I Get it Now. Sorry, Mom.

I am a second child.  Not only am I a second child, I am a middle child.  A poor, neglected middle child.  My whole life, I wanted to be sure that I filled out the second baby's baby book.  Took just as many pictures.  Did everything as close to the same as I did with the first one.  I'm not yet 20 weeks pregnant with my second, and am already failing in my quest.  I don't even own a pregnancy book, yet with Sofia, I had each page filled out to the minute.  I haven't taken a single belly picture yet.  Now, for a normal pregnant woman, this would be no big deal.  For me, however?  I took a belly picture nearly every week starting at 12 weeks with Sofia.  When pregnant with Sofia, I practically had the crib set up by 20 weeks.  I don't even know if we have a place to put a crib with this baby, and have bought nothing save a cute Christmas outfit I found on clearance back in January.  We sort of, maybe, kind of, have a possible list of maybe-names, but definitely have not even come close to deciding first or middle name yet.  For boy or girl.  I don't sing to this baby like I did to Sofia (i know, sick.  I was that pregnant person), don't talk to it as much as I did to Sofia.  I do read and sing to Baby's big sister, so he/she sort of gets the benefit, right?
Not that we aren't as excited as we were with Sofia.  We're thrilled.  Every little kick is like a celebration, and watching my belly get bigger gives us all such a thrill.  We find out in one week if Chickadee is a boy or a girl,  get to see his/her face looking like an actual baby and not a blob.  I am so blessed and honored to be able to do this again, to be mom to another amazing human being.  It's just that, we've done this before.  Everything isn't new.  We tried for so long and so hard to get pregnant with a baby that stuck, and it felt like every new thing with that pregnancy was a prize that I never thought I'd be able to experience.  This time, knock on wood, it just worked.  We didn't have any losses between Sofia and Chickadee (thank goodness).  Life keeps moving quickly, with a preschooler taking energy, the farm, school, work, sometimes that baby just gets forgotten.  Then, I'll feel a little wiggle in my belly, and get a huge grin remembering the miracle that is inside me right now.
So, Mom, I get it.  Second babies, just like you've always said, are just as loved as their siblings, it is just harder to do all the tangible things that show it.  I swear, though, I am going to take as many pictures of this baby.  I am.  I am going to read stories to just my little one, going to give him/her the time alone with just Mom.  Somehow, some way.  Chickadee needs it, and so do I.

Gaining weeks

Well, our wee chickadee has been very busy!  After the last ultrasound, I expected it to measure just past 8 weeks.  Well, the tech surprised us, measuring it at 9.  Then, I got a call from the doctor, saying it actually measured 9 weeks 5 days, moving our due date up to August 19!  That was a week and a half ago, so we are now 11 weeks along, and looking forward to an actual OB visit!  I have an intake appointment on Tuesday, and will beg for a quick doppler listen.  Hearing that amazing flutter will help me immensely.

Along with my elation, I am terrified.  We willingly are creating another human being?  To be responsible for?  What were we thinking?  It's hard to imagine how Chickadee will affect our family dynamic, how Sofia will react, if I'll be able to find the time to give them both the attention they deserve.  I know people do it every day, but that doesn't make me any less nervous.  As a second child myself, I really want to make sure that this little one gets the same love and devotion Sofia did (and does).  I want to make sure to take just as many pictures, write down just as many details, remember just as many dates, actually fill out a second baby book.  I'm so excited for our family, but so anxious at the same time.

She Makes me Smile

Just a quick entry so that I remember this moment...

Sofia has on a pink, sparkly tutu on top of her pink cargo pants, and a green owl shirt.  Tucked inside the top of the tutu is a cloth Dora doll.  Sofia is jumping around the living room, and I just heard her say, "the mama kangaroo is Sofia, and the baby kangaroo is Dora."

Man, she makes me smile.

9 weeks

We are proudly in posession of a grainy black and white photo of what could convincingly be made out to be the Loch Ness Monster, or Big Foot, or perhaps that other sock that is always missing.  But rest assured, it is the nine week ultrasound of our beautiful baby, and let me tell you, it is perfect.  And not at all monster-like.

In order to get a more accurate due date, and because my doctor is nice to me, we had another ultrasound today, to measure that baby again, and make sure it is growing appropriately.  This little guy or girl has been busy; before, we couldn't quite differentiate the body that housed the beautiful flicker from the lining of the gestational sac, but now, the perfect flicker is directly in the center of the sac with a nine-week baby surrounding it.  The ultrasound isn't all that sensitive, and viewing it live, we could hardly tell north from south, but we saw a perfect heart, beating at 175 beats per minute.  I've been having a tiny bit of spotting, and we pinpointed the source of the blood; a tiny subchorionic bleed, which the tech reassures me is quite normal and not at all harmful.  I will, of course, have to consult Dr. Google before letting my anxieties lie, but I'm not all that concerned.

I still can't believe it is there.

Since Julio was so excited when we first found out, he spilled the beans to Sofia that very morning.  She was certain that when we got home today, they would have taken the baby out, and she could hold her baby sister.  Sofia will officially think that pregnancy lasts an eternity.  We are also going to have to have a good, long conversation with her if we find out at 20 weeks that this child is a boy.  She is certain, CERTAIN, I tell you, that she will have a baby sister.  She might be right.  We tend to make girls in this family.

Anyway, I promise I will blog more often, and perhaps about more things than all-pregnancy-all-the-time, but for today, that's all I can think about.

A New Beginning

We haven't offically shared the news yet, and probably won't for awhile, but I'm pretty sure the only people who still check this blog already know (hi Johanna and Missy!), and I want to keep a journal for myself.
We are expecting a baby!  I got a positive pregnancy test on Wednesday, December 15, but didn't tell anybody, not even Julio.  It was several days before I expected my period, and I just didn't believe it.  On Friday, I took another test, this one a dark positive.   I crawled back in bed to tell Julio, and just beamed about my news.  Because of all the miscarriages, and because we supplemented progesterone with Sofia, my new doctor had me come in for a progesterone test.  Sofia and I trudged in on a snowy Saturday, and had my blood drawn at the inpatient lab.  The tech was so friendly, and gave Sofia three (!) princess stickers.  She thought she won the lottery.  On Monday morning, I got a call from my doctor, that the progeterone level was low.  Not dangerously low, but lower than they like to see.  Normal varies from 9-47 in the first trimester, though they like to see it above 20, and my level was 9.7.  Not terrible for just 4 weeks, but not great either.  I was prescribed an oral progesterone pill, and have been taking it twice a day. We scheduled an ultrasound for January 3, which seemed years away.   I had myself convinced that things could not be okay, that I wouldn't get so lucky again to have a healthy pregnancy.
Today, this morning, we saw another beautiful flicker, the best kind of flicker there is.  Hard to see the actual baby, but the heart was beating at 131 beats per minute, with a gestational sac and yolk sac the correct size.  Nothing out of the ordinary!  Woo Hoo!
Nothing is for certain, though, and I'm still reserved.  Things could still go wrong.  But this was an important first step.  With a lot of luck, we could be welcoming a new little one at the end of August!  Yikes!

Giving Thanks

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  One of the best holidays of the year, in my opinion.  No pressure, not too much fuss, just food, family, and football.  A day set aside in the middle of the week during the yuckiest part of the weather year to celebrate the blessings in your life.  To celebrate family.  To remember loved ones lost.  To be together.  Just be.  I love having a holiday in between Halloween and Christmas, to hold off the Christmas music and center our thoughts on gratitude and the blessings we already have, before the onslaught of greed that can often become Christmas.  Thanksgiving helps us remember what is really important, and brings those memories into the Christmas season.
This Thanksgiving, and every day, I am thankful for my family.  I am blessed with a fantastic husband, who loves me, loves our daughter, and is a wonderful person.  I am thankful for my daughter, who brings me more joy each and every day.  I am thankful for my big sister, who though she lives far away, is always on the other end of the phone.  I am thankful for her daughter, my beautiful niece, who taught me what it is to be an auntie, and her little Jomando Dos, who thankfully, is healthy and perfect.  I'm thankful for my little sister, who adores my daughter and has the best sense of humor.  I'm thankful for my mom, whose cherry face and positive attitude affect my life daily.  I am thankful for my dad, for making me laugh, for always being there to pick me up, for just being there.
I'm thankful for Julio's family, a group of people with so much love we will never feel alone, no matter how far away we live.  I'm thankful for phones and the internet to keep us in touch, and for airplanes to bring us closer.  I love you all.
I'm thankful for incredible friends, whose company I never tire of, who make me laugh and lend me shoulders to lean on.  Bonus points that my best friends also happen to be Sofia's best friends.
This Thanksgiving, I remember Grandpa Ron, Grandma and Grandpa Lines, and Aunt Suey.  People who are part of me and I'll never stop loving.
Though there are always parts of life that I'd like to change, though we are always trying to move forward in our lives, it is always good to look back and remember the great stuff that is with you right now.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

Summertime

As each leaf falls and we edge closer to late fall than early fall, I am greeted each morning to, "Summertime!  Summertime!"
This confused me for several mornings, until I realized that a certain young lady thinks that summertime actually means 'morning time.'  I have no idea where she made the connection, but even as the weather cools, the trees lose their leaves and she is no longer allowed to wear sleeveless play dresses, I have yet to convince Sofia that summertime actually does not equal morning.
Usually, I am excited for summer's arrival, in this case, I wish I could delay it a bit.  She sure does get up early.

Pink

Though I have always loved dolls of all sorts, I am in no way a girly-girl.  Most days, I hardly put on anything nicer than yoga pants and a t-shirt, and it is a fancy occasion indeed when I wear make-up.  When I found out we were having a girl, I almost didn't to tell people until after she was born so that she wouldn't end up clothed in pure pink.  I wanted to be entirely gender neutral, empower my daughter to choose her own path, as well as allow my (hypothetical) son to choose his as well.
Newborn Sofia wore lots of colors.  Honest.  Mostly pink.  In varying shades.
Since she could first reach her arms out to choose a toy, Sofia has loved baby dolls.  She couldn't yet stand on her own two feet, but she was rocking and nursing and wrapping in a blanket her baby.
She also loves to play with trains, cars, and dinosaurs.
We live on a farm.  She's seen life from beginning to end, played in her share of dirt, planted, weeded and harvested a garden.
Yet, you can't change biology and social constructs that easily.  She received a pink tutu for her birthday after having to pry one off of her at a toy store.  She has visited Daddy at work, gone to the library, the bank, and the grocery store in that tutu.  She'd wear it to bed if we let her.  I can only coax her out of it if I have her Princess jammies in hand.
We went to the zoo the other day.  We had a great time.  We saw a lion roar, watched a giraffe run up close and personal, counted ducks and waved at a swimming river otter.  She found the camouflaged mountain lion, watched the snow monkeys and climbed on the jungle gym.  At the zoo gift shop on the way out, she found the toy she just had to have, and has been bringing it everywhere with her since.
Meet Sally the Sea Otter.

In technicolor.

The worst part is, I think she's kinda cute.

Three

Somehow, some way, my beautiful baby celebrated her third birthday.

I can hardly believe that the baby I cradled and nursed is now a preschool aged child, no longer a toddler, with a personality all her own.  She's THREE, people.  I mean, I have memories from when I was three.  I'd better watch what I say from now on.

Dear Sofia, 

You delight me.  It is such fun to watch you create stories with your dolls and toys, and make everything into a game.  You create elaborate rules to games that you invent, then expect us to know them all.  You adore painting and choose your colors quite carefully.  You get so excited about things that you literally jump up and down with joy, and cannot control the volume of your voice.  The joy and excitement just spills from your little body.  I love every minute of it.  

You frustrate me.  You have a whine that knows the exact way to get under my skin.   You have to be reminded, sometimes, to use your manners, and to ask without whining.  You pitch a fit when you don't get your own way, putting on a big show, with big, fat crocodile tears, and the most inventive fake cry I've ever heard, even though you know very well it won't get you your way.  

You fill my heart with love.  Your hugs are so tight, your kisses so precious.  You have the most beautiful smile that reaches all the way to your eyes, though you only use it when truly happy, which might be the best part of all (though it makes it difficult to get a picture of).  You are quite picky about who you show that love to and when, which, though disappointing sometimes for an aunt or grandparent, or even parent when a kiss is withheld, is actually a good thing.  I'll be grateful for it when you are sixteen.  

You continue to change and grow so much.  Things you loved last summer (the swing) scare you now.  You are very cautious about new things, new places, new people.  You hide behind my legs and pretend not to hear when a stranger (which may actually be a relative) says hello.  Sometimes, you will even tell them, "I'm a little shy."  Once you warm up, though, you are friends forever.  You create games with certain people, that you expect to be played the same way, over and over again.  Aunt Nancy has a tail, Tia Juli and Tia Jeli smell Stella's diaper, Aunt Sarah has a jungle under the afghan in her room, and you chase Grandpa.

You are so smart.  You know all your abc's, including the sound for each letter, and can tell us what letter nearly any word starts with.  You can count to twenty (and are starting to be able to do the twenties, too) in English and Spanish.  You know about camouflage and hibernation and metamorphosis.  You love to watch, observe and learn.  

You love to dress up, choosing to wear dresses nearly every day, and recently, your ballerina tutu that you got for your birthday.  Always.  You still prefer to be naked, however, and will strip down whenever we aren't looking.

You are a fantastic eater.  You love veggies and healthy foods.  Once, you had a brownie in your hand, and saw that I was processing broccoli.  You dropped the brownie, and begged me for a piece of raw broccoli.  Anytime, dear.  Though, I don't think the situation would be the same had you been eating ice cream.  Peppers, tomatoes, and olives are your favorites, though you love it all.  

You love playing with other kids.  Even though you are shy, painfully so, with adults, you are instantly friends with any child you meet.  In Venezuela, you hung tightly to Natasha and Nathalia, and loved playing with the cousins your age.  You love Jay and Ella, and are always looking for a playmate. I promise we'll get you into school soon.  You need other kids your own age.

You love Sesame Street and Dora.  You play out elaborate schemes of shows you've seen or books you've heard. Speaking of books, they are your favorite.  You would read stories all day if an adult would sit with you that long.  You love the Berenstain Bears, and have really gotten into any book by Mo Willems, including Knuffle Bunny.

You bring us so much joy, Sofia Carmen.  Thanks for a terrific three years.  Each day is precious, and I'm so honored to be your mama. Truly.  Even the days I want to send you to the moon.  

Love,

Mama

To Oz and back again

Somehow days, weeks, months continue to pass by, and before I even realized that the blossoms have all given way to leaves, those same leaves are beginning to turn crimson, yellow, orange and the summer is over.
During my absence, we trekked to Venezuela.  How wonderful to see, live and in person, all the people we love and miss so dearly on Julio's side of the family.  It is difficult, however.  Sofia doesn't know them.  The last time she saw them, she was seven months old.  She's different now.  She's not the gummy-smiled baby who loves any arms that are open to hug her.  She has opinions and expectations, and is more than a little shy.  Over all, everyone did well, most especially Sofia, who learned to love her relatives and surroundings, tried speaking the different language, and made many friends along the way.  I could see the hurt in Julio's eyes, though, when Sofia didn't want to love on someone she just met, even though that person loves her very much.
She still talks about the trip; the people she met, the places we went and things we did.  I'm working on uploading pictures to Shutterfly to create photo books to experience it over and over again.
There's nothing better than having a fantastic vacation, and nothing better than coming home to your very own bed.

A Brighter (Storm-filled) Day

Okay, so as I knew while writing my last entry, though could not fathom in my conscious thought, being put on the waiting list is not the end of the world.  There are other plans, other options, other paths my life my take.  I will go on.  It still hurt, but it is not the end of me.

My 15-year-old cousin was in a terrible car wreck, head-on highway speed, a week and a half ago.  Miraculously, all three occupants of the car are alive, and more miraculously, Lori is home and walking and talking.  She's got a long road ahead of her, but she is a living miracle.  She is a fantastic runner, and earned a varsity letter and attended state last year, her first in track.  She was looking forward to this year's cross country team with excitement.  She's now been told that she can't run for six months.  A small worry when you've just survived something everyone thought should have killed you, but disappointing just the same.  Instead of being upset, this amazing girl is planning to volunteer with the team, and go with them to meets to cheer them on.  A true team player, a person whose Plan with a capital p was torn to shreds, yet still sees life as a journey to be enjoyed.

I'm searching job sites, combing hospital openings, seeking out possible apprenticeships.  I've applied for several jobs and looked into other avenues to become a nurse.  I might be down, but I'm not out.  I'm too good for that.  Life is a journey meant to be enjoyed.

Wanted: A New Plan

Warning:  this entry is rated R due to offensive language.  Please avert eyes if that sort of thing offends you.

I've been waiting for June 30 for a long time, ever since my phone interview with the nursing school a month and a half ago.  The 30th came a day early over here, and...not good.  

I ran to the mailbox like I do every day lately, just to check.  Today, and envelope!  From UW-Oshkosh!  Yay!  Then, fuck.  This envelope is skinny.  That's not good.  Tear open to flap, skim the skimpy little letter with a desperate hope that this was just the first of two or something.  No such luck.  "Thank you so much for applying...the program is highly competitive, blah blah blabbity blah.  Waiting list." 

So that's that.  The fucking waiting list.  Accepted applicants have until July 9 to secure their spot.  After that, they might offer entry to someone on the waiting list.  Only, how many are on this sucky-ass waiting list?  How many usually get accepted after being on the waiting list?  Does being on the waiting list give me any sort of benefit for future attempts, or is basically a 'it's not you, it's me thing, where everybody knows that "waiting list"  is code for NOT FUCKING ACCEPTED, stop wasting your time and your hope.'

What now?  

This has been my Plan with a capital P.  This was going to save me and my family from poverty, give my life meaning, propel me forward.  I had a Plan.

Now I'm floundering again.  I'm almost 30 for crissake, and I still am applying to and getting rejected from jobs where the only requirement is 'high school graduate.'  

I spent a lot of time this afternoon feeling sorry for myself, and am currently drowning my sorrows in a glass of red wine.  Tomorrow, I have to start anew.  Apply for jobs.  Update the resume.  Search.

What do I do now?  What the fuck do I do now?

Brilliant

Today, Sofia and I created a masterpiece.  It is my mom's birthday tomorrow, and I thought it would be fun for Sofia to paint a terra cotta pot for her.  She loves to paint, Mom loves plants, perfect solution.
And it was.  The pot looks fabulous.  Sofia carefully chose just the right colors and painted a beautiful pot. It looks great.  We even put two little handprints, which Sofie thought was just the greatest.  And then we put a plant inside.   You know, the kind with dirt and water.  Water.
Now the pot is sticky.  It still looks great, but you can. not. touch. the. pot.  Turns out, the washable kids paint that is so great because it never stains her clothes, making clean-up a breeze also washes off pretty well after it's been dried.  On a terra cotta pot.  I think instead of making a present for Grandma, we created a mess.
Brilliant.

A sibling, someday

I know this may seem counterintuitive based on my recent complaining and complete lack of patience, but I am so ready to have another baby.

and I know.  I KNOW.  We aren't ready.  The timing isn't right.  I need to finish school first, and I'm excited for that part.  I just wish I didn't have to wait.

I see pictures of siblings, and I tear up inside.  I watch a kid Sofie's age love on their younger brother or sister, I hear stories of kids playing together, fighting together, growing up together and I feel like Sofia's missing out. I feel that I am missing out.  I am missing those souls that belong in our family that haven't yet arrived.

I'm afraid that not having a sibling, not having to share, having four adults dote on her at all times is making Sofia spoiled.  She's the ultimate only child.  Yet, is that a bad thing?  Two of my best friends are only children, and they are the most thoughtful, generous, loving, interesting, wonderful people I know.  They have both said that part of them at different points in their lives has wished that they'd had a brother or sister.  Who among us, though, hasn't at one point wondered what it would be like if we had less siblings?  Or no siblings?

I wonder about my future child often.  I think of names, I wonder how he or she will be different from Sofia.  Will they be similar in some ways? What characteristics will make the new baby unique?  I wonder about the age difference.  Will five or six years be too many?  Will Sofia and he/she be close?  Will they still be able to play together?

And I wonder, terrified, if there will be another baby. Will we have the same problems we had before?  Will we try and try and have our hearts ripped out over and over again, never to be blessed with another miracle?  That nagging miscarriage fear is always there.  Am I strong enough to lose three more babies?

My family is not complete, and I yearn for those souls yet to come.  I have to trust that they'll come when their time is right.

Worth it

and then, after a day when I felt like my daughter would hate me forever, she wraps her precious little arms around my neck, gives me a loud smooch, and says, "Mommy, you're my best friend."

and you are mine, Sofie.

Crabby Days

It's not been a very good few days around here.

I'm not sure which came first, but the effect is the same.  Sofia is crabby.  Whiney.  Negative.  Whiney.  Grouchy.  Whiney.  Sad.  Did I mention whiney?
I have zero patience.  Everything makes me crazy.  I yell.  I pout.  I try to keep from crying and count to ten.  I try to remember that she's two, that we're both fighting a cold, that this is completely normal.  And then I yell again.

I hate the mother I'm becoming, at least right now.  I can't seem to get anything done, and the things I am able to do, nothing goes right.  I hate when I lose my temper, when my patience is thin and I'm always just a step away from the end of my rope.

What of this will she remember?  I've always thought of myself as a good mom, a patient mom, a mom that doesn't yell, that thinks of fun things to do, that loves her child more than life itself and would never want to send her to the moon, even for the day.  But lately, when my first attempts at fixing the situation don't work, my next attempts are less than effective.  Getting frustrated is guaranteed not the perk my daughter out of her bad mood.

Being a stay-at-home mom is tough.  Having been both a work-outside the home mom and a stay at home mom, both present their own challenges.  When I worked full-time, being with Sofia was my respite, my me time.  I was over-joyed just to be with her, and to do the things that need doing at home.  Since I hadn't been with her all day, all I wanted to do was play toys, do fun things, and enjoy my girl.  It was incredibly difficult to leave each morning, especially the mornings when Sofia hadn't woken up yet.  I hated that I was missing her life, that she was growing up and I wasn't a part of most of her day-to-days.  It was so hard to get everything done that a mom needs to do at home, and remaining productive at work was difficult.  My heart and mind were elsewhere.

Now, I get to be home with my girl.  I see her almost every waking moment, and I do cherish it.  There is always lots to get done around the house and at the farm, and I'm never bored.  I love having the time with Sofia, and I know she likes having me around.  However, because I am  here all day, I sometimes miss the moments of playing and imagining because I'm busy with dishes or lambs or vacuuming or everything else that needs to get done.  Because I don't get a respite, my temper gets short.  My crabby days get multiplied because I don't have an outlet away from Sofia.

So, today I made more of an effort to do fun things together.  We created an on-line book, found Sesame Street coloring pages, and tried to do a craft together.  For about five minutes, it was great.  Then, the whining, crying, say-no-so-everything behavior started.  Again.  And I feel like a failure.

So, we'll count to ten, read stories, and just make it through today.  Perhaps tomorrow will be better.

Return of the Sun

Well, the sun has made its reappearance, and we couldn't be happier.  Julio and I snuck out with Sofia to the lake this morning, said hello to a family of geese and went down the slide more times than I can count.
We do have a little diva in the making, which I am trying so hard to nip in the bud.  She is constantly bossing everybody around.  Close the windows. I want Mommy to drive.  I don't want you to wear your glasses.  No, that's my mommy.
Life isn't all about you, little chick.  I know we've made it seem that way since the minute you were born, because we do love you more than life itself and would actually do anything for you and want to give you every single thing you want.  Really, we do.  Thing is, though, that not everybody else does.  People are going to tell you no.  You will be rejected, probably teased, and stepped on a little bit.  You are going to have rainy days when you wanted sun.  Things just don't always go your way.  And while I want you to fight for what is right and stand up for yourself, there are times you are just going to have to go with the flow.  And like the waterfall that you couldn't turn off because it was too loud, you cannot control where that flow flows.  Life's wild like that.  Unfortunately, it isn't all about you.

March and May

I think March and May definitely got confused this month.  While in March, we donned shorts, waded in lakes and counted our blessings in degrees, so far this May, rain gear and snow boots have been the attire.  The very day lambing began, so did the onslaught of cold, rain and wind.  And snow.  Baby lambs do not like cold, rain, and wind.  Or snow.
We're up to our eyeballs in cold baby lambs, and in our haste to protect them from the oncoming storm, we moved a momma and new baby that were bonded well in the field up into the barn, only to find the baby electrocuted by the fencer.  Lesson learned and fencer switched off, but too late.  I seriously gave the compusling baby CPR, and then cried.  Its poor mother has sat, unmoved by its little stiff body, in the rain.
But, today is a new day, though just as blustery.  Another mom had more babies than she can feed, and the poor, lamb-less mama is the proud adoptive mother of one of the other babies.
Last evening, Sofia spent five hours with Grandpa and me out in the fields, trying to sort out babies and mamas and bring everyone to dry and safety.  She was such a good girl, patient and quiet, calm and observant.  We had to assist several moms give birth, and she asked, calmly, "Did that lambie die?" Thankfully, that time, I got to respond that no, that lamb made it.  She's up and nursing on her mama.
We're hoping the weather dries up a bit, and adds a few ticks on the thermometer.  Life would be easier on us all.
I had the second interview for nursing school, and I feel like it went really well.  Now, I just wait.  I can't apply for financial aid until I am formally accepted, and they don't have to make their final decisions until June 30.  Meanwhile, I cross my fingers, make plans for the fall, and finish the one prerequisite I have left to complete.
And feed baby lambs.

Nursing School application continues

Interview number one.  Check.

Must have done okay, because I have interview number two tomorrow.  Am scared.  Am nervous.  How to talk without stumbling over umms and ahhs?

Must go prepare answers and compulsively read everything about this program to show that I am, indeed, truly ready.

Yikes.

Last year of twenty-something...

So, I turned 29. Twenty-nine.  2-9.  The last birthday that starts with twenty.

How?

Turns out, very happily.  Julio made me the most delicious chocolate cake I've even eaten in my life.  Seriously.  Like Sarah said, we can't even call it cake.  That would just make all the other cakes feel bad.  Also, to-die-for lamb chops on the grill.  I don't even want to think about all the calories I consumed on Saturday, only to remember that IT WAS WORTH IT.  We had a fantastic time playing Hoopla and just being together.  I am skipping into my thirtieth year, happy that I know my path and that I am where I belong.

In farm news, we have movement on the turkey front.  Not only did two hens lay an entire nest, they are both currently setting.  If all goes well, we should have poults in approximately 24 days!  We also have an incubator up and running for the turkey eggs we gathered before allowing the hens to build their nests.  We will put the eggs in tomorrow, and in 28 days, if we're lucky, we should have another batch of poults.  I'm so excited!  You should have seen how giddy I was the day I first found a turkey egg in their hut.  Seriously.

The trees are starting to blossom; the flower crab apple tree burst open its blooms this morning, while the cherry and apple trees are moving closer to full-on flowering.  A little early, but a beautiful sight to behold.