No Better Group!

A couple of weeks ago,  I went to the doctor for my 20 week ultra-sound.   As anyone who's had a baby knows, this is the BIG ultrasound, during which you find out the gender of the baby (or in our case, babies.)

Everyone in our house was anxious to find out what we were having.  There were bets and conversations about whether it would be two boys, a girl and a boy, or two girls.  Everyone had an opinion and a secret wish about what they thought we were having.   Only Lucy was confident in her choice.  Since the day we found out we were having twins, Lucy has insisted without wavering, that we are having two girls.  Trying to have a conversation about it with Lucy proved pointless, because she knew that inside my tummy were two baby girls.

On the morning of the ultra-sound Andrew came with me.  I was a little nervous going into it.  Nervous about the genders, nervous about any abnormalities they might find, nervous about how our kids would react to the news.  There was a lot on my mind as we went into the appointment.  All those fears went away, however, as the lights dimmed and the images of our two babies flashed across the screen.  Two little hearts beat, arms waved wildly, legs kicked and I marveled that all that activity was going on inside my body.

The tech measured and examined and viewed everything from all angles.  Andrew and I were just caught up in watching these two babies inside me.  When it came time to discover the genders, these two babies decided to be modest and made the tech really work to discover what we were having.

After all her efforts, it turns out that all we really needed to do was listen to Lucy.  She was right all along.  Sometime in February or March we will be welcoming two baby girls to our family.  It's so funny to think that it wasn't too long ago that I wondered if Abby would ever get another sister.  I was so delighted and relieved when we learned that Lucy would be a girl and that at long last Abby would have a sister.  Now, I can hardly believe that the girls will outnumber the boys and that I will be lucky enough to have four girls.  How crazy is that!?


The night of the ultrasound we announced the exciting news to our families and everyone was so excited.  Abby was so nervous before we told her that she was nearly in tears.  I've never seen a girl so happy as Abby was when she found out we were having two girls.

We are all so excited and feel so blessed to have these two sweet babies coming to our family soon - now we just need to come up with some names!

One reason I waited to tell the kids about my pregnancy was that I wanted to see my doctor and make sure everything was okay before I let them know about it.

On August 20th, when I was about 10 weeks along, I went to the doctor.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Terrible," I admitted.  "I cannot believe I brought this on myself."

My doctor laughed.  He probably hears the same sob story 30 times a day.  "You should be over it within the next few weeks, " he said as he pulled out the doppler and ran it across my tummy.

Every time I see the doctor for the first time, I hold my breath a little until he finds the heartbeat.  And, sure enough, this time after just a second of searching, there was that awesome sound of a tiny heartbeat fluttering strongly.  In all my pregnancies, it has been in this moment that a baby has become real to me.  It never ceases to amaze me, that at just ten weeks, when my baby is about the size of an olive, a strong and steady heartbeat can be heard.  Completely miraculous, I tell you.

This time was no different; my own heart grew a few sizes as I listened to that tiny heartbeat.  Even after this many pregnancies and babies, I still felt humbled and amazed to know I was growing a baby inside me.

Due to my "advanced maternal age" my doctor suggested I go the following week to get a first trimester screening.  It would involve a simple blood test and an ultrasound.  No big deal.

So, the next week, on Thursday, August 30th, I went in for my screening. It was a pretty routine thing, so I left Andrew at home with the kids.  The tech had me come into a room where she took some blood from my finger as she asked me a few medical history questions and chatted with me about my kids.

Then it was time for me to "hop" up onto the table for my ultrasound.  The lights in the room dimmed and on the screen in front of me, I saw the familiar blurry ultrasound images of life inside me.  I lay there for a second, waiting for the tech to explain to me what I was seeing, but I was not prepared for what she said.

"Oh," she said. "Did you know you are having twins?"

Let me type that again.


"Are you kidding?" I asked.

"No," she said.  "There are definitely two babies in here."

And then I said the only thing that popped into my head.  "My husband is going to kill me."  (After all, I knew I was pushing my luck when I got him to agree to one more baby - but still what a silly thing to say.)

The rest of the ultrasound was a blur.

I know I kept repeating, "I cannot believe this.  I am freaking out.  I cannot believe this.  I am freaking out.  I cannot believe this.  I am freaking out."  And I really was.  All I could think of was what kind of car we could possibly get - because frankly - I've never dreamed of driving a Ford Econoline van.

From the ultrasound it looks like they are fraternal twins and luckily everything looked perfect and healthy on both of them, but let me repeat: WE ARE HAVING TWINS!  That means we will have  SEVEN children.  It's just so crazy.

I left the ultrasound in a state of shock but was so excited to tell Andrew the news.

When I walked in the door, Andrew was on the phone and needed to send someone an email, but I REALLY wanted him to come look at ultrasound pictures with me.  We sat down on the couch together and he started going through the pictures.  "Look at that one," I said casually.  "Doesn't that profile just look like one of our babies?"  He mumbled some half-hearted agreement.  Finally he came to the last picture (the one above) and just looked at it.

"Are you kidding?" he asked.  And then we both started laughing and kind-of crying all at the same time.  It was awesome.  We were both in shock but laughing as though the biggest practical joke of all time had just been played on us.

It has been so fun telling people since then.  People have been pretty shocked to hear about the pregnancy in the first place, but to then tell them about twins has been hilarious.

I have been on a roller coaster of emotion.  On the one hand, I am so excited and grateful and thrilled beyond words - but I have also felt totally overwhelmed by every aspect of our life.  Our car is too small.  Our house is too small (seriously, we currently have five kids sharing two rooms, I think we'll really be pushing our luck with seven.)  I can't figure out how I will take care of two newborns all night long and then take care of five other kids during the day.  It's all a bit much for me to comprehend right now.

But even through all the overwhelming emotions, there is faith and comfort in knowing that these things are small details that will work themselves out and in the end, we will be blessed with two new babies in our family.  And those two babies will grow into toddlers and into children and teenagers and adults and our life will be forever blessed because of them.

I'm a lucky mama - a lucky, overwhelmed, fairly unorganized, slightly frazzled, but happy mama.

Now, if I can just get through the pregnancy.

The Saturday before school started, we had a big "cabin breakfast" to celebrate the end of summer and kick-off the new school year.  We had pancakes with whipped cream and syrup, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, cantaloupe and watermelon.  A completely decadent breakfast - and called "cabin breakfast" because the only time we ever eat it, is when we're at the cabin. However, this was an important morning and worthy of an indulgent meal.

I have sat down to update this blog so many times over the past few months, but somehow found it too overwhelming to tackle.  We had such a great summer and did so many fun things together as a family and at some point I will have to document them all - or at least a few.  But for now, let me start with something simple - something to ease myself back into blogging.

One of the best things about the beginning of summer, is that we always get to celebrate Abby's birthday during those first few days.  It seems like the perfect way to kick-off summer - plus it gives us a chance to celebrate one of our favorite girls.

This year, Abby's birthday was on a Sunday which interfered with her typical birthday celebration: sushi for lunch, a mani/pedi, and a little birthday shopping, and dinner with the family at a restaurant of her choice.  But even with her birthday falling on a Sunday, it was still a pretty great day.

It started off with all of us singing heartfelt rendition of "Happy Birthday" to wake her up, followed by a yummy breakfast of French Toast and the opening of presents.  The first few presents she opened were small little craft items for her "Never Be Bored" box, a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips (her favorite food on earth) and an i-tunes card.  But there in the middle of the table was a large box, wrapped in green paper.  Abby knew it looked promising and she waited until the end to open it.


Inside the large box was tons of tissue paper that Abby dug through looking for whatever was in that box.  Finally, at the bottom of the box, she found an envelope and inside the envelope was something she had been wanting and asking about and dreaming about for nearly four years: a ticket to see the musical "Wicked." When she saw that ticket, her eyes lit up and she ran over and threw her arms around me.  She was so excited.  Andrew, of course, quickly joked that this was the first and only time that Wickedness ever brought happiness.  I am so excited to go see "Wicked" with her.  It's just too bad we have to wait until August to see it.
That night, we went to Oma's and Grandpa's for dinner.  We had birthday cake for dessert and then following dinner and dessert, Oma planned a "Summer Kick-Off Fiesta" - the perfect celebration for Abby's birthday.  The "kick-off" started with a treasure hunt around the neighborhood.  The prizes included things that everyone needs for summer: bubbles, sparklers, candy and at the end, each grandchild got a towel with his or her name embroidered on it.
Once the treasure hunt was done, it was time to do a piñata in the front yard.  This piñata was huge and stuffed with more candy than 20 kids could eat in an entire summer.  Each of the grandkids took a turn trying to hit that piñata, but even then, it took awhile to bring it down.  When it finally fell, there was a shower of candy and the chaos that ensued was impressive.  

Summer vacation was so slow in coming this year.  The weather in Utah turned summer-like sometime in April and for nearly six weeks, it felt like it was time to be done with school.

One of my favorite memories from when I was a little girl, was when my grandpa would invite our family to go out on his boat fishing.  As a young girl, I didn't really have the patience required for fishing, but I was willing to put in my time as I knew in the end, my patience would be rewarded.  It wasn't with a prize winning catch after hours of fishing.  Oh no.  My reward was that at the end of the day, my grandpa would drive his boat as fast as it would go across around the reservoir.

I still remember sitting on his boat with my orange life vest resting heavily on my shoulders, catching my breath every time we hit a little wake or every time he made a sharp turn.  I can almost feel the wind in my hair, the spray in my face and the butterfies in my stomach that made those trips on Grandpa's boat such a treat.

I think it was from those early boating trips, that I made the decision that someday I wanted to own a boat.  When I was a teenager, I loved church activities that involved boats and I was so grateful to have friends whose parents owned boats.  I looked forward to trips to Bear Lake and Deer Creek Reservoir and although I was never a great water-skier or wake-boarder, I was more than happy just to go along for a ride on the boat.

All through my childhood and teenage years, I begged my dad to get us a boat.  Unfortunately, my dad was not a fan of boats and he assured me that he would never buy our family a boat.  He may or may not have said something like, "It would be much easier for me to just flush my money down the toilet."  Luckily, however, after several years of begging and pleading from me and all my siblings, my dad finally agreed to buy a boat.  The next day he came home with a 3-person canoe.  As much as my dad loved it, it really wasn't what any of the rest of us had in mind.


Since marrying Andrew, I have often brought up the idea of buying a boat.  A few years ago, we went to Hebgen Lake with my aunt, uncle, some cousins and their kids, and our three oldest children.  It was a great week spent on the water, watching our kids squeal their heads off as Steve pulled them behind the boat.  Andrew and I both renewed our relationship with wake-boarding and slalom water skiing.  It was such a great way to spend time together as our little family and with my cousins.  I  came home from Hebgen determined that someday we would own a boat.

Well, finally this past spring, the stars aligned and my wish came true.  Somehow, just in casual conversation with friends, we found two other families who were interested in buying a boat.  None of us, has any real "boat experience" so the idea of sharing the costs and the responsibility was very appealing.  And so, two days after making the decision to do it, we were the proud and somewhat nervous owners of a boat.  The timing of it all just happened to coincide with Andrew"s birthday, so in my mind, I will always be able to say that I bought Andrew a boat for his 38th birthday!  


It isn't often that childhood dreams come true - and mine may have been a frivolous one - but as my family cruises across the water in our boat, with the mist blowing up around us, I can almost feel the weight of that orange life jacket on my shoulders and I can definitely feel the butterflies in my tummy I first felt so long ago.  

Five years ago right now, I was pregnant with Peter and we were looking for a house.  We had moved from Minnesota ten months before and had been renting our friend's house.  But now, they were coming home and we needed to find a place to live.

Every morning, one of the first things I would do, was search the MLS to see if there were new homes on the market.  I would peruse pictures of interiors, study maps to see exactly where the homes were located, and check out the schools associated with the homes I saw.  Occasionally, I would find a house I liked and I would make Andrew do a drive-by.  Even less frequently, I would find a house that seemed ideal enough that we would actually go walk through it.

This was a time of sincere fasting and prayer.  I believe that Heavenly Father cares where we live and where we raise our children and I needed his guidance as we made this huge decision.  And so, five years ago this week, after a colossal melt-down (during which I cried and wailed that I didn't know where we were going to live and Abby encouraged me not to think about the house, but to "just think about candy, lots and lots of candy") a woman in our ward called and said they were selling their house.  She asked if I would like to come see if we were interested in buying it.

Andrew was at work, so I took the three kids and went over by myself to see the house.  I sent the kids out to play in the backyard while I walked through the house.  I would give anything to go back in time and know what I was thinking as I walked through the house. The house has the most ridiculous and nonfunctional floor plan.  It was decorated in a style somewhere between Little House on the Prairie and Holly Hobby and everything that had been done to the house, was done on the cheap.  It only has three bedrooms - including the master bedroom - so it's not really big enough for a growing family.  I honestly don't know what I was thinking as I walked through it.

All I know, is that after walking through the house, I went out in the back yard and I saw my three little babies playing happily on an old apple tree.  I looked at the big yard and the expanse of grass and that wonderful old tree, and I felt the feeling I had been longing for: we were finally home.  I knew this was where our family belonged.

Over the years since we moved into this house, I have spent more time than I should complaining about  all the things that drive me crazy about our home.  My list of complaints is long and detailed and there isn't an easy solution for any of them.  However, the one thing that hasn't changed in the five years we've lived here, is the love and attachment we all have for that apple tree.


One of the first things Andrew did after we moved in, was hang a rope swing from it's branches.  Countless hours have been spent whiling away summer afternoons playing on that rope swing.  The kids also love climbing the branches of the tree, finding a perfect perch to read or daydream. Whenever friends come over, the first thing they want to do is climb the tree and swing on the rope swing.  We have hosted birthday parties in the shade of that dear old tree the tree and have photographed family and friends in its branches.



Since moving into this house nearly five years ago, we have found reasons to love living here.  We love our street and our neighbors who have become some of our dearest friends.  We love the kids who live on this street and are such good friends to our children.  We love the old trees and the windy road and the view of the mountains.  We love watching the sunsets from our front porch and we love gentle breeze that blows down from the canyon.

I still believe Heavenly Father cares where we live.  I know he has a plan for each of us and I believe he puts us where he needs us to bless the lives of others.  I believe he cares who our neighbors are and where we raise our children.  I don't think he cares about floor plans or marble countertops or even having enough bedrooms for our children, but I know that he wants what's best for our family.

That's why I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for our old apple tree.  It was seeing my children climb in its branches the first time that drew me to this home where we have now put down roots of our own.

Last week our family was inundated with performances.  In fact, Lucy was the only one not involved in the performing arts.

Peter had his preschool performance on Tuesday.  For months, he had been singing his songs as he went through the house, and when the day came, he was so excited for us to see him perform.  When I woke him up in the morning and told him we needed to get ready for Kindermusik, he said he wasn't sure if we had time for Kindermusik because we had his performance that night  - at 8:00.  I assured him we could do both.