8 months

My boy Henry is funny. I wish everyone could spend time with him because you would undoubtedly be laughing.

He is now 8 months old. And on the move.

Months ago, I blogged about how I was looking forward to Henry crawling, because I thought he would enjoy being more independent and overall be happier. He's always been a very content, happy baby...but he seemed anxious to crawl.

Many people told me that I shouldn't look forward to having a mobile baby because it would complicate things. But I disagreed. The crawling I was looking forward to the independence and happiness. And as I anticipated, I enjoyed the crawling just as much as Henry did.

What I didn't anticipate was that within 2 weeks of crawling, he would start pulling himself up on everything.

Babies pulling themselves up on everything ranks right up there with babies starting to eat solid foods. Two stages I really don't like!

Thankfully, Henry deals with injury well. He crawls smack into walls, pulls himself up and falls on the ground, crawls over something and falls on the other side...and hardly cries. Or if he does cry, he gets over things quickly.

Henry also loves people. He is an extremely social baby, and doesn't show much (if any) shyness at all. If you give him attention, he will want to be around you.

It also appears that Henry is trying to speak. His "ma-ma-ma-ma" sounds show up when he's cranky, and his "da-da-da-da" sounds show up when David is around and he is playing. And to get your attention, he most definitely says a version of "hey" until you look at him.

Henry has recently started clapping a lot too, and gets excited about finally making the clapping noise with his hands. He especially likes it when he hears someone say "yaaaay!" and then he looks up, smiles, and claps.

And finally, Henry is still a good eater. He thinks he's more grown up than he is and doesn't like to eat his baby foods with a baby spoon. So if I disguise it with a big regular spoon, he'll eat it then. But he likes to feed himself and will truly eat anything. On Thanksgiving, he ate a meal of turkey, potatoes, jello, cheese, and rolls.

Love you Henry!

Dear Adele

Today is Adele's 3 year birthday. I wasn't sure exactly how to write a blog that summarized who Adele is. So I decided to write her a letter instead.

Dear Adele,
Happy Birthday, my sweet daughter! You are beautiful, sensitive, caring, loving, helpful, respectful, obedient, energetic, spunky, and so incredibly funny.

I remember so clearly the day you were still in my tummy and I found out we were going to have a girl. I was thrilled, and so excited to see ways that you would be like your daddy and me. 

I remember just as well the day you were born. You were so tiny and fit so snug on my chest. I wanted to bundle you up and never let you go. 

I did have to share you a lot those first few months. All of our friends in Costa Rica couldn't get enough of holding you, and everyone oohed and ahhed over each new facial expression you displayed. Once you met your grandparents and aunts and uncles over Christmas, they too wanted to take turns holding you, bathing you, and taking naps with you. 

My heart melted the first time you smiled at me. And when you started giggling, I spent a lot of time making silly faces and trying to get you to keep giggling. 

You showed your energetic, playful self early. You loved it when we held you upside down. You giggled the hardest when Daddy would bounce you on his lap, or toss you up in the air. And you loved to dance. We spent a lot of time playing music loudly and dancing around our apartment. 

We also saw glimpses of your particular, independent self shine through. You hated to be cold, didn't like water to get in your eyes, and quit using any pacifier just because your favorite one had a hole in it.

I have been amazed at how smart you are. You learned quickly how to crawl, walk, and talk, memorize songs, recognize letters, and make up songs of your own. 

You are extremely loving and caring. You are gentle with animals, and look out for babies and kids littler than you. I was so excited for you to have a baby brother and see you adapt into the role of a big sister. You have excelled in this new role. The way you comfort Henry, make him smile and laugh, and let him love on you is so sweet. 

And you are the best daughter we could have ever asked for. You challenge the rules in a very appropriate way, exploring your independence. And yet you are very respectful and obedient, as you listen to Daddy and me very well. 

It was a different kind of love that I learned about when I gave birth to you, and that love continues to grow in huge ways every day as we play, read books, work on crafts, hold conversations, and simply spend time together. 

I love you so very, very much.
-Mommy

Shots, stickers, and the power of suggestion

I hate shots.

That's actually quite the understatement.

When I was in college, I injured my back and had to quit track and eventually quit volleyball. Doctors never really knew what was wrong with my back. I tried lots of things - physical therapy, all kinds of prep before and treatments after sports practices, and even cortisone shots.

I went in for the cortisone shots knowing how much I hate shots, and hearing how big the needle is for a cortisone shot...so I never even looked. I turned my back and leaned over the table, lifted up my sweatshirt, and tried to mentally prepare for the shots. The doctor injected me about 10 different times, in order to spread the cortisone around.

After the shots, I attempted to stand back up...and don't remember much else as the world went black.

The next few seconds probably seemed like hours, at least for the doctor. In addition to him grabbing my sweatshirt to keep me from falling on the floor, he noticed a screech that came from the doorway with my mother yelling hysterically "you killed my daughter!"

Apparently an overly dramatic response to shots runs in the family.

I'm quite certain the doctor didn't know what to do with the two of us. I had to stay in the office for a couple hours because anytime I tried to get up, I felt woozy all over again.

I was told I have a condition that affects the way I react to needles.

I have had to get many shots since those dreadful cortisone shots. I've traveled to multiple countries around the world that required shots, and I've given birth twice and had to receive multiple blood tests and shots.

It hasn't gotten any better.

It's a mental condition. I know the shot doesn't hurt. Everyone tells me that in an attempt to reassure me, but I know. It's totally mental.

So it's no wonder that I apparently passed this trait on to my overly-dramatic daughter.

Adele has never ever done well with shots. Starting with her two-month appointment in Costa Rica, she has always reacted poorly to shots. It didn't help that in Costa Rica, the nurse would take her time in between each injection. Not like in the U.S., where the kid is injected with 3 needles practically at the same time. In Costa Rica, Adele received a shot, had to wait in agony while the nurse prepared the second shot, and so forth.

The "waiting in agony" might have been me. I was the one standing in the corner with my back turned, tears falling down my face, as David was the hero holding her down on the table.

Adele always had a fever that spiked after her shots as well. One time she even had minor convulsions because of a high fever.

Now that she's a bit older, she actually understands going to the doctor and getting shots.

It's worse.

The last time we were at the doctor's and she needed shots, it took 2-3 days for her to get over it. And we're not talking just mentally. The girl could hardly walk because she complained about her legs hurting from shots.

It was pitiful. We had to carry her around, and not touch her legs as best as possible.

Here's the kicker - Adele received a couple of stickers after getting shots, so she put them on her legs down by her knees. All it took was a few hours, and somehow she got a mental block on where her shots actually were. Somehow mentally, those shots had migrated and were now under her stickers.

The bandaids fell off easy enough...but the stickers were sticky.

My ridiculous daughter wouldn't let us touch her stickers and complained about the owies underneath them for days after she could finally walk again. The only way we could get the stickers off was to let Adele sit in the bathtub for a long time and eventually those stickers fell off.

So it's been months since Adele's had shots. And yet, stickers and bandaids have the same effect on her - with or without a shot or an injury.

Just the other day, she complained about her leg hurting, so David put a bandaid on it.

Ahh, the power of suggestion.

All of a sudden, within hours, that bandaid was covering a serious injury. It somehow grew astronomically in her mind. And that injury was so serious that Adele wouldn't even wear pants for a couple days because the pants would touch the bandaid and make her injury hurt worse.

It's a good thing the boys in our family aren't over-dramatic wusses...apparently Adele and I both need them to keep us grounded.

Some Spanish reflections

Along with my full-time job of being a stay-at-home mom, I work part-time as a Spanish interpreter.

I work day-to-day, and receive texts to see if I am available for any certain job. It works well, because I can coordinate jobs with David's schedule and only accept jobs when he can watch the kids.

I love it.

Speaking Spanish makes me feel like I can communicate with a whole new group of people. If language is a tool that helps connect cultures, I can be that bridge that helps someone feel more connected to our U.S. culture.

I know the feeling of being overwhelmed in a country that is different from my home culture. With different ways of prioritizing values. Different humor. Different "unsaid" rules that are understood without having to be spoken.

Sometimes I interpret for a person going for a doctor's visit. Sometimes it's for a family who is dealing with their child having developmental (mental or physical) delays and needing assistance with therapy appointments. Sometimes I interpret for a patient at a mental health clinic or hospital.

I love the feeling of being useful. That my Spanish education, and the time spent practicing it in Costa Rica is worth something more than just personal growth.

I understand that there are problems with immigration. I have no answers, and honestly don't really have much of a clue as to how to begin to solve those problems.

But I do know that people in this country who speak Spanish really appreciate it when someone helps them out. No, we don't have to. Yes, it would be easier if everyone in this English-speaking country spoke English.

But that's not the case.

Even though I spoke Spanish pretty good, I came across many situations in Costa Rica that were difficult for me to communicate. Sometimes it was hard to understand a person. Sometimes my brain was tired. Sometimes I just simply didn't know the vocabulary needed. There were many times I really appreciated the patience of a Costa Rican, rather than sensing their irritation of me not being able to express myself as clearly as I wanted.

Sometimes the "press 2 for English" option was very appealing when making a difficult phone call!

People who live in the U.S. are here for many reasons. Without being able to speak Spanish, it's difficult to understand their situation and what brought them here. It's easy to pass judgment. Easy to stereotype.

But it could be just as easy to speak in kindness. To smile. To be welcoming and helpful.

By learning Spanish, by traveling, by being immersed in another culture, by interacting with a variety of people here through their native language...all of this continues to teach me who I want to be as a person. Would I have come to the same conclusions of who I want to be without these experiences? I know I would see the world differently than I do now.

Everyone has a story, and I am glad to be a part of helping people tell their own.

A political post

I grew up around politics. I mean, I am from Iowa. Political campaigning in Iowa begins about 10 minutes after the election is over when the president for the next 4 years is announced.

We caucus for the primaries in Iowa. It's strange, really. And oddly cool. No secret voting there - stand in a room and gather around the candidate you want to win. Majority rules.

Most of my adult life I have lived outside of Iowa. So when Iowa pops up in the news about presidential candidates visiting and polls and caucuses, I take a bit of pride in that. Those that live in Iowa usually feel the opposite. They are the ones bombarded with phone calls and inundated with political commercials.

Politics has always been somewhat entertaining for me too. Not only all the hype in Iowa, but it served as entertainment while we lived in Costa Rica too. We obviously didn't get the political commercials, so we searched the internet and read websites to keep up with the election.

This year is a bit different.

With the rise of social media and the ability to communicate with the entire nation, politics naturally dominates conversation as the election draws near. Not the sit-down-and-discuss-political-issues face-to-face type conversations, but the passive-aggressiveness that our social media allows (or even encourages). The few words or sentences people write as their statuses, or tweet, (or even blog about!) shows their opinion loud and clear. Often intended to resonate and connect with people, sometimes with the intention of ruffling feathers or even flat out offending people.

It seems as though to support one candidate means to slander the other candidate. Why is it so hard for the politicians to simply state their positions on issues, instead of pointing out problems with the other candidate's stance? Why is it so hard for us as voters to simply state why we are voting for one candidate without speaking maliciously against the other?

I read an article that started off saying that come Tuesday, there will be many, many people on their knees praying for their particular candidate. And after the results come in and a candidate is declared the winner, regardless of the winner there will be people praising God for the outcome and others weeping.

My hope is that regardless of the outcome...we all will continue to pray for our country.

And support our president.

Halloween

In a very strange way, Halloween makes me proud to be from Des Moines, Iowa. Halloween is done differently there. Of course, I never knew it was different because it was normal for me growing up. 

In Des Moines, we trick-or-treated the night before Halloween. And named it Beggar's Night. And in order to actually get candy, each kid must have a joke they tell at each door they visit. Why, you ask?

I don't actually know.

Thanks to the surge of social media, on October 30th my facebook blew up with pictures and status updates having to do with trick-or-treating, costumes, and silly jokes. I was flooded with memories of my younger days of trick-or-treating. My mom would actually only give out candy if she didn't know the answer to the joke the kid would tell. Cruel, you might think. But kids loved the challenge.

I enjoy being from a place that's different. I like not being able to explain our traditions to people. Or somehow justifying the joke-telling by saying "kids have to work for their candy!"

Like the rest of the country, we trick-or-treated last night. On Halloween.

Adele comments we heard were "Can we go to just one more house?" (after every single house), "This night is SO MUCH FUN!" and "I was just wanting another piece of candy" (after visiting a house that gave away small toys instead of candy).

We heard the occasional growl and squeal out of Henry, which fit his lion costume perfectly.

It was a fun night, filled with cute kids in costumes, candy that will last us for many months to come, and a very excited Adele.

But I have to admit...I missed the jokes.

Here are the kiddos:

Talking about their costumes

Ready to get candy!

Cute little lion...

A ladybug and her friend Charlie Brown (Adele and Jude)

Adele's favorite Halloween decoration - a giant Mickey Mouse pumpkin!

Funny Adele

My girl Adele is FUNNY. She makes us laugh a lot. The phrases she comes up with, the questions she asks...we spend a lot of time laughing.

I wish I could remember everything she says, or I wish I constantly carried around a pen an paper to record everything. Here are some fairly recent ones that I remembered to take note of:

~One day Adele started singing "Farmer and Henry, Farmer and Henry, hi-ho the derry-o, Farmer and Henry." I questioned her on it and thought about it for a second until I realized she apparently usually sings "The Farmer and Adele..." etc. (instead of Farmer in the dell...)

~Along the same lines, she finally started figuring out that same song better. So we thought. Last night she sang "The farmer takes the cheese, the farmer takes the cheese, hi-ho the derry-o, the farmer takes the cheese" followed by "the wife takes the bagel, the wife takes the bagel, hi-ho the derry-o, the wife takes the bagel".

~Not too long ago we were in the car listening to the radio. A news clip came on about the singer Adele just having a baby and talking about getting married. I turned it up a little to see if my girl Adele would recognize the fact that her name was being said. Sure enough, she was listening intently, and when it was over she said to me very excitedly, "Mommy he said I'm getting married!" (She is already excited for Aunt Rachel to get married in December.)

~Adele has been enjoying her nursery rhymes a lot these days, especially those she knows the tune to. And makes up tunes for the others. Even though she knows most pretty well, she can get confused. The other day she started reciting Humpty Dumpty and finished singing Jack and Jill. It went something like this: "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after".

~Adele will usually request to watch a little show before nap and bedtime. We almost always just put on a short you tube clip of a show she likes. It's perfect because she can watch 2-3 shows, 3-4 minutes each, and actually watch less than 15 minutes of TV. She often asks for Mickey Mouse or Jake and the Neverland Pirates. One day she saw My Little Pony and pointed to it so I asked "you want to watch My Little Pony?" and she said yes. So ever since then, whenever she requests to watch a clip of that particular show, she asks for "Mommy's Little Ponies". If David asks her "You want to watch My Little Pony?" she will always respond "No, MOMMY'S Little Ponies!" since I was the one who initially introduced her to "my little pony".