Frolicking

This is my favorite picture---Sebastian playing ring-around-the-rosy with Daisy

The daisies were at their peak a few weeks ago.  They make the perfect scenery for a Sunday evening walk.  So pretty!
How did Abe get so tall and grown-up?

Adorable Seb (I wonder if he'll have front teeth next year?)

Rock-paper-scissors

A dog walks by

Poor little Daisy looks so worried in some of these pictures.  I don't know what was making her so nervous.  The tickle-y grass?  Or maybe this is her attempt at smiling?

Juni was peaceful and patient, as usual.  Seems like Daisy was just barely wearing this dress!
Giggle

I've seen several brides getting their pictures taken by the daisies too.  I wonder if our Daisy will do that when she gets married?  If so, she'll have plenty of practice! :)
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Porch Swing

Three

"What's going on out here?"

Four

2 wide-mouthed frogs+2 far-off gazes +1 dutiful pair of arms=Five
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Juniper's Birth

I've deliberated over what to write here, knowing that some people are annoyed by this type of self-indulgent drivel.  (If you are one of them, please don't read this.  I hate being annoying.)  But I have persisted for three reasons:
1. I am a writer (or, we should say I like to write) and I get unsettled about things if I leave them unwritten.  Telling people, aloud, can sometimes fill the need, but I often forget things or say them poorly.  Writing in a journal for myself alone doesn't work either (anyway I've sworn off journals); it doesn't seem REAL.  Writing it here, and having to edit myself and consider whether I'm being excessively dramatic, etc., produces results I'm less likely to hate in ten years.
2. I love reading about births, myself.  I don't usually feel like I have to get defensive about it.  We're all different, etc. etc.  I just find childbirth and motherhood fascinating subjects and part of our heritage as women. (Slightly related: for an exellent article on birth and its symbolism, see here.  The author brings up fascinating insights; subjects for a future post, perhaps.)
3. One particular detail in this story seems too good to keep to myself.  
Intrigued?  Then pray, continue.
It was a dark and stormy night.  Not really, but weren't the "Spring" months in Utah disappointingly rainy?  It was actually a beautiful sunny Saturday morning, the first for some time.  I thought to myself as I woke up, "The baby was waiting for nice weather and it will come today."  It wasn't my intuition telling me so, but the contractions I'd felt through the night.  They'd been going on long enough that I was pretty sure.  I wasn't necessarily expecting immediate results (cf. Malachi's arrival six minutes after arriving at the hospital) because of my previous labor with Daisy, which was long and leisurely, but I felt it was time to get ready.  We showered, packed kids' suitcases, stopped at the neighborhood bakery for breakfast, and drove the kids down to stay with my mom in Provo.  It passed the time.

Driving home, my contractions slowed, but didn't stop.  Sam and I spent dreamlike, child-free hours walking the neighborhood, going to a movie, going out to eat, all while the contractions came and went.  It is the most delightfully secretive feeling, to be around crowds while in labor, and no one knows but you.  I wasn't worried because my body seems to prefer laboring at night, and sure enough, as it got dark, the contractions increased in intensity and duration.  I was supposed to host a breakfast for the Young Women leaders in my ward the next morning, so I called my counselors to let them know I was (conveeeniently, I'm sure they thought) in labor, and figure out a change of venue.  Then Sam and I filled up the birthing pool in our room and went on a walk.  It was such a beautiful night, with sprinkles of rain in the air and the moon nearly full, and walking was difficult but the air felt wonderful.  We walked by the temple, resting on benches when the contractions got strong, and enjoyed the quiet darkness.

Back at home, I slept somewhat restlessly, and around 2 a.m. woke up feeling much stronger surges.  I texted my midwife, Cathy, and she drove over in her tiny red car.  So far, everything was feeling just like with Daisy, so I was pretty sure I knew what was next:  labor that progressed quickly and ended with a sweet baby at dawn.

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Sky lava

Last night was lovely.  We saw baby (teenage?) ducks, and then the sunset was such a bright orange-red.  The sky looked like one of those slow Hawaiian lava flows, sweeps of blue-grey edged by fire.
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Five

Everyone has been asking me, "How is it with five kids?"  The answer I usually give is, "We're finding a new normal." Because in spite of the fact that we're happy and Juniper is amazingly good and the boys are frequently the helpers every mother dreams of, there's just . . . I don't know, more chaos, more uncertainty, less time.  I've adjusted to it in the past and I will again, and the untidiness of it all is balanced out by the sweet, sweet baby smiles and those tiny, clutching hands---but there is definitely a learning curve with each new addition.  Let me illustrate:  

The other day in an ill-advised fit of productivity, I set out with the children to Costco.  Abe and Seb are out of school for the summer, so I thought they could help me and it would be better than going with just the little ones.

I think I forgot about how you can't see over the cart with a baby seat in it, so it's not a question of whether you're going to crash into someone but how often, and how annoyed of a look they'll give you (and how sure you are that they have sized you up and decided you are one of those poor polygamous wives stocking up for the compound).  And maybe I forgot about how everyone in the family wants the samples yet none are actually capable of independently eating the samples (walking while simultaneously holding a food item and a spork is among the highest-level motor skills, apparently).  And about how large bags of flour don't fit in carts already holding flats of marigolds.  And so forth.

I got to the check-out line holding Juniper (screaming, like a baby cat) in my arms while her carseat sat in the cart and continued to block my view of everything; Daisy in the other seat with food dribbled all down her dress and saying "Too hot!" accusingly at me as she ate a piece of ravioli; Ky alternating between running into people's legs and saying "Wait mommy!  I need to sit down!"; and Sebby and Abraham fighting over who would push and who would "guide" the cart (answer: neither, instead they would keep crashing into the edges of the aisles as they wrestled it back and forth between them, drawing glares from [no doubt population-conscious] bystanders).  

As I started trying to unload the cart with one hand, a lady came up to me and said, "Here, come over here in this other line; you'll be next and I'll unload your cart."  I thought she was an employee at first (probably there to tell me about some rule my children were violating) so I followed obediently, but then I saw she was just another customer, there with her two darling red-haired teenage daughters.  They put me in front of them in line and unloaded all my groceries onto the conveyor belt while I stood there holding Juniper and blinking back tears (of embarrassment and gratitude).  And then after I paid, the mom said, "I'm sending my daughter out with you to unload and help you with your cart!"  So one of the girls shyly pushed my cart out and filled my trunk up with crates and boxes while I buckled in children.  I couldn't believe it; I was SO grateful.  I kept  saying Thank You and the girl kept smiling and unloading and then finally running back inside the store with a little wave.  All the way home I kept thinking how nice they had been, how I KNOW when you have a bunch of kids that some people will think you're an idiot or irresponsible or whatever and I was prepared for that but it makes me self-conscious anyway, and to have someone smile and help instead of glaring at me was just . . . so nice.  And how even though I sort of felt embarrassed that I'd looked so needy and probably desperate, because I thought I was holding it together pretty well actually, and I WAS capable of managing by myself and I would have managed (eventually), it still touched me that someone noticed and CARED, and wanted to make it easier for me.  And it still brings a few tears to my eyes, actually, thinking about it.

And that's how it's going with five.
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My true love's a blue-eyed Daisy

If it's true that 'grass doesn't grow on a busy street' then I fear for the state of her brain, because her hair is growing like crazy right now!  

She thinks her skirt is to be worn like this.  It makes her look very odd.

She has such pretty eyes.

She loves to run-run-run everywhere!  Also, to pull her arms out of her seatbelt straps.  She obediently puts them back in when we tell her to, and then promptly pulls them out again.  Hmm.

She loves drawing.  On everything.  The crayons have been relocated to the highest shelf (since she figured out how to get them out of the art stools).

She makes this face when she thinks she is being funny

 How did my baby become a little girl (and a big sister) so suddenly?

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Lucky

Something very good happened the other day.  You recall how much Malachi wants to pet a birdie (or a bunny)?  And is sad because he can't?  Well, one evening Sam came running in the house calling Malachi.  As he drove home, Sam had seen a robin sitting on the side of the street not moving, and when he got close to it, it just sat there and looked at him.  Then it fluttered a little way away and sat still again.  It didn't look hurt, so Sam came and got Malachi and brought him outside to see.

They walked very slowly and carefully up to the birdie and it stayed still, watching them, and finally they got very close and Malachi carefully reached out and petted his back.  ("How did it feel?" I asked.  "Like fur," said Malachi.)  And then the birdie fluttered off.  It was so amazing; I never thought such a thing would happen.  Maybe Grandpa Nelson had a hand in it? :)

I have NEVER seen a happier boy than Ky when he came racing inside to tell me about it.  (Here he is explaining. "I love that birdie, Mommy!  I didn't touch his peek [that's beak], because I didn't want him to bite me, so I don't know what his peek feels like.  Maybe it's soft.  His feathers were so soft!  And he wasn't even scared of me!  He let me pet him because he knows I'm so, so nice and I love birdies and I'm NEVER going to hurt him!  He's a nice birdie and he LIKED me!")
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Evening garden

I should probably be Red Butte Garden's official blogger, don't you think?  This week the light was so pretty and warm, it finally felt like a summer evening.  We saw a bunny again!  And a rattlesnake.  (I hope they stayed far away from each other.) There are a lot of pictures.  Daisy just looked so cute in her little skirt, and then Juni started being extra cute, and then it all just escalated out of control.
She likes to run right up to the camera and peer into it

So happy!

My shirt matched these irises

Sunlight through wisteria---so pretty

The rain has made everything so green!  Gorgeous with the sun coming through.

They have the same strange mouth-twist here

Hair!

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