myself committed. Okay, I'm not quite to that point. But I sure could go for a vacation from my problems.

Funeral Weekend!

My grandma passed away last week. She was a lovely woman.  She lived to be over 90 and was completely ready to go. I got to fly to Utah to be with the family and celebrate her life with them. It was SO much fun.

Here I am with my sister Karin.She had only one pair of gloves, so we decided to clean Michael Jackson style.

Here's my brother Matt. The shorts and dress shoes/socks/shirt are nice, but I wish I had gotten a picture of him wearing my dad's lederhosen. That dad wore as a 13 year old in Germany. His summer lederhosen (read: supershort). And then we all sang Edelweiss. It was magical.

Here is my dad, Papa, holding my little Ainsley on funeral morning.

Here is Ainsley in her funeral finery. For grandma, all the girls wore pearls. I think grandma would have really loved Ainsley's getup. She did have a red and white head bow on during the service, which was just lovely, btw. (the service. Okay, and the bow)

Here we have my dad's two sisters, reenacting their bridal portraits which have been hanging there for over 20 years. 

Same thing, Matt and Katie.

I wish I could tell you the whole story of this portrait that a big fan of my grandparents had commissioned of them in Africa. In real life, grandpa wasn't constipated and grandma wasn't African. My nephew Conrad pictured here won the portrait in the family auction. Again, SO FUN.

Grandpa broke his leg a few weeks ago, so he has been staying in the VA facility they just built about, not kidding, 2 miles from the Stewart farm. So convenient. On Sunday my sibs and parents and I went to the church service they had there. It was awesome. And it was only half an hour long. Then we chatted and spent some time with grandpa. His memory is gone, but what a pleasant guy.

Here is Ainsley with Nannie, who is my mom's mom.

Here is Ainsley with Papa Cy, who is my mom's dad.

I want to go into more detail on the Auction, and since this is my blog I will. No one is making you read it. So here is the deal: my Grandparents Stewart have lived on the Stewart farm for about 50 years. It has been in the family since it was built in about 1850 or so. It is a very old, big, treasure-filled farm house. Some non-treasure, too, but plenty of treasure.

After the funeral and cemetery and luncheon, we all went back to the farm. Everyone got a piece of paper and pencil, and we wandered through the house and dug through some of the hundred or so cabinets and cupboards and wrote down anything we might want. Then we all got together in the living room and compared lists. Like Scattegories, if no one wrote down what you did, it is yours. Oh, prior to this, if you gave anything to G&G, it is automatically yours if you want it back. Any items that are on multiple lists went to auction.

Only the siblings got to participate in the auction. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren gave their lists and negotiated with their parent/grandparent about items that were most important. The amazing part is how few items went to auction. There were more than enough treasures for everyone. There were some hotly contested items, except that it wasn't hot. It was pleasant and fun. Not a hard feeling in the room, except from me because my dad wouldn't go to bat for ANY of my items. Just let them go. Sheesh. Okay, I'm fine. I got the Lords Prayer Blanket which still smells like grandma's house and I got an African drum from their mission to Ghana, and a trunk full of other delightful things. Anyway, each sibling got 500 Stewartbucks. Depending on how much others bid, you could see how important it was to them, so you had the opportunity to be gracious, but also to let it known how much you wanted something without having to explicitly prioritize. It was fabulous. My brother-in-law who is a real estate attorney I guess about wet his pants with how illegal our proceedings were, but whatever. Everyone was happy in the end. 

And now I have to make some quesadillas for my screamers. Ah, real life. 

Hospital

As previously mentioned, I hate being pregnant. I suffer from a condition called ante-partum depression, which is not nearly as common as post-partum depression, and there is a clear end in sight (birth), but it is still the pits. But the day that child is ripped from my loins is the greatest day ever. 

My first 3 were born in the same hospital in North Carolina, with the same doc delivering. It was wonderful. The food was spectacular. The service was like unto chick-fil-a's. I was a little worried with this last baby since we are in Ohio. Different experience, might be cruddy. I am here today to tell you, it is great to have a baby in Ohio, too. 

This is me a few minutes after major abdominal surgery. Sweet freedom!

At hospital. Sweet, peaceful Ainsley.

So I here will provide some of the reasons I LOVE being in the hospital after having a baby.

• The bed reclines with the push of a button.
• For the first 12 hours, I have a catheter in and am encouraged to sleep as much as possible. It is the first time in months I can rest without having to get up and pee every few hours.
• For my entire stay there I am encouraged to sleep as much as possible.
• No one is crabby on a maternity unit.
• They keep the narcotics coming.
• While it is a little uncomfortable to have people asking about passing gas and bowel movements, they cheer when I fart and throw a party when I poop. AJ could take a page out of their book. ;)
• The food. In NC it was amazing. Here it was adequate, but the service was awesome. Renee was the nutrition lady who most often came to me. She took my order and got to anticipating my preferences. "Only one chocolate milk? You want me to bring an extra just in case? Now what about dessert?" On my last day, I said, oh, and probably a chocolate chip cookie. Renee: "You deserve more than one. This is your last meal with us!" She brought 3.
• I just feel popular there. I overheard during shift-change my nurse telling my next nurse "she's a really easy patient." Made my day.

I've been home one day. I have to find my own food and sweep my own floor. My bed is more comfortable, but doesn't do anything special. I'll get over it. I'm sure home has its perks, too. ;)

Names! Help!

I love naming babies. It's one of my most favorite hobbies. But it is just so permanent when it is your own.

Now, this poll is not binding. We will still name her what we will, but I'm curious as to your opinions.

 Some of these names are Christmas flavored: Noelia, Stella, Jeanette Isabella. Some have fun background stories: Roxy (although it sounds modern and kind of racy) is after Eliza R. Snow, a stalwart pioneer woman, and the name Roxy was most popular in 1880, which is the same decade of popularity as Hyrum! Others we just like. Or I just like and AJ hasn't poo-pooed yet.

You may vote for as many as you would like, and feel free to comment as to your reasons, or if there are issues I might not be aware of ("there was a serial killer named Evelyn Righter!" or "the initials spell HATER" or whatever)

What should we name this caboose?
	Adelaide (nn Haddie)
	Margaret (nn Greta)
	Sylvia
	Jeanette Isabella
	Nellie
	Norah
	Roxy
	Stella
	Noelia
	Meghan
	Evelyn
pollcode.com free polls

A Note on Pregnancy

Sometimes I feel like a beached whale. Sometimes I feel like a peaceful manatee that just got struck broadside by a speedboat. In a boiling ocean. With shrieking eels trying persistently to climb on its lap.

Generally I feel guilty about whining about pregnancy. I have some good friends who have struggled for years with infertility, and others who miscarry, and probably there are others of my acquaintance who are in these boats and I don't even know about it. I do feel like an ungrateful wretch, but lately this has just gotten too sucky NOT to whine.

I acknowledge that I conceive and carry to full term wonderful healthy babies. Also I puke a lot. Mostly in the first trimester, always some in the second trimester, and if it is a girl, all 3. Good thing I like baby girls pretty well. I get remarkably tired and achy. These are all pretty typical symptoms, and not hardly worth a rant. But let me tell you about my third trimesters.

I go crazy. I don't just mean a bit cranky and weepy and forgetful. It gets ridiculous. When #2 was en utero, my OB requested I go get a psych eval at the ER, so we could facilitate my disability leave from work. Do you know that if you get a psych eval at the ER regardless of your symptoms that bring you there, they have protocols that include a rubber room and a paper suit and going through your personal belongings to ensure you don't have anything that might hurt yourself or others? It was then I realized that I carry a lot of pens in my purse. Like 15. Each one the nurse pulled out after about 4, she would look over dubiously at AJ, like, "did you KNOW you were married to this??" I stopped carrying pens at all for about 2 years. I'm better now. 4-5 max.

This pregnancy is also crazy-making. Yesterday I was thinking of calling up my bff to talk about Thanksgiving plans, but then I thought I would probably die in a car accident if I did, and that would be fine, but what about the woman that AJ married next? So I'm walking through the grocery store, sobbing, because what if she's fun and he prefers her? Or what if she's not, and my kids suffer from a lame step-mother? So thinking this stuff isn't really the crazy part, it's the crying in the store part. Here, I'll give a better example: the other day in the shower I was thinking of murdering my husband. I decided against it, don't worry, but only partially because of the moral implications. Partially because you don't get life insurance from someone you murder. Shortly after that, I took a few days off of motherhood and AJ took a few days off work to cover for me. During that time, he started off with a bang by cleaning the kitchen thoroughly. My response? Anger. Because what is he trying to prove here? That jerk, only cleaning the kitchen when it's his job, even if assuming the job is a big fat favor to me.

I don't really know where I'm going with all of this. Everything is a little bit hazy. I pity my children for the year of their childhood with their mother that they lose every time I have another. But they seem to be enjoying the extra screen time. I think after this thing gets out of me they may all get very disappointed at how little tv they get to watch.

Oh, here we go! I hereby pledge to not do this again. I have officially reached Advanced Maternal Age, 4 is a pretty big number for some of us, and I am done. I know each pregnancy has been my last, but I'm serious this time. The end.