Category: Family

And He Made It to Age 2…

There are only so many times you want to find yourself staring at a positive pregnancy test in shock.  Frankly, that number would probably be a big fat “zero” for me.  Yet, that’s exactly what I was doing in the late winter of 2009.  A pregnancy test in one hand and a 3 month old in the other…

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” ~Proverbs 16:9

 

At exactly 3:02 PM on December 12, 2009, we welcomed our precious Chase into this world.

 

Overwhelming at times? Yes.  Humbling always? Yes.  Would I have it any other way? No.

Happy Birthday, Chasey-Bear!  We love you!

**Note: Whether it’s an afternoon of being born or playing around the house, his mouth is almost always open and there’s usually [loud] noise coming out of it.**

Thirty Years … Or More …

Today I turn 31 … eep!  

Further down this page is my first blog post of this nature taken from my 30th birthday [ie: when I was young and carefree].

With each passing year of my life and child added to my life*, my own mother’s life and sacrifice appear stronger and more amazing.  

I’m so thankful for my dear Mom – always and especially today.

My mom with all four daughters, July 2010, North Carolina

*Yes, “another year” and “another child” have practically been synonyms here. Very funny.

 

Today I turn 30… [moment of silence over my impending ancient-ness]

In all seriousness now, my children’s birthdays are so much sweeter and more poignant to me for my own memories of watching them enter the world and holding their precious little bodies for the very first time.

Thirty years ago today, a young woman who had waited nine months (and many years before those months) held her infant for the first time – being sure despite skeptical nurses that the baby would have red hair.

She then proceeded to pour the best of everything she had into that little one … for the next thirty years.

Thanks, Mom.

A Place for Karsten

Lake Geneva, December, 2009

I looked up from my book; “Bob, this says that it’s dedicated to his son, Karsten.  Isn’t that a cool name?  Hey, if we ever have another child and it’s a boy, could we talk about that name?” 

Bob looked at me, and then 2 week old Chase sleeping next to me; an incredulous look on his face …“Sure … uh-huh … uh, we haven’t slept in like, a year and a half … and you’re talking about another?!”

“I know, I know … I’m just saying … it’s a cool name.”

Inspiration and creativity carried my train of thought a step further …

“Hey, Bob …”

[a deep sigh from across the room]

“What?”

“You know what?  We should use your grandfathers’ names too … Karsten Robert Charles … doesn’t that sound amazing?”

“Sure, Love … whatever you say.”

 

I am not a good pregnant person.  I like to be in control and being pregnant means being totally out of control for me.  After being pregnant twice in two years, it had only gotten worse.  After Chase, I fearfully and desperately wanted to be done.   But still, I couldn’t shake our Lake Geneva “conversation” from my mind.  I loved the name “Karsten”, and though I tried, I couldn’t get the idea of another little boy in our family by that name out of my head.  I just couldn’t figure out where to put those feelings or how to deal with them.  We had always talked about four children, but knew that any addition after Chase would be several years away.  … yet, I couldn’t shake it … this place in my heart for a Karsten. 

Lord, what are you preparing me for?

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Out on some errands with Bob and the kids, we decided after a week of wondering that we couldn’t wait any longer and so I ran into the nearest drugstore, and then the Starbuck’s next to it.  Who takes a pregnancy test in a Starbuck’s?  Someday; I thought, I’ll think back on this moment and laugh. 

A few minutes later, I was back with Bob.  Not wanting to share with the children yet, he looked at me, and I nodded back:  Positive.

Winter 2011

I lay in bed too sick and weak to move.  My fever was high; too high for someone with a nine week old fetus.  I no longer wondered why they make a vaccine for influenza.  Then the bleeding started.  Was I really just coming to accept another pregnancy only to have it end?

Lord, help me walk whatever road you have for me …

In the Office, Two Weeks Later …

The doctor looked up from the ultrasound machine, a smile on his face; “There’s a nice, strong heartbeat.”  My baby was alive.

October, 2011

Being weak is humbling.  I don’t like being humble almost as much (if not more) than I don’t like being pregnant.  Yes, I’d made it through the year to a full-term pregnancy, but I was weak.  Always tired, anemic and unable to lift anything of significance due to a bad back, I chafed … I want to be strong, Lord, and instead, I have to depend on others to do my work for me or deal with it not being done at all!   The only way out is through.

Lord, teach me and  prepare me …

Sunday, October 9th, 2011

It’s been almost 48 hrs already.  So tired, I’d gone to the hospital to be checked on Saturday afternoon when my contractions were 5-7 minutes apart, and then everything stalled so I was sent home.  …and then again, after waiting several hours through Saturday night and into Sunday morning, labor stalled and again, I was sent home.  I don’t think I’d slept since sometime on Friday, and more than my bodily exhaustion, I was emotionally exhausted.  I was weary from the condescension of the nurses … the “Is this your first baby?” question … the continual and even painful contractions … the thought of something being wrong for all of this going so long and not progressing … and the thought that actual labor (the hard part!) was still ahead. 

That afternoon, I called a friend and as she prayed for me over the phone, I sobbed.  Lord, prepare me for whatever you have for me … I’m so tired, Lord.

I sat on my bed with my copy of “Calm My Anxious Heart”.  If ever I needed reminders of comfort and peace, it was now.  Reading hungrily, the Lord helped me to focus and re-impressed lessons and verses on my heart …in particular, this passage:

I know of no greater simplifier for all of life.  Whatever happens is assigned.  Does the intellect balk at that?  Can we say that there are things that happen to us that do not belong in our lovingly assigned “portion” (“This belongs to it, that does not”)?  Are some things, then, out of the control of the Almighty?  Every assignment is measured and controlled for my eternal good.  As I accept the given portion other options are canceled.  Decisions become much easier, directions clearer, and hence my heart becomes inexpressibly quieter.  A quiet heart is content with what God gives.”

[Elizabeth Elliot on Psalm 16:5]

 

9:00 PM:  “Bob, I think I want to go again.  I don’t know what I’ll do if they discharge me again, but I need to go.  Hey, if they discharge me, can you just deliver the baby at home?  I can’t handle it anymore.”  We laughed at the thought of him delivering the baby.  It felt good. 

Later: The nurse removed her gloves, “Oh Honey, you’re at a 5 or 6 …let’s get you into a room.  You’re going to have this baby tonight.”  Such relief.

Sometime after 10:00 PM:  …waiting on the anesthesiologist, we prayed.  Lord, prepare our hearts for whatever lies ahead.

11:30 PM:  It’s funny how hours feel like minutes at times.  The doctor was there and speaking to me: “Let’s get set up here and in just a few minutes, you won’t be pregnant anymore.”

Peace.  I feel such peace.  You fully supply all my needs.  You restore my weary soul again and again and lead me in your righteousness and peace.  You are my shepherd.  I shall not want.  I will dwell in your house all the days of my life.

12:04 AM, Monday, October 10th:  My arms reached for the warm and moist towel holding the bluish infant.  “Here he is!  He’s beautiful!”  Voices were talking around me.  The nurses arms reached out and began massaging and drying arms and legs as his mouth opened; letting out a first, strong wail.  The breath of life began to spread and he was turning pink as I heard myself repeating “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.  Mama’s here.” 

Our Portion.  Our Karsten. 

Lord, prepare us for whatever lies ahead …

 

Another Condo Life Challenge

One of the greatest challenges facing us this year is adding a fourth child without adding any additional housing or storage space.  They should really make reality shows about this kind of stuff.  Actually, they probably do and I’m just blissfully unaware of it. 

By the way, in case you hadn’t guessed it yet, this is another post on our condo life.  Remember the “1100 square feet and counting…” thing?   

After wracking my brains for how to increase storage space without decreasing square footage … with a plan that did not use any of the following: 1) dynamite, 2) excavation, or 3) possibly more dynamite … I came up with something that I pitched to the “Head of the House” (he’s the head, I’m the neck … or at the moment, the double chin) as a viable solution.  In other, related news … thank God for IKEA. 

Step One (no, this is not a song by The Fray): we did a complete and  introspective soul-search (“Are we really ever going to read that book to the kids again?  Do they ever play with that toy?”) and with the heightened sense of self-awareness did a thorough clean-out for our donation center of choice.  I, for one, feel much better about myself now. 

This picture (taken during the clean out phase) shows the damaged toy/book shelf and the super-damaged college dorm-style blocks I’d been using for Chase’s clothes.  Parenting note: never use dorm-style blocks.  Your kids will try and pull them apart despite the severe warnings to the contrary that you repeatedly give, and then, if the blocks restack and stand at all, it will be at an annoyingly drunken angle due to bent plastic pieces.  Hypothetically speaking, that is.

Step Two:  Next we picked the storage unit.  (again, see: Thank God for IKEA)  While the bedrooms here are larger than many, we absolutely can’t fit four (or even three!) dressers in them.  And, even if we could fit that number of dressers, we currently use the bedroom as book and toy storage space, so we would lose that entirely.  Enter the awesome shelving unit …

 [Seen here still in the boxes.  Please feel free to note all the lovely piles on the top bunk and well, pretty much everywhere else in the picture. ]  The two units will take the place of the damaged book/toy shelf, the disorderly (and leaning) dorm blocks, and a gorgeous vintage roll-top dresser that I am loathe to part with.  Luckily, it isn’t going very far … just across town to my parents house.  And luckily, due to a slight project error (It takes how long to do how much?) and my husband’s work schedule, I haven’t had to part with it at all yet as it’s still in my living room.

Classy, huh?  There’s a small part of me that feels like there should be a red-neck “dresser in the living room” joke somewhere.  Don’t know why, but I do feel that there should.

Step Three: We repaired the damaged shelf from the bedroom and put it in place of this lovely pairing in the living room.  Finally!  A place to put paperwork, school books, and craft supplies … other than the dining room table.  Again, hypothetically speaking, of course … my dining room table is always … eh, forget it … I can’t even type the sentence with a straight face. 

Before:  The Louis chair grouping. .. This is my husband’s throne chair.  True story.  Sorry about the dark and blurry quality.  I do that on purpose so you can’t see how dusty my house is.  If it weren’t blurry, you’d see a cardboard box under the chair that (up until this project) housed all the craft supplies.  Yes, we’re so childproof and no, I did not spend half of any at home day trying to keep Chase out of the finger paint.  Not.  (is it too soon to bring “not” back?)

After:  Ah, blissful organization!  As my father would always say: “A place for everything, and everything in it’s place”. 

Step Four:  The assembly of bedroom storage units.  (see also: My Husband is Awesome)  The goal is clothes on the top and toys/books on the bottom.  We’re still breaking in the sliding boxes in only a few places …not sure if we like them completely, but you still get the idea …

If you’re visualizing the “before”, this is the exact wall featured in the shelving disaster with piles and dorm blocks picture I posted higher up.  (and by the way, all those green fabric boxes on top of the shelf are where I keep all my cloth diapering items)

And this, is where my beautiful dresser (which, just as a reminder, is still in my living room) used to be. 

Epilogue: We increased actual space in the living room with the installation of the previously damaged/now repaired shelf and we close to doubled the space in the bedroom for clothes, toys and books.   Oh, and for the curious/non-Ewoldt house-visiting among you, the sleeping situation will read one bunk bed, one standard size crib, and one super tricked-out pac ‘n’ play (tricked-out = it has a mattress and is set up like a mini crib).

So this, my friends, is how we plan to put four children in one room and survive.  You know … until the housing market gets more encouraging or Chase goes to college … whichever comes first.  Haha …

Any tips, tricks or suggestions?  Please feel free to pass them along!  I’m always in search of how to do this condo life even better and more efficiently.

The July That Wasn’t

July 2011 was going to be about recovering and preparing for the Fall.  We had a wonderful time with family and summer activities throughout June and July was to be the recuperation month.  But it didn’t happen… which is completely fine because we ended up having much more fun the way it went down.

This is my sister Abby and her husband Trevor. 

They live in Maine.  Someday, I will write about her unusual wedding -which may or may not have been in a remote location in North Carolina and may or may not have involved me holding a shot gun in a bridesmaid’s dress, or not jumping up and down like a complete dork- but for today, I will tell you that they live in Maine and they are preparing to go to Kenya as missionaries, which is where Trevor grew up.  Trevor is my African brother-in-law … of this, I am quite proud. 

I’m also very proud of Abby who is carrying her first child: due about 6 weeks after my 4th.  I’m a little less proud of how totally un-pregnant she looked in July.  This is most likely due to her sick enjoyment of working out and running marathons.  (I sometimes ponder how genetically connected we truly are)

Along with her delusions of fitness and health, she is clearly struggling with hormones during pregnancy because she likes the name “Elvis” for her unborn son.  I prefer to call my in-utero nephew “Thing 1”.  Po-tay-to; po-tah-to … you know?

During the two and a half weeks they were here, Trevor built bookcases for my parents’ living room.  This was a source of CONSTANT joy to my boys as there was a steady stream of tool-usage all over the house.  (They remain both petrified and enthralled by the screech of a circular saw)  Not that they needed any further reason to be in love with their Uncle Trevor … Uncle T is their motivational force on almost everything.  Standing over six feet tall, he is a monument of … well, incredible tallness to both my little midgets.  A standard conversation in our house goes like this:

“Bud, you have to eat your beans.”

“I don’t want to!”

“But they’re healthy and they’ll make you grow big and strong!”

“Big and strong like Uncle Trevor?”

As a parent, it is very hard not to use this weakness in them (Aidan especially) as an excuse to get them to do, well, anything.  “But, I’m sure Uncle Trevor would eat this”, or “Uncle Trevor would wear shorts like that”, or “Uncle Trevor would never talk to his Mommy that way”.  Don’t worry, I said it was hard; but impossible.  To date, I have never used this paragon of brother-in-law-hood to talk my kids into doing anything other than eating their vegetables … and getting their hair cut … and maybe once I got Aid to wear his camo pants because it was the only pair I had for him at the moment.  But that’s it, I promise!

Sidenote:  Aidan also asks me if he’ll someday be as big and strong as his Aunt Meg (my diminutive, loud-mouthed, 5 foot tall sister) … not sure at ALL where that one comes from.  And Meg, if you’re reading this, I apologize for slightly mis-representing you … I know you’re really a little over 5 feet tall.  (insert snide older sibling laugh here)

Here are a few pictures …

My sister is a great photographer.  The kids especially love that she lets them take pictures with her camera.  …something their own kill-joy of a mother rarely lets them do.

We spent a lot of time outside, both running through the sprinkler and swimming.  While searching through the garage for appropriate outdoor toys, Aidan found this car brush … which -not knowing what a car brush is- he referred to as his “toothbrush”.  …wow, so close … and yet so far.

How many small children can YOU fit in one paddle pool?  In other news: Darcy is the best and most patient older sister ever.

This was captured just seconds before Aidan put the bucket over his head, tripped over the side of the pool, and unceremoniously fell in.  If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred time, but in light of this photo, I think it bears repeating … he might not be college scholarship material.  I’m just sayin’…

Here is Uncle T working on the bookshelves in the driveway.  Sidenote: like many craftsmen (is it part of their union contract?), he listened to the radio for background noise much of the time, and I can honestly say I’ve never heard anyone who could cover so many Bon Jovi songs … in a falsetto voice.  Hey, T, if that whole wood-working thing doesn’t work out, you might have a back-up plan…

And finally, here is my father … pretending to work on the bookshelves with Trevor.  If you don’t automatically get Village People’s “Macho Man” in your head when you view this; you should.

Just a few brief glimpses into our fun July.  At some point, I will print a retraction and/or full apology for the last image shared. 

Family is the best. 

Wow, and I still have the chorus to “Macho Man” in my head … wonder how long that’s gonna last …

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