Triplets

Do you remember two years ago when I had a game with pictures of baby Joseph and baby Matthew and you had to guess which was which?

Well, I just reverted all the posts to drafts so you can't cheat and use them today for this year's version of the game. After all, I only have so many pictures of the boys in matching outfits and poses so I have to reuse some.

So, without further ado, can you figure out which pictures are of each boy?

As in years past, we have the

Whale Outfit

Blue Striped

Frog on couch

Frog on towel

Yellow

Mommy and me

 and, keeping it tricky as always,
Dinosaur

Happy guessing!

The Hunker-Down Year

Today marks one year since we turned in our keys and left Michigan.

It's been a good year. We've had a lot of fun experiences while living here -- visiting Philadelphia, Boston, Providence, and New York; participating in the Hartford Temple Open House; seeing a few church history sites such as the Johnson farm on the way out and Harmony, PA in May; getting to play at parks in New Haven and surrounding cities; attending church and Institute activities, enjoying the art museum, concerts, and bell tower at Yale; getting Joseph involved in gymnastics and soccer; working with the kids and youth in the ward; making lots of new friends; and getting to see Kaylie and Derek in New Jersey pretty often. (And having a baby, who is still very cute.)

All in all, though, it's felt like a really quiet year. Although there were playgroups and play dates, for the most my boys just played and fought with each other day in and day out. Joy School gradually faded away by the winter time, and baby signing time disappeared after one bad snowstorm. I didn't teach piano lessons or take voice lessons. We had people over for dinner a few times but not as often as in years past. We didn't even really get to know our neighbors all that well (language barrier plus we never saw most of them), and honestly any efforts to make our complex look lived in (such as chalk or hanging door wreaths) were shot down by the property manager (in the case of the door wreaths, he rescinded permission after 10 months when I was a very emotional 39 weeks pregnant).

Of course, a lot of the quiet is my own fault, and a lot of that is because I was pregnant and oh so tired and oh so shy for oh so much of the last year. And a lot of the time I preferred the quiet to the constant stream of activities in Ann Arbor. In general though, I've found that I prefer that I prefer exercising, learning, working, playing, etc. in a group. So here's to trying harder to get a bit more involved this year! (Kindergarten should help.)

Here are a few things I discovered this year:

• Sometimes it's just okay to be a warm body. If I look back at the times I was most useful this past year, they were all when I was just at home not doing much and available to do some hardcore babysitting. Those times it didn't matter how much school I've had or how many years of piano lessons I've taken or how good I am at writing long detailed emails. What mattered was that someone had a medical emergency and I was able to watch kids in a moment of crisis. I definitely prefer using those other skills to babysitting (and really, I didn't actually babysit that much this year) but it was still nice to be able to help babysit when those other skills weren't being actively used.
• Similarly, being a warm body was the most important thing I could do at church. There were some crazy Sundays when hardly any adults were around so I played organ last minute, taught a class, taught Sharing Time, taught Singing Time, played piano, and took care of irreverent children. (Not all of those the same Sunday, but as many of those as was humanly possible.) It was good to have the knowledge and creativity to fill those roles, but being a warm body was what mattered most.
• Years ago when I was a Primary pianist one of my biggest problems with the calling was that I wanted to be consulted more -- help choose songs, be asked my opinion about reverence and room setup, be included in decision making, etc. Now that I've served in a Primary Presidency I know that being consulted still doesn't mean you get your way. Haha!
• I became of even firmer opinion that people should check their email each time they look at their phone and respond to most things within 24 hours. And respond. Oh, respond.
• The bigger your family gets the easier it is to just do things with family. Even having two kids has made it that much easier to not worry so much about your kids playing with friends. I still feel bad for taking Joseph from a neighborhood full of friends, but at least he has had Matthew to play with him (ie wreck his stuff).
• I don't have any plans to homeschool, and a lot of that is because it would probably turn into unschooling. But it was really fun coming up with activities on the fly with Joseph and Matthew, and it was nice to have lots of books to learn things from. I guess the anatomy book we got from a yard sale actually came in handy.
• I just read an article about a reformed white supremacist who said, "I believe that people become radicalized, or extremist, because they're searching for three very fundamental human needs: identity, community and a sense of purpose." To be honest, I felt like I lost a bit of all three of those this year with only my family and my Primary calling to fill my time. (Of course, this has been a rough year regarding identity anyway -- what happens when anything you happen to agree with mildly somehow puts you in the same camp as extremists who feel the same?) At any rate, it's been important to discover that I need at least one other serious social outlet in order to feel whole. (Contenders right now include volunteering at school and figuring out how to share my hymn arrangements [which I've conceded will involve other people]).
• This has kind of been a hunker-down ward in that callings were spread thin enough that most non-essential callings weren't filled (or insufficiently filled, like Cub Scouts, haha . . . I still have such strong opinions about that). On one hand it really reminded me of what my bishop said at BYU -- his number one job was to make sure everyone got to take the Sacrament each week. This happened every week, and that's really what matters most. On the other hand . . . man oh man I've missed ward choir and scheduled playgroups and Zumba. I don't think church necessarily has to fill a ton of social functions, but it nice to have them in addition to the more important spiritual functions.
• I still don't like shopping and don't like going on the freeway to get to the grocery store. But I'm used to it. Which is a big deal for me.
• Perhaps the most important thing I've learned this quiet year is that even though things are quite different from Ann Arbor in a lot of ways, I'm much the same. The same things that bug me here bugged me there. The same things I liked there I like here. Even if I lived in an absolutely perfect place with perfect friends and perfect proximity to stores and parks, I would probably still find things that bugged me just because of my own personality. So, you may as well learn to be happy where you are. And it's always possible.

Especially if there are mountains to hike.

Easy and hard

How is it with three?

This has been my best and speediest recovery yet (even with the same tearing as the other times) . . . which is just what I needed those first few days to balance out a rather disappointing postpartum stay in the hospital.

Jacob is my sleepiest baby yet . . . which is just what I need while Joseph and Matthew squabble over everything.

Jacob is already a smiley baby . . . and yet his wakeful times are still fussy and getting him down for naps is still tricky.

Everything is easier, and everything is harder. It's easier to nurse because I know how and harder to nurse because Matthew wants to be on my lap too. It's easier to get out of the house because it beats being in the house and harder to get out because there are just that many more bodies to buckle in. It's easier to stay calm because I've done it before and harder to stay calm because there's so much at stake.

So I laugh and lower my expectations and let myself enjoy things as much as possible.

And since these boys are easy to love, it's not too hard to have three.

Two heroes

Two babies

I love how they love each other

Jacob's birth story

"This is the best thing I've ever read," I thought to myself after reviewing Matthew's birth story a few weeks ago.

"There is absolutely no way I'm doing that again," I thought immediately after that. If the hour of transition hadn't been bad enough what with my moaning and dry sobbing through endless, continuous contractions, then the ten or so minutes of pushing through a crown of fire and thorns certainly sealed the deal. I was not going to have pushing like that ever again. I was getting an epidural.

That is, I was, if I ever started having regular contractions. I began having contractions early Sunday morning but I knew from previous labors that they didn't quite hurt enough to count, nor were they consistent enough for me to count. I scheduled an appointment for myself Monday morning (my actual due date) to see if they could do something to turn my self-diagnosed prodromal labor into real labor. Although it was a bit disheartening to learn that 30 hours of irregular contractions had only dilated me to 2 cm and 50% effaced, the visit was worth it to watch the nurse watch my tummy for a good 5 minutes during a stress test. The belts were a little tight so the baby in me did all he could to kick them off. For most of the stress test he was sticking his elbows and knees out to create visible bulges across my abdomen and rolling around to create ripples across my tummy.

The nurse stood there just staring for several minutes. "I've been in labor and delivery for 5 years, and I've never seen anything like this," she said. I had spent several nights enjoying this gymnastics show for the past few months, but this particular routine combined with her reaction made me giggle. After she left, the doctor stripped my membrane and I hoped for the best.

But it was not to be. The rest of the day was uneventful until my parents pulled up in their minivan which was filled to the brim with canned goods, boxes, and even a bassinet. They had made their long trek across most of the United States to help us for almost two weeks. It was as magical as it sounds.

The next few days we showed them around parts of New Haven -- the food trucks, bits of Yale, some parks, etc. My mom did an excellent job scouting out several of the grocery stores and filling our home with their contents.

But still no baby. Still no baby.

Lady Antepartum

 Then one afternoon that began to change. Although my contractions never made it to my back (which I had used to distinguish real contractions from fake ones for my last two labors), they became more uncomfortable and more regular as afternoon turned into evening. While Kevin and my dad watched Spiderman (now joining Big Hero 6 as one of the worst movies ever because I was exposed to it during labor) I timed the contractions until I was convinced they weren't going away.

"I'm going to call the hospital, but I'm going to time it so that they hear me try to talk through a contraction," I announced. At this point the contractions were about 6-7 minutes apart, so when it seemed like a good time I called. They assured me the doctor would call back soon. When the doctor did call, the timing was off.

"You sound awfully cheerful," she remarked. Rats, I thought. "You should wait another hour," she said.

"This is my third baby," I said, but it didn't change her mind. So I started throwing random items into the hospital bag and then sat around waiting for Spiderman to end. Once it was done Kevin and I headed to the hospital. Although I was grateful that I didn't have any contractions in the car, it made me worry. What if this didn't progress? What if all my contractions hadn't helped move things along? Luckily, once we arrived at the hospital, the contractions came every other minute so I stopped worrying. Then it was just more of the waiting game, bracing myself through the "internal organ hugs" (to quote Bunmi Laditan) and losing all traces of my previous cheerfulness with each hug.

Eventually the doctor showed up and checked me. "You're almost at 7 cm," she said, which wasn't too much of a surprise. Kevin and I walked with the nurse over to the delivery room where I made it clear I wanted an epidural. "Pushing hurt a lot last time. I don't want that again." She agreed heartily and the anesthesiologist showed up soon after.

When he stuck the needle in my back I flinched pretty hard, so when he told me "You're the best patient of the day," I didn't believe him, and I told him so. "You say that to everyone."

"Wow," he responded incredulously.

"He really doesn't," the nurse promised. "You're doing awesome."

The anesthesiologist kept me distracted from the rest of the epidural process by talking about Gordon Hayward and the NBA in general, and then before I knew it my thighs were beginning to feel numb. Hallelujah! I was laid down onto my left side to get it all numb, and then the doctor showed up with some residents and med students.

"We're going to break your water, and that will probably speed up labor quite a bit." Once she had done that, she said, "If I don't hear from you I'll come back in 2 hours. But . . . I'll probably hear from you before then."

I then lay down on my right side to get that side numb so I could take a quick nap. I could tell I was going through transition, but the epidural had numbed the pain on my left side and taken the edge of the right side so it was a lot more bearable. Within about two minutes of closing my eyes, I felt something.

"I need to push," I told Kevin. He pushed the call button and the doctor came back in. The baby had descended further into the birth canal, but it still wasn't quite time. She left and I settled back down to take a nap.

Within five minutes, I felt the urge to push again. I didn't care if I was crying wolf. I needed to push! The doctor came back in and said she would stick around until the baby was born since it was definitely happening soon. The resident checked me and I had gone from the -1 station (according to the doctor's measurement a few minutes earlier) to the -3 station (that is, the baby had gone back up the birth canal). The doctor made kind of a funny face at that impossibility but let it slide. "We'll give it one more minute and then you'll be good to push."

"I don't know if I want to push," I said. "I don't think the epidural has kicked in enough."

"You should be numb there, so don't worry."

And then the pushing began. I figured out pretty fast that I wasn't numb in that region, and I also figured out pretty fast that it hurt. I let out the same primeval wails of agony and wordless roars as I had almost exactly 2 years earlier.

In moments of lucidity, I had the same thought over and over. "Seriously? Seriously? Seriously? I got that needle in my back to avoid this and I still feel it? Seriously? Seriously?"

I reminded myself that as soon as it was done it wouldn't hurt anymore. Soon a baby would slide out and all would be good. I just had to get him out! After 11 minutes of fire and thorns, he came out clutching his umbilical cord and screaming up a storm.

And then, oh, sweet relief! That's a big baby!" the doctor announced. "Do you want to guess how big?"

"8 pound range," I said conservatively. After I cuddled with him for a few happy minutes, the umbilical cord stopped pulsing so they cut the cord and weighed him. 8 pounds, 8 ounces. Big enough, that's for sure.

And absolutely perfect.

We sure love him!

Fulfilling the measure of creation

One great thing about young children is how they bring new meaning to objects which previously seemed mundane. You see how these everyday objects blossom with their new purpose.

For example, here are the new titles we can give to various objects in the house:

Phone: now called "Mobile device for watching YouTube clips of 'Let's Go Fly a Kite.'"
Couch: now called "Viewing location for 'Let's Go Fly a Kite.'"

Laptop: now called 'Alternate device for watching "Let's Go Fly a Kite.'"

Piano: "Live accompaniment device for 'Let's Go Fly a Kite.'"

Floor: "Stage for live performances of 'Let's Go Fly a Kite.'"

Stairs: now titled "Alternate stage for performances of 'Let's Go Fly a Kite,'" although sometimes at bedtimes the words are changed to "Let's go Fly a  . . .Vitamin. Let's go Fly a Brush Teeth."  (Also fitting into this category: crib, chairs, bathtub, car)

Curiously, it has been impossible to get a good video of Matthew singing it. The second we pull out our phones he runs over and asks "Can I see it?" So, this audio recording is the best we've got. It doesn't quite capture how he just wanders around saying "tuppence, paper, string . . . wings . . . bird, fist holding tight" or other parts of the song. But it's a start.




Oh, and one last title:
Matthew: "Cute kid who really likes songs about kites." So far I think he knows how to fulfill the measure of his creation.

Anastasia

One of my goals before the baby comes was to see a Broadway play. So, back in June Kevin and I decided to buy tickets to Anastasia. We decided to go July 8th since July 1st I was already planning to go to New York for the Mormon Arts Center Festival. (And, as you've read, that didn't end up working out. So it's good I didn't have any more back pain that week because I just don't think pretending to be on Broadway by watching the movie would have cut it. Nor would we have gotten a refund.)

When the day came, we dropped our kids off with some friends in the ward and then we were off to New York City! The last time we drove to New York was in the morning back in April, and this drive was a little bit crazier -- accidents from the get go, different freeways with bigger tolls since we were going to a different part of Manhattan, more pedestrians, etc. But we made it to our parking garage in one piece!

From there we walked to The Melt Shoppe, a fun little restaurant with gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches. I got a fried chicken sandwich and Kevin got a chicken club, and they were both delicious. (In retrospect, I would have not bothered with the cheese covered tater tots.)

Because nothing is more appetizing than a picture of a half-eaten sandwich. I took the picture, so I have to share it. It's one of the unwritten laws of food pictures.

We needed to make room for the tacos we also wanted to try, so we walked around Times Square a bit. To be honest, this part of New York City reminded me of what I didn't like about Paris -- trash on the ground, cigarette smoke, smells coming up from the ground. And it didn't have the absolutely beautiful buildings that redeemed Paris. But it was still cool and a bit exhilarating to be there.

The walls of M&Ms looked really cool, but at the end of the day they are all going to taste the same on the inside.

And M&Ms really aren't that good.

After we had our fill of Times Square, we walked to a taco place and got a few small tacos which were also delicious. From there we went to a cookie shop. They were all awesome!

I'm assuming people usually take pictures before they eat half the food. At least the teeth marks aren't visible, right? By the way, these really were really really really good.

We then patronized a McDonalds, or at least its bathroom (McDonalds shouldn't be surprised by that, right?) and much of the city had the same idea as us so that by the time we finally made it through the line it was time to get in line for Anastasia.

38 weeks pregnant. It's not the biggest bump in the universe, but it's still getting to be a bit to lug around every day.

Growing up, our copy of Anastasia was a self-important VHS with black bars on the top and bottom of the screen to show that it belonged somewhere better than a normal TV. (We weren't used to widescreen.) It also started with a long interview with the producers and directors that was harder to skip than it would have been on a DVD. Each time we watched that special feature, I learned more and more about how this truly was the most important movie of the 20th century.

Most importantly, there was this line:

"Obviously, in the world of animation, you basically can do whatever your imagination tells you to. So obviously having Russian ghosts, hundreds of them, coming out of portraits in this wild dance while we hear this orchestra, obviously not see that in a stage show."

The gauntlet was thrown. Would we see that in a stage show? I had to find out.

We found our seats and soon found ourselves surrounded on all sides by giddy teenage girls taking selfies and giggling. And singing "Tomorrow." (Maybe they thought the show was called Annie-stasia.)

I think every single one of those seats behind us was filled with a young woman under the age of 20.

Waiting for it to start!

And then . . . it began!

Overall, it was really well done. The singing was amazing, the story was good, and the set was incredible.

And what of the ghost dancing scene? Well, they had screens throughout the theater where they projected images of the ghosts dancing in addition to dancers on the stage. So I guess they weren't technically coming out of portraits, but it was close enough. It was awesome.

There were a few things I preferred about the movie. I thought the banter between Anya and Dmitri was better in the movie, and I liked the scene where the grandma and Anastasia reunite better in the movie than the play. There were a few things that they alluded to rather than showed (such as Dmitri refusing the money) that weren't as impactful. But maybe they would have interrupted the flow if they had been shown outright. Hard to say . . . telling a story is hard! I was fine without decomposing Rasputin, and I think the villain that replaced him was almost compelling enough. Again, I'm not sure what would have made him more compelling. Or Anastasia more compelling, for that matter. Or the new songs more compelling. What makes a play compelling? What is it about Les Mis and Fiddler on the Roof that make them Kevin's favorites? What is it about Hamilton music that is so compelling even with Lin Manuel Miranda singing it? Can that translate over to a completely historically inaccurate story? (They did add more historical context to this, which I appreciated.)

Anyway, despite my later quibbles, it was still incredible to watch. When it was done we walked through Times Square which had only gotten weirder and more crowded as it approached midnight. For that matter, driving in New York around midnight was not any better, even on the freeways. Thankfully, we crossed into Connecticut and enjoyed a peaceful ride home there on out.

So, now the baby can come any time now, right?

The New Haven Mormon Arts Center Festival

The Mormon Arts Center Festival was this weekend, and it was absolutely incredible. Riverside Church was replete with gorgeous architecture and stained glass windows, the speakers were riveting (with many people considering the talk about Francisco Estevez the best of them all), the art exhibit was astounding, and the sing-in led by Craig Jessop was an unforgettable experience.

Unfortunately, I didn't end up making it. As I mentioned, I had pretty horrendous back pain this weekend and I could barely move even after (or even thanks to) my ER visit. The train would have been awful, the subway would have been rough, and I wouldn't have even been able to sing at the sing-in if it required more than a little breathing.

So I stayed home and imagined what it would have been like seeing the art and singing with everyone. Although I knew this probably wouldn't have happened had I gone, I imagined scenarios where some accomplished composer pulled me aside, found a piano, and helped me with a few measures here and there on some arrangements I've been working on. And then President Uchtdorf shook my hand and told me to name my baby Dieter.

In good news, all the talks will be available online over the next few days, so I will gradually be able to catch up on what I missed. I'm still disappointed that I didn't get to interact with people, but my kids provided a pretty good consolation prize for me . . .

They made their own arts festival! There were costumes, there were original compositions (well, based on the Batman theme song but they made new words), and there were plenty of art exhibits!

Allow me to take you through this highly erudite, avant-garde festival.

"Bat-Tigger," designed by Joseph -- this costume explores the wide ranges of emotions in a child. The slinky sticking out of his shorts represents the playfulness embodied by Tigger, while the Batman T-shirt and "Bat-sword" sheathed in his self-constructed utility belt represent the brooding introspection that even children can't entirely escape.

"The Tree of Life," built by Joseph -- because what Mormon art exhibit is complete without a representation of Lehi's vision?

"The Great and Spacious Building," built and photographed by Joseph -- this Lego sculpture depicts a building founded on crony capitalism, untamed opulence, and an overconfidence in science and secularism as represented by all the dinosaur references. This picture is intentionally blurry to represent how the philosophies of men obscure true vision.

 

"The Inferno," crafted by Joseph -- this top-down look at Dante's Inferno reminds us that the center of hell is ice cold, as are yellow, red, and green popsicles symbolized by these foam quarter circles.

"Farmer Trance" (titled by Matthew) -- this plastic sculpture embodies the daydreams of a farmer who wants to reject an agrarian, Wendell Berry-esque existence and see a world run by robots. Either that or Matthew's just saying Transformer wrong.

"Moroni 8" -- this photograph depicts the fears of little children being sprinkled with cold water.

"The Of Book Of Mormon" (black construction paper, white crayon) -- this first piece in Joseph's triptych does a slight play on words of "The Book of Mormon," reminding us of the ownership we can feel of The Book of Mormon, as well as other gospel topics in the triptych.

"Hartford Temple at Night" (black construction paper, white crayon, yellow crayon) -- this neo-cubist look at the Hartford Temple continues the theme of ownership. A series of lines, rectangles, and triangles work together to create a representation of the temple, just as we can all work together to build a Zion community.

"Man in House at Nighttime" (black construction paper, white crayon) -- this sketch represents Mormon pioneers looking out the windows of their homes in various locations across the American Midwest. Although they were not able to achieve long term ownership of those dwellings, they had ownership in the Zion community that led them west.

"After the Language of my Fathers" (black construction paper, crayon) -- this standalone piece by Matthew tells the dramatic story of Lehi's family crossing the ocean. I think.

And finally, there was a performance of an original composition by Joseph and Matthew, entitled "Poulets."

This piece also proves that modern music doesn't just sound like toddlers pecking at the piano any more than Jackson Pollock paintings just look like toddler scribbles.

Although there were also a series of lectures given over the course of several days (the most memorable being "The color of my spoon needs to match the color of my shirt," "Hi fingers, how are you?" and "Na na na na na na na na na CHANGE DIAPER"), these will not be available on YouTube because they stop doing whatever they were doing when I pull out the camera.

We hope to attend future Mormon Arts Center events in New York City. In the meantime, at least we've got budding artists in New Haven.