What Do I Need For A Baby?

I was walking through Walmart and saw soothers (pacifiers) and realized that it hadn't really occurred to me to buy that or anything else in the baby section yet. So I bought them. Size 0-6 months and I felt happy at my conquest. (No thumb-sucker this time.)

The home birth supply list included receiving blankets. Oh yeah. So, I made a separate trip to the store and got those too.

Yesterday, Shawna said, "Well, have you gotten diapers?" Oh dear. I hadn't thought of that.

What else have I not thought of? I've done this three times, you'd think I'd have the hang of it.

So this morning I did what any responsible, well-prepared mother-to-be would do, I Googled "What do I need for a baby?" The list was 71 items long. I got overwhelmed and went to the store without the list. I bought newborn diapers, one bottle, one container of baby soap, and some baby finger-nail clippers.

I think I'm all set.

Am I?

Was That A Contraction?

Since Dallin left at 5 am this morning I have turned into a complete hypochondriac.

And it's worrying me that my hypochondria seems to be coming and going at 3 minute intervals for the last two hours.

Do You Have Any Electric Fans?

London Drugs: "Sorry, we're all sold out."

Do you have any fans?

Superstore: "Sold out."

Do you have any fans?

Walmart: "We sold out days ago."

What do I get for toughing out the heat wave longer than everyone else? No fans.

But, at Home Depot. Do you sell electric fans?

"They're right in front of the lumber till."

I think I'll kiss you. Either that or buy Home Depot stock.

Each child chose a fan. I got another one for the living room. Three sweaty, red-faced kids hugged their boxes of fans-to-be and grinned. The woman at the till said, "Look at their faces. They think it's Christmas."

He's Going Where!?!

Umm... I'm not exactly sure, but I can describe it to you. He'll fly north for 4 hours to Smithers. Then drive north for about 12 hours, then float plane in to somewhere, and hike for 8 hours.

Dallin tells me it's called Hunting Territory #762.

And until my Dad looked it up on a map and used names like Juneau and Yukon I had no idea how really far he would be. No wonder there's no cell phone reception.

Now Why is he going? Well, that's a whole other question.

Did You know That Me And Dad Are The Coolest People On The Earth?

"Why are you wearing sunglasses at breakfast? Is it sunny in here?"

"No, just to be cool...

Did you know that me and Dad are the coolest people on the earth?"

"Oh, you are? How do you know?"

"I traveled around the world."

"You did?"

"Yeah, to see what I could see."

"Oh, what did you see?"

"The people of the earth are beautiful to me."

"Oh."

"But they weren't cool like me and Dad. We're the coolest."

What Are You Doing In Your Backyard?

Dallin answers with something about improving the drainage. (There wasn't really a problem except for the soggy sandbox.)

I've been saying it will make the yard bigger, but it turns out that we'll only add about 10 feet.

I think it may really be about Boys and Big Toys.

Have You Seen Our Kitten?

I didn't want it in the first place. I don't like animals. And I didn't want a pet. If I were going to add someone to the family it would be a person who will eventually grow up, not an animal that stays a baby forever. And I'm only willing to clean up poo from my own flesh and blood. I think I even remember saying something about if we didn't like having a pet, we'd just let her fend for herself until she got eaten by a coyote. And I never did get it sorted out to use the right gender pronoun.

But then, he was so cute. And he came when I called. And he purred when I pet him. And I didn't have to clean up his poo because he lived in a cozy cave in the rocks. And so he was definitely a keeper, after all. And it looked like he was going to be a stayer too.

But last week when the babysitter was here they all went swimming and the kitten followed them down the long driveway, but not back up. And we haven't seen her since.

And my kids are sort-of sad. But I think I might be the saddest of all.

P.S. Katara has been found. A week and a half later. Naomi is thrilled. Eliza and Chas don't seem to care one way or the other. The neighbour kids who have had him/her for a week are distraught. The neighbour tells me it is a girl cat. Oh brother! And I'm just worried that we'll lose it again and now I'll have the neighbour kids sad, our own kids sad, and three different neighbours wagging their fingers at me because I never let it in the house.

Is This Worth Crying Over?

I've spent 15 hours painting. I've made my husband bail me out of a project he didn't want any part of in the first place. He's spent hours painting and spackling and unhinging. I've moved the furniture and plastic sheets back and forth and back and forth again. I've taped and painted and stretched in ways unhappy for an 8 month pregnant woman. Places in my body that house critical birthing muscles are screaming for me to stop. I've made three trips to the paint store 1/2 an hour away. I've sat in her room with swatches in hand and cried.

I think I hate the colour.

And I still have to finish the second coat.

And Naomi will be home on Saturday and it's a surprise for her birthday, so it has to be finished.

It's a Boy?

The nieces said it was a girl. We believed them. I didn't check. I don't want to check and I'm not sure I know how.

The neighbour said that it is most assuredly a boy. Dallin confirmed it.

Can a boy cat be named Katara? maybe Kataro? How about just Kat?

The children want to call for a re-vote. I'm not sure I can endure the democratic process again. (For description of Democracy in action see original post.)

What's A Pioneer Trek?

Here is a dizzying 3.5 minutes of pictures that represents:

Thousands of hours of preparation
9 buildings painted
1 temple built
185 youth attending
55 adult leaders
18 re-enactment scenes from Church History
26 rehearsal days
3 work-Saturdays that involved hundreds of men
5 days of living in a history lesson

And hopefully hundreds of changed lives. Hopefully, youth who now appreciate in a real way what men and women will sacrifice for what they know to be true. Minds that recognize that meeting hardship with courage and persecution with patience is the Lord's way. Hearts that will see their own trials as an opportunity to shine the way pioneers of the 1800s did.

I hope that hundreds were strengthened and taught. But, I know for sure that one was.

President Christensen asked if it was all worth it. I've asked myself that for months now. His answer was, "Absolutely!"

My answer is not so simple. Mine sounds like, Please let it have worked. Please let the youth understand what we tried to communicate in all of these hours of labour. The Newel K Whitney store full of treats and wooden toys, and the blacksmith who fashioned "prarie diamond" rings out of nails, and the stilt races, and the quilting, and the daily newspaper, and the square dancing, and the stool crafts, and the stained glass, and the rifle shooting. These were all only a backdrop to convey the real message: Jesus Christ has a church on the earth. He is real and He offers the way to happiness for the 80 years we get on earth and the eternities we get after those 80 years. His church was organized on the earth many times, including in the 1800s by Joseph Smith. But it is not Joseph Smith's church. It is the Lord's! It continues on with a living prophet. And it will continue on until the Saviour comes again. Saints in the 1800s knew it. That's why they endured what they did. People know it now. That's why they spend thousands of hours creating a pioneer Trek. His work deserves our very best efforts and our sacrifice. Oh, please let them have heard the message. Then it will all be worth it a hundred times over.

Baby, Can You Come on August 9th at 2 PM?

Then Nana will be here.

Then Daddy will be back from his trip.

By then, surely I'll have found the receiving blankets, washed the onesies, acquired a bassinet, put a casserole in the freezer, and rested for an hour.

That would be a good time for me. Do you mind scheduling that with Heaven?

Please RSVP.

And in the mean time, if you could scoot down out of the way of my lungs at night that would be great.

See you soon.

What Shall We Name The Cat?

This was a lesson in democracy.

Everyone's submissions were carefully written on the list. There were 71 candidates. (No 2-party system here in Canada.) Amoung the more clever were Eliza's two suggestions of "Copy" and "Mousetrap."

Then we began the voting process.
There were several rounds of primaries.
Numerous reminders that democracy was the fairest way to achieve the greatest good for all involved. "Its not fair that there are more girls than boys. All the girls will vote the same."
One adult discussion about whether an electoral system might not be better.
Several desperate lobby attempts from special interest groups, "Pleeeeeease can't we do Lord of the Fire Nation?"
And some strategic voting from the parents to end it all in under 2 hours.

The lesson: Bureaucracy and Democracy go hand in hand even in the smallest decisions. But its better than just calling all cats, "Cat."

So, Katara it is.

Who Is My Midwife Going To Be?

Six months ago I was scrambling to find a midwife who would take me. I believe strongly in midwifery care. I think it is loving, practical, and time-tested. I was desperate to find a midwife who could squeeze me in.

I was on three wait lists. I waited.

Then I was off three wait lists and had the luxury of choosing whichever practice I wanted.

I met with them all, had awkward conversations where I had to say that I liked so-and-so better than you. And I chose one.

Now between moving practices, moving cities, and a severe thyroid problem, the midwives are trying to figure out what to do with me and all of their other August moms. The temporary midwife will be here until an undetermined date, don't worry they'll find someone from a neighbouring clinic to cover, they're sure it will all work out, and "all midwives are very nice. I'm sure it will be fine."

So much for emotional security and a long-term relationship that supports a woman in this most sacred and vulnerable of times.

Did I mention that my husband will be gone and unreachable for ten days (until two days before my due date)?

What Language Did Adam and Eve Speak?

"Chinese" "Germany" "Our Language" "English" "French?" "Japanese?" "Mexican?" "The Language from the Scriptures?"

"It was the language of Adam. We call it the Adamic language. Adam and Eve spoke the Adamic language," says Dallin at Family Home Evening. "So what language do you think their sons, Cain, Abel and Seth, spoke?"

"English." "Germany?" "Adamic?"

"That's right. Adam and Eve taught their children in their own language. Adamic.
Seth had children, Adam and Eve's grandchildren. What language do you think they spoke?"

"Adamic?" "Adamic." "Adamic."

"And their children?"

"Adamic." "Adamic." "Adamic."

"Then a long time later Noah and his family came along. What language do you think they spoke?"

"Adamic." "Adamic." "Adamic."

"Right. Then after the flood wicked people decided to build a tower to try to get to heaven. The Lord changed all their languages so that they wouldn't be able to speak to each other. Except for one family. Jared's family prayed and the Lord let them keep their language so that they could still talk to each other. What language did they speak?"

"Chinese!" "English!" "Our Language!"

Is It a Deal If You Didn't Shake on It? (Part II)

Apparently, yes.

Welcome Home, Cat!

(see original post)

How Much of This Junk Can I Get Rid of Before My Kids Come Back?

7 garbage bags full. Yeah for me!

Does Obedience Irritate Me?

Well, not when it is my children's obedience. That is my quest.

"When obedience ceases to be an irritant and becomes our quest, in that moment God will endow us with power." (Ezra Taft Benson)

I assume this means our own obedience, not that of our children.

Is obedience my quest?

Is That True?

In a mediocre book I'm reading, there was this line from the Moorish Sage to Queen Catherine of England:

"Sometimes it is better to have the right questions than the right answers."

Is that true?

It's certainly true in friendships, I think. "Did that pinch a bit?" Shelley asked me this week. She chose just the right word.

It's definitely true in mothering. "What do you think you're going to do about that?" My mother asked me a hundred times as she sat on the edge of my bed late at night.

It might be helpful to put doctrinal matters into their proper perspective. "Does knowing whether it is Christ's death or His resurrection that overcomes our death affect how I will treat my children and neighbor tomorrow?"

And in small talk when I have to go to dinner with Dallin's boss and his wife. "How does Finland's national radio station compare with CBC?"

And in renovations and home repairs. "What do you think we should do in the basement?"

These questions were a lot more useful than any answers. Maybe the 15th century fictitious doctor in the book is right.

Should I Feel Guilty for being Thrilled...

...that there is No One in my House for the Next Two Days?

How about guilty over the fact that I'm going to leave the dirty dishes, laundry, bills, bathrooms, vacuuming, and Church work for some other time?

I do feel guilty, but it seems insufficient to dictate a change in course.

I'm off to read a book.

Is It a Deal If You Didn't Shake on It?

Naomi asked to talk to her Dad privately last night. They went off to the playroom.

Wait. Let me back up...
I've spent three weeks saying sentences like this:

"Dallin, leave her alone."
"Naomi, run!"
"Don't worry. I won't let Daddy yank your tooth."
"Dallin, stop teasing her!"
"It's not loose enough yet."
"Why do you want to pull it out anyway?"
"Just keep wiggling it, Naomi, it will fall out eventually."
"Have another apple, maybe that will help."

Last night, Naomi came out of the playroom grinning with blood dripping down her chin and her hand hidden behind her back.

Dallin came out of the playroom accusing me of "putting her up to this."

Apparently, the conversation went like this:

"If I let you pull out my tooth can we have one of Aunt Ellen's kittens?"

"Umm...I'd have to talk to Mom."

"But if Mom says OK?"

"Well, let me see how wiggly it is."

Wiggle. Wiggle. Out. In his hand!

Does this constitute a legally binding contract?

Well, they're off to Aunt Ellen's this week. We'll see if they arrive home with a furry friend.