Still alive...

Well, I'll give it another try. Life is different in many ways than when I last wrote and in many more ways the same old. As I'm writing more for my own recollection of events than anyone else, I wanted to write a bit about Timothy's birth.

Despite saying I didn't want to be induced, I got through all the hours I was putting in up until my due date. I went in to the doctor on Monday the 15th and finally asked him, "Can I be done?" He said he'd induce me the next day, the 16th - that may have been my due date I think, I hardly remember anymore. I was expecting another long day like with Bethany. Which, not to get off track, but I was recently thinking that I am not so much of a pessimist as a reluctant optimist. I prefer to expect the worse so that I can be pleasantly surprised as opposed to being let down. But anyway, we went in at seven am. Started the Pitocin a bit after 8am and then he broke my water around 10 I think. I decided no trying to make sure not to deliver until after Winnebago clinic was done so I got out of bed and sat on the birthing ball and stood and moved around. I was starting to feel more pressure but didn't want to get my hopes up either. I think around 11:30 I finally said to check me just to see where I was at. I think I was about a 6 then. I refused to stay in bed and kept moving all over, going into the bathroom and sitting, and standing in the doorway. I recall telling Warren I could handle it if it didn't get any worse. The pain of labor has never been the issue, it's been that feeling when you have to push that I HATE when you can't push yet. So Dr. Cahill showed up finally and said I was close and he'd check again in 15 minutes. That time he said he'd go change. By that time I was back in bed where I could not control myself as well and as soon as he left I had a contraction that would not go away. I could feel Timothy moving down and I was like he is coming no matter what. He walked back in the room after they paged him not fully garbed up and Timothy was already on the way out. Warren told me the doctor got blood on his shoes. That's what he gets for leaving the room. Anyway, I just remember feeling absolutely exhausted after his birth. My mom had come in which I didn't realize after the birth and had come over and touched my arm and I thought she was the nurse until I opened my eyes. I was just wiped out. Timothy was healthy and wonderful, 9 pounds, 3 ounces. Warren was a great support like always.

Okay, so now fast forward 3 months. Homeschooling is sooooooo hard. I keep going back and forth over what I should do. I feel so bad sometimes I want to send the kids back to school because of what they are missing but yet I know they can experience so much more at home. It's different, not less, that's all - I keep telling myself. I also can't stand the attitudes and ways I am treated. I know in some ways I am so afraid of someone saying I am not doing a good enough job so I am too uptight about documenting everything we do so I can prove what we are doing. But yet, the whole joy in homeschooling should be flexibility and I am more concerned with test scores that providing experiences. I haven't quite figured out how to do things differently but if the kids would just change their attitudes and we could talk and find better ways, it could be so much better. I think we'll move back to the kitchen table tomorrow. Upstairs doesn't work so well with the little ones downstairs half the time.

Timothy is still a doll. He is trying to roll over more. At first I was like, the other kids rolled over at 2 months but then it's like, why would I want to push him? I want him to stay a baby - he doesn't have to hurry to do everything. He used to sleep very well but lately has been waking every hour or two all night. Oh well, we just keep switching sides and feeding. El nino bebe. I love saying that, it just sounds cool! The only thing I need to do is get him a dresser so I can use his crib for a bed instead of dresser and then he can sleep in it and my husband can come back to bed with me. We have slept in the same bed very few nights since he was born.

Bethany is also a doll. Her talking is so cute. If I sneeze, she'll say "bless you." She talks so well. She calls her siblings - Lexi, Abba, Warren, Jo, IE, Sammy, and baby.

Oh, here's a good one. So we were driving to church this morning, I was actually. Anyway, the back roads are all ice. Everytime I accelerated, the van would fishtail. It was kind of cool and fun. Well, someone started saying that Dad does it better so I thought I would do it a little "bigger." So we start fishtailing more and more and all the sudden it feels out of control and Warren goes, "and she looses it" and we plowed into a snowbank and the van spun around. We lost part of the fender, the kids freaked and were all like, everyone get buckled despite being half a block from church, and all wanted "dad" to drive home. Humility does wonder for a person! We're going to have to fix the fender otherwise the license plate will fall off though so I feel bad for costing us money for something stupid. More money wasted. Hopefully it was a good lesson for everyone though. Too bad Autumn missed it, she was up in the cities still.