I got a call from Linnea's doctor this morning with the results of an ultrasound we had done last week. I was born with hip dysplasia, and had wear a corrective brace for nine months as an infant. Because hip dysplasia is a genetic defect, we have been careful to screen our children for it. However, since Iris showed no sign of the defect, I assumed Linnea would be exempt from my genes as well. Unfortunately, this is not the case. My happy, carefree baby was found to have a mild case. The doctor assured me over the phone that this was nothing to worry about, it just meant a few x-rays, and the vast majority of babies who have this are fine with no treatment; it just works itself out on its own. I had a worse case than Linnea does, and, as Josh reminded me, I'm a runner. So everything should be fine and dandy.
But then, why do I hurt so much? I've been on the verge of tears all day, have completely lost my appetite (something that I've found happens when my kids are sick or I'm worried about their health), and can't seem to get it off of my mind. I think there is a kind of hurt that you can experience as a mom that no one else can understand. Even if you know everything is going to be okay, there is a deep internal pang that overrides everything, and almost feels as though a giant lump is taking the place of all of your internal organs. Yes, it's that physical of a feeling. You find that all you want for your kids is for them to be happy, for no hardship to stand in their way, whether or not it would be good for them. I know the logic--life has trials and we learn from them, so my kids need them, too. But that's not how I feel. You can try all you like to create a safe place where your children will feel nothing but happiness, and life and the world intrude. I suppose all we can do is equip them to deal well with life, to make the best out of every situation. Perhaps this is more a learning experience for me than anything. I just wish learning wasn't so hard.

Projects Forever Undone

I have carefully chosen fabric for a summer outfit for Linnea.
And one for Iris.
And fresh peaches waiting to be made into some sort of culinary treat.
And a box of freshly picked tomatoes and peppers that I still haven't decided how to use.
And a sweater that I've been knitting for 4 years now that was going to be for a friend, then for Iris, now for Linnea, and may not even be ready for her.
And a stack of books about a foot high, borrowed and recently purchased, all of which I swear I'm going to read next.
And a novel that I am working on.
And too much homemade yogurt to be consumed in the allotted time, needing another purpose.
And photography books that I need to research.
And many other things that I'm sure I'm forgetting now, but will haunt me when I remember them.
Does it ever stop? Do I ever say "no" to the accumulation of projects? Do I ever refuse a craft or creation that sounds intriguing? Of course not! I am Supermom! Hear me roar.
However, the other part of the question is this: Do I ever actually get any of it done?
This summer has been better than most in respect to my creative processes. I have written a whole chapter in my book as well as explored other ideas, I have *gasp* used my entire collection of fresh fruit to make new and interesting foods without letting (hardly) any go to waste, I have even helped Josh get our business going. But the list goes on. And I keep adding to it.
I think it's some sort of addiction. If I always have projects and places where I am needed, I will never outlive my usefulness, right? But instead of feeling this way, I usually simply end up feeling overwhelmed and frustrated with myself for not being a better housekeeper, mom, writer, cook, creator. I constantly think, "if only I had more time." But the strange thing is, I remember thinking that when I only hand Iris. And when I didn't have kids. And even when I didn't have a job. I think it's a constant part of my personality to overload my days and always wish for more time.
So, I suppose the moral of the story is to do as much as I can enjoy doing, and not get upset over the things that fall through the cracks. The most important thing about this time is that I can watch my beautiful girls grow up, not sew them an outfit they will never remember wearing! This time is short, and I'm working on focusing my efforts toward improving their quality of life and building great memories. I suppose that's why my list will truly forever remain undone!

Growly Bear

If you are wondering why I am posting so often all of a sudden, it's for two reasons. First of all, I told you I would. =) Secondly, I've agreed to a Write Fifteen Minutes A Day challenge hosted by Laurie Halse Anderson, and when it's this late by the time I get around to it, I don't really want to work on my WIP. So you, dear readers, get to hear my rants. =)
I thought I would dedicate this post to my beautiful Linnea. Not that I want to exclude Iris, but she maintained control of the blog for a year and a half, so it's time for her to share the spotlight. I may have mentioned before how much more interactive Linnea is becoming. This is most evident in her pre-crawling efforts. That's right, I said pre-crawling. A four-month-old. How is it that I seem to get the strong, active ones? I knew she had begun to move around her crib a lot at night, especially after she learned to roll over. You know how the doctors tell you constantly to put your baby on their back to sleep? I'd like them to come to my house and tell me how it's done. Neither of my children has slept on their back since they were three months old. It doesn't matter how many times I roll her onto her back, Linnea immediately pops around to her more preferred position. And then she crawls. Or scoots. Or whatever you want to call pushing with her back feet and pulling with her arms. She can't get her belly up yet (and with as much milk as she's been drinking lately, it's no wonder!), but she does all she can to move around to whatever she wants. The other day I watched her progress from her playmat to the carpet and back again in a period of about 30 minutes. I'm in for trouble with the two of them!
Linnea has also become quite a chatterbox. Though Iris now talks nonstop, I don't remember her being quite so talkative at this stage. I wonder what that means for my future. Hmmm. But Linnea doesn't only resort to cooing and laughing (she has the most infectious laugh you can imagine!), she now growls. Like a bear. She makes better bear and lion sounds than Iris herself! These aren't angry growls, by any means, but rather happy ones. It is hilarious, though, to be looking into the happy, contented face of my young baby and hearing a low, gutteral growl emerge.
I always worried about having two. I had so many insecurities about loving and enjoying another as much as I love and enjoy Iris. But even though I'm not a baby person, it's somehow different when you have your own. It's crazy, but I'm having the time of my life!

Fair Time!

Today we took our first family trip to the fair. After talking about taking Iris to the state fair, with a complete lack of enthusiasm from both Josh and I (feeling guilty all the while because we should, of course, want to take her), Josh drove by the Benton County fairgrounds one day to find that they were setting up for the county fair. I don't know if I've ever actually been to a county fair. I've dropped off 4-H projects, but never, to my knowledge, stayed for the experience. I always believed county fairs to be a place of livestock, crafts, and complete boredom. However, I was either wrong, or our county is just fantastic. I now wonder why we ever even considered going to the state fair. Here, you have all of the animals, rides, food, and even rodeo (it wouldn't be Oregon without it!) that the state fair offers, but on a smaller scale. And it's even close to home! As a parent of young kids, this makes it especially appealing.
We decided to introduce Iris to the fun and excitement of fair rides. They had it all--the carousel, the giant slide, the plastic hot-air balloons that get three feet off of the ground. However, my fun-loving, never-scared-of-anything go-getter decided 2/3 of the way into the carousel that she was done for the day. At least it was long enough for a picture.

Linnea did quite well despite the temperatures in the 90's and the complete lack of any naps. But all the heat and overtiredness got to her eventually, and she slept--through the bells and whistles and shrieking kids, she slept. Though she woke up as soon as we put her in peace and quiet and coolness of the car. Go figure.

Iris did appreciate the animals, though (there was even an exhibit with reptiles, a giant tortoise, and a lion cub), and Josh and I took advantage of the nearness of the fair to home. After the kids were in bed, we called some friends over to watch them and headed back to ride a few rides ourselves. All in all, though, it was a lot of fun, and I think, for a few years at least, we'll stay on the small scale.