Our Little Sweetie

*Pics taken by Max's Aunt Amie--Thanks!

He's Here!

We are excited to present Maxwell David:

He joined our family on April 6, 10:48 a.m. He was 7 lbs. 12 oz, 21 inches tall. The significance of the day was overwhelming to us. Instead of sharing a birthday with his dad, like we had hoped, he is able to share a birthday with our Savior. Such a beautiful thought.

It was an emotional first meeting. He is so sweet and perfect in every way.

Here he is meeting the rest of the crew:

The kids have been looking forward to his arrival with much anticipation. Even before he began growing within me, they asked almost daily when they would be able to have a new brother or sister. He is very well loved already.

Meeting Grandma and Grandpa H.

Meeting Grandma and Grandpa T.

Today he is 2 days old, and we brought the kids home from their grandparents' house so we could be together. For a while, I have been feeling like someone is missing in our home. Now I know why I felt that way. Maxwell is here now, and we feel complete.

Tall, Dark, Handsome, and 36

Swen celebrated his 36th birthday yesterday. We kept joking that we can no longer round down to 30. We can't avoid the fact that he is fast approaching 40. I had never thought about it before, but when he made some reference to the golden age of 25, I said, "I am SO glad you're not 25 anymore." We started thinking about all of the positive things that come with age. Hopefully we've grown wiser from our mistakes, more temperate from needlessly exerting intense energy over small issues, and less contentious from a lot of practice compromising. Swen and I have come to the point in our relationship where we can practically jump to the end of potential arguments. (Hallelujah!) I hope we're better parents, neighbors, money managers, and disciples than we were 10 years ago.

Of course, growing older does bring some bad news, too. Our bodies are slowly falling apart. I feel that now, especially as I approach the end of my 5th pregnancy. I wondered aloud yesterday, "What do you think I'd look like if I hadn't chosen the family life?" Swen and I came to the conclusion that I would likely have less gray hair, no varicose veins, no stretch marks, and probably fewer wrinkles. I'd also have more clothes, and they might actually be in style. BUT, I'd likely have fewer smile lines and more sad lines on my face, and I would definitely be less fulfilled than I am now. Who knows? (and who cares, really?) ANYWAY, that was a meandering train of thought. What I really wanted to post about is my hubby's birthday.



One of the joys of living close to extended family is that we get 3 parties for each birthday. On Sunday, we celebrated with my side of the family. All of our kids helped decorate this crazy cake. It was quite the project.



Yesterday the 2 younger kids and I kidnapped Swen from work and took him out for lunch.



We were really glad he was generous with his chocolate cake.



In the evening, we had some friends over for homemade pizza and lemon cake. (Yes, that's 3 cakes so far!).



The kids made this candy bar poster for him. I thought it was pretty clever. It says:
Dear Dad, You are EXTRA KISSABLE and worth more than 100 GRAND. We (the Howard RUNTS) think U R as sweet as a STARBURST and a M&M (magnificent and marvelous) person, too! You are a STAR/BURST ing with love, so you have HIGH ENDURANCE to SOUR people. Thanks for playing w/ us and making us SNICKER. Love, Joe-Dog, Ike man, Alyssa girl, Maxwell, and Lincoln-boy.

We had been hoping for a double birthday for the length of my pregnancy, so we were a little disappointed when Maxwell didn't make his appearance. But, other than that it was a fabulous day! Next up: the 4th cake, which will be enjoyed with Swen's side of the family sometime very soon.

Mood Swings

I'm an effective person about every other day. One day I'm gung ho, trying to find things to keep me busy so time will pass. The next day, I'm tired and frustrated that time is passing so slowly. Yesterday was my down day. I was a little depressed after coming home from my doctor's appointment. I picked up a book at the library on the way home and read the entire thing before the end of the day. I got a little feisty with the doctor, because she WOULD NOT admit that my baby was coming any second. She also made the mistake of saying I was only 35 and 6/7 weeks along. Excuse me, but I'm over 36 weeks. You have to give me every single day I've earned. Plus, I should technically be 37 weeks, because as you know, the ultrasound showed the baby was a week further along than we thought. Though you, my dear doctor, would not officially change the due date just to torture me. AND by belly has consistently been measuring one week bigger than my fake due date says it should. GRRRRR, why won't you just admit that I'm ready to give birth at any moment? I know if you would just admit it, Maxwell would decide to make his appearance. It's all your fault.

I left the doctor's office feeling bad that I had been grumpy (I didn't actually say all the things written above--but I was thinking them!), wondering why I had picked that doctor in the first place (I actually really like her), and discouraged thinking the baby will NEVER come (will he?).

Today is supposed to be my high energy day. I'm going to put on a smile, get some laundry done, wash some dishes, make bread, and actually have dinner on the table at 5:30. Yea! Let's kick it into gear!

Here's a little of what we've been up to on my good days:



Enjoying the good weather with my chickies.



Nabbing daddy from work for a quick picnic and trip to the park.






Painting. (Actually lying on the bed while Swen paints) :) We finally got the boy's room done after having them beg and beg and beg. It looks really good, but I haven't taken an after pic. yet.



This was taken on a really good day. Lincoln is wearing all of my hard work. Observe his shirt, schmeered with bits of samples from Costco. I stocked up on some great groceries for the week. While sporting a big, heavy bowling ball-like appendage at my middle, grocery shopping is no small feat. No sir. Once you load the cart with things you need, circle around the store several times to make sure the whining chickies don't miss the samples that weren't quite done at the first pass-by, load the groceries into the car, stop at 2 more stores to take advantage of good deals, pack the groceries inside, and put them away, a girl can be quite exhausted!

On Lincoln's pants, he is modeling freshly ground whole wheat flour, which he scooted around in while he was helping me make bread. His face demonstrates the chocolate chip cookies we made b/c mommy really needed chocolate. His smile reflects the happiness that comes when Joe is chasing 4 enthusiastically screaming girls in and out of the house playing hide-and-go seek, and Isaac is wrestling around with several neighbor boys. His hungry belly reminds us of the pots of beans I soaked, cooked, and divided into bags to freeze for future meals. His messy clothes illustrate the loads of laundry I washed, folded, and put away. Whew! It was a really good day.

I was actually on a natural high most of the day because I felt like such an effective person. During all of the chaos after the boys came home, I was full of joy reflecting on how much I love to be a mother. I love it when the neighbor kids know they can come to our house and enjoy hot bread and fresh cookies. It's great when our house is full of giggles and everyone feels welcome.

Now swing to the next day. I was completely annoyed when the neighbors asked for cookies, and told them we weren't going to eat cookies til after dinner. I made the kids play outside, and I didn't even know what I was going to make when dinner time arrived. Time to break out the good ol' tortillas and cheese. My poor family. They've probably started keeping track of which days they'll get the good mom and which days they'll get the lazy mom. I think it would be good if I started putting in a 50% effort every day instead of the 100%-0% swing. 50% isn't fabulous, but at least my family would be less confused by the whole pregnant mama business.

K. Well, I guess I'd better go practice being a half-way effective person today.

48 Hour Days

The clock in my life is moving about half-time. I didn't realize what a problem it was until yesterday. I got Lissy ready for school in the morning and rushed to my doctor appointment. I signed in and sat in a very crowded waiting room. A few minutes later, the front desk lady loudly announced that my appointment actually isn't until next week. If I wanted to see the doctor, she could get me in, but it would take a few minutes. I started giggling and my face turned red as I explained that I didn't really need to see the doctor, I just thought that two weeks had passed since my last appointment. I struggled to maintain my embarrassed giggling as I told Lincoln that it was time to leave the toy table and head home.

At this point, the confusing thoughts I'd been having finally started to make sense. On Monday night, I was perplexed as I rummaged through my brain to recall what we had done last week for FHE. I could only remember what we had done 2 weeks ago, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember the week before. Additionally, as I did my typical Tuesday morning weight graph, I couldn't recall what I had weighed the previous week--I could only remember 2 weeks ago. Throughout the week, I had experienced numerous moments of confusion just like these. When the doctor's office confirmed that the two weeks that had mysteriously passed in my life were actually one, it was a major AH-HA moment for me. I guess I've lost it.

I am so ready for this little boy to come, it's driving me nuts. That's the only problem with having typically short pregnancies. Patience runs out a lot sooner than it should. I'm only 35ish weeks along, but I'M SO READY TO BE DONE! Lincoln came at 36 weeks; Alyssa and Joe came at 37 and 38 weeks. Since I went into early labor at 29 weeks with this one, I've had it stuck in head that he would arrive any day. The practical me has to step in and whisper that I really don't want him to come too early. "Having a premature baby really isn't a great plan," I remind myself. But GRRRRR--it sure is hard to wait.

In the mean time, I have a serious case of nesting syndrome. I think I've run out of things to do in order to be ready.



His blankets are sewn and stacked neatly in the closet.



His quilt from Grandma T. is done. (And isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?)



The baby hammock is hung, awaiting a warm and squirmy body to make it sway.



The family room and kitchen have a fresh coat of paint. (And they look fab, if I do say so myself.)



I'm getting plenty of practice rocking cute bundles, although I'm seriously glad Maxwell won't be 40 lbs. for a few years. The old arm gets a little tired after a while.



I've made the trendy carseat canopy. (I've heard that any baby who wants to be some baby has to have one of these nowadays. I would hate for Maxwell to feel like he isn't in style.)



His clothes are washed, organized into 0-3, 3-6, and 6-9 months, and the 0-3 mo. are stacked neatly into a clean dresser.

I've organized my scrapbook stuff. The garage is clean and semi-organized. The cabinets are clean. The baseboards have been wiped down. I've sold over $200 of extra stuff to de-clutter. I've done a month of meal planning and grocery shopping (though we'll likely have to start over by the time he actually arrives, darn it!)



My bag is packed, ready to grab before our quick escape.

Now the only thing left to do is figure out how to make time pass more quickly than a snail's pace, so his birthday will actually arrive sometime this century...

The Belly

Royal Wash Day

There's something magical about a princess's laundry hanging to dry. It kind of makes me wish I was still young enough to wear a sparkly tutu.