View from the Prairie Box

I’ve survived a crazy weekend, one full of obligations and fun. Friday evening saw a large group of Zion ladies at The Leadership Center in Aurora, Nebraska, for our annual Women’s Retreat. It was this same evening that I learned that “extrovert” doesn’t mean that people cannot drain you of every ounce of energy in your being! The combination of work responsibilities, mommy responsibilities and multitudes of friends exhausted me and I wondered how I’d finish out my busy weekend! But one night of fairly good sleep (only fair because Livia decided to chat it up at 3am in our hotel room) gave me a reprieve and I woke up to enjoy the rest of the retreat Saturday morning. By the way, Pam Benton was our speaker and I enjoyed her immensely. Between her wise words and the night away, I felt refreshed and encouraged.

Saturday night was a family wedding out at The Columns in Pioneers Park. After six years of marriage I am still amazed that another family welcomes me with open arms. I love being a Tredway and it’s great to be wholeheartedly included in family festivities. Congrats to Megan & Marc on their nuptials! (And nice work to Anne and her quartet! You sounded wonderful!) The reception was in the Apothecary building in the Haymarket — awesome location.

Sunday morning the weekend adventures continued as fall Sunday School classes began for Zion kids. We handed out balloons to all the little ones in another practice of I’m-an-extrovert-but-this-drains-me activity. All our volunteers were warned to NOT give away untied balloons (helium-suckers beware!) and to NOT give balloons away to kids who hadn’t yet been to church. I could just imagine Pastor Stu preaching amidst bouquets of yellow, green and blue balls! The kids at our church are completely adorable and I felt like a very cool person for providing them with something as wonderful as a balloon. Who knew a round, colorful piece of rubber containing gases could be so fun?

The weekend was rounded out by a family dinner celebrating Chelsea’s 21st birthday. Happy birthday, Bean! It floors me that Chels could be 21… How did I (and Jeremy) get to be so old? I remember her being a little 14 year old at youth group. Next thing you know I’ll be pulling out my bifocals to read my mail. Sigh…

Today is my Monday breather. And now that I’ve fulfilled all blog duties, I think I’ll go take a nap.

Too bad she doesn’t appreciate Snoopy bandaids!

Yesterday Livia and I picked up Jeremy from work and visited Dr. Brabec for Livia’s four-month checkup. It’s a unique thing, visiting your child’s doctor. I have seen family doctors, dentists, endocrinologists, chiropractors, orthopedists and ENTs over the years and now even a rheumatologist. I’ve been around the block, so to speak, when it comes to visiting doctors, but it all changes when you take your child to one. All of a sudden, you become much more aware of “bedside manner”, much more concerned with growth and development milestones, and much more pained by shots and blood-draws.

I repeat, much more pained by shots and blood-draws.

Okay. So we pretty much cried with her at her two-month checkup.

Yesterday it was just a little bit better. For me at least; I made Jeremy hold her. Laugh and scoff at us soft-hearted parents, if you will, but beware! Someday it will be YOUR baby visiting the pediatrician. YOUR baby being held down for shots. And YOUR heart being wrought with thoughts of How can I be such a cruel parent? This is for her good, isn’t it? Fortunately, Livia calmed down fairly quickly and fell asleep in the car immediately, ouchy thighs replaced by sweet baby dreams. The fun part of the appointment was that our kiddo is growing and developing beautifully! She’s gone from 9lb, 15oz to 12lb, 9oz and from 22.75 inches in length to 25.75 inches. Yup, she’s our long baby; 90–95 percentile in height and only 25–50% in weight.

For now, we’ll continue to parent as we’ve been parenting: feeding her 5 bottles a day, giving her “tummy time”, and playing with her and cuddling her to our hearts’ delight. In a few months we’ll start feeding her solids and our routines will be slightly altered again. At that point she’ll go, once more, for a check-up and, ugh, shots. Maybe then she’ll be glad for bandaids featuring Joe Cool.

Listening: to Sommer Waite’s Pass in Front of Me. Sommer is so talented and creative. Her music fits any mood I have and I’m proud to claim her as a friend. Check out her website and listen to her work.

Pondering: the impact of our television within our family. I know that some folks really despise the tv and think we should do away with it altogether; I’m not one of those people (obviously). However, I won’t tolerate the other side either. Who needs to watch tv 24/7? When the television is turned off the following seems to occur: I read more books, I have more quality time with family and friends, I complete more household chores. And then, when the tv comes back on, I don’t even care what I’ve missed! And yet, I like to catch the morning news and weather (the internet just doesn’t do it for me) and I plan on watching a few favorite programs like Alias and The Amazing Race. Anyone have opinions to share regarding tv? I’d love to hear them if they’re not extreme is one direction or another.

Dear Livia,

Today you are four months old!

You are a child who loves to be engaged in this world. I noticed that you fell asleep while playing on the floor a few minutes ago—a bottle and a bath just wiped you out!—so I picked you up and put you in bed. Did you stay asleep? Oh no. Those few seconds, from floor to crib, offered precious moments for you to take in every bright object and every loud noise around. Though quite sleepy, you craned your neck and straightened your spine to take in your world. You like to stretch out instead of being cuddled, you’d rather lay flat on your back than be pressed up against someone’s neck. You’re the “stretchiest” kid I’ve ever known and you’re the only baby I’ve met who sleeps with her hands behind her head like she’s vacationing in Baby Club Med.

This past month has been full of new developments. First, you found your knees and ankles, then your feet. Just last weekend you even managed to taste the feet on your sleeper; your own toes were centimeters short of your gaping mouth. You discovered the joy of playing with toys and now your play gyms (yes, you are spoiled by having two) offer all sorts of fun. You like to bang the living tar out of the little dangling animals or grasp their legs so tightly that I can almost hear them begging for mercy. Daddy is now “Mr. Funny Man” to you and I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that, yes, sigh, Daddy is much more fun than Mommy. We picked him up for some fine dining at the food court in the mall last week; he loved seeing you in the middle of an otherwise normal workday. I came around the corner to find out what he wanted to drink and he was singing and dancing in the middle of the food court. You and I both laughed out loud at that one!

Last weekend you joined me and a whole team of Aunties for our girls’ weekend at Belmont Lake in Minnesota. You are the first babe to join our fun and I’m quite proud of your positive representation for the world of babies. Together we learned that you can sleep just about anywhere, you can certainly eat anywhere (even in brisk breezes with raindrops falling on your face), and you can play, on your back of course, just about anywhere. I am slowly learning that you are quite durable and that I can, even as a first time mom, be flexible.

We love you tons, my sweet little Boo! (Remember this come Thursday when we’re allowing an unknown nurse lady to stick needles in your sweet baby thighs for your 4 month shots. I’m sure it’s one of many moments where hard things will occur and we’ll all cry together.)

Love you,
Mama

How can it be September already? And where did August go? The calendar says today is September 1 and I’m having a hard time believing it’s true! Perhaps if August repeated itself I’d feel more prepared for the fall.

Being a stay-at-home mom and an ESFJ, there are some days when I run to the computer for conversation and community. Blogs and emails can only provide so much stimulation and I know I’m in trouble when I’m hanging on to every last comment dropped into Blogland. Don’t get me wrong—I love blogging. It’s just that sometimes I have a hard time tuning out others’ voices in order to find my own. Thus begins my self-imposed retreat from blogging. I’m heading out of town shortly and will be delightfully disconnected from the internet. I intend to enjoy every minute of my little unplugged vacation and I vow to try very hard to not wonder about the messages in my overflowing email account.

In the meantime, thanks for making Blogland fun for me. I enjoy reading everyone else’s blogs. I love writing my own. I appreciate all the comments left here. The dialogue from the last post continues&#151it has certainly brought new and mysterious folk out of the woodwork and provoked them to comment. Thanks, all!

The people-pleasing side of me wants to post only happy, congenial, peaceful topics on View from the Prairie Box. To shy away from hot topics, however, goes against my staunchly-held value system and I cannot and will not ignore what I believe to be true. So, here and there you will read blog entries like the one below. This is an election year afterall! One thing I ask is that you write your comments respectfully. I have no qualms deleting entries that are excessively rude. And, when possible, provide a link to back up your comments.

That being said, I’m totally annoyed at how many people are protesting the Republican National Convention in NYC. I’m all for the freedom to protest, I just think it’s creating hazardous conditions, a ticking time bomb, in an already congested city.

One more thing… I refuse to be apologetic for being a Republican. It’s not popular to be conservative these days. Believing that “life begins at conception” and that abortions should never be allowed, saying that marriage is an institution for one man and one woman only, is definitely not smiled upon in most circles. I know many of my friends believe differently, but I’ve had it with trying to tone down my position in order to pacify others. I’m politically conservative with no apologies.

I’ve been wondering why this group in particular should not be allowed to voice their opinions regarding the current political race. Isn’t this America, the land of free speech? If their comments can be proven libelous, only then should they be forced into silence.

(Thanks, Keith. I pulled the link from your blog.)

I used to think adoption was simple: There are baby girls in China that need homes? Let’s go get one!

And then reality set in. Private vs. agency. Domestic vs. international. Open vs. closed. (Good luck trying to do a closed adoption domestically. I doubt too many folks do them anymore.) Paperwork for the lawyers. Paperwork for the social workers. Paperwork for the state. Paperwork for the birthparents, which is probably the toughest paperwork of all. It’s a fairly odd challenge, writing “Dear Birthmom” letters and profiles of yourself. What if birthmom was an athlete? Okay, make sure to write about your soccer days. What if she is a Christian? Alright, include something about your beliefs in Jesus Christ. What if she hates Christians? Uh, let’s not go over the top with the Christ talk. One could really go crazy while filling out all the forms. All I can say is that we heavily relied on faith in God’s providence. If He wanted us to adopt a baby, we knew all the paperwork in the world couldn’t stand in our way.

The truth is that the adoption process doesn’t end once a placement occurs. (Isn’t placement a stark word to describe the incredible joy of being handed your new baby?) Usually you’ll have meetings with your social workers, bills from the lawyers, letters and photos passed to the birthparents, new social security cards and birth certificates to order, insurance to arrange. And someday, meaningful adoption conversations with your little one. The process continues.

Adoption is not simple. But adoption IS wonderful. I could write “wonderful” and all it’s synonyms over and over and over on this blog and still not get across how wonderful it is to love and care for Livia. I’ve decided that having a child is like having a chunk of your heart cut from your chest and placed within another little body. There will always be a piece of me within her. My thoughts will never be centered solely on myself again. Forever there will be a part of me in this child. Wonderful.

I had a very interesting grocery shopping experience at SunMart the other day. SunMart, in my opinion, is notorious for it’s poor produce section… Suffice to say I’ve ended up with mold on strawberries and wilted green onions on too many occasions. Knowing I only needed items like cereal, eggs and bread, I made the quick trip to SunMart.

Walking through the front doors, apparently I caught the eye of this 30 to 40-something dude. And I’m thinking, darn it! Why haven’t I had my wedding rings repaired yet? (I had them cut off when my arthritis was at it’s worst in May.) This guy looked like he had three young wives back home in Turkey or something so I counted it as a cultural thing that he was openly gazing at me. But then he started to follow me. I’d go into an aisle and he’d go into the same one. I’d move on to another section, he’d walk past on his merry grocery shopping way, and then wait! turn immediately around and pretend to look for something on my aisle. Grrr… I’m a survivor of a previous negative shopping experience, one where I was highly intimidated by a much older man, one who didn’t care one iota that I couldn’t have dinner with him because I was MARRIED. So this time I was prepared to tell SunMart dude to bug off boldly if he tried anything. (Girls, don’t ever be intimidated by creepy guys! Be straightforward and rude if needs be.) This is highly anticlimactic. My apologies. SunMart man purchased his groceries and apparently went home without a fourth wife. My aggression was tempered by the Lady in the checkout lane…

This Lady looked like a victim of Auschwitz. Though I’ve had some experience with women with bulimia or anorexia, I have never never never seen someone is this state. She was ahead of me in line, we were separated only by a young mom and her toddler. The rosy-cheeked, chubby, healthy tot accentuated the utterly starved, skeletal being in front of his cart. It was such an odd experience. I kept racking my brain, wondering if somehow her condition was not self-imposed, that perhaps it was a medical condition. Did she have cancer? I don’t think so. Her skin was almost translucent, cheeks drawn tightly over thin, high cheekbones. Her eyes were enormous behind large, round glasses perched upon her bony, pointed nose. Her teeny shoulders were caving in and her old-fashioned clasp purse seemed like much too much weight for her delicate arms. I was horrified. I wanted to do something desperate, like call 911 or some hotline, but that seemed reactionary and ridiculous. I watched her pay for the three items on the conveyor belt, then walk out of the store. My heart still feels heavy with concern for her. I bought my fatty Pop Tarts and called it a day.

Ugh. SunMart. Whatever your ethnic, economic, religious, health background may be, you’re welcome to shop here. Just don’t expect fresh veggies.

This just in…

Livia Tredway has discovered her legs.

The fifteen week old was previously unaware of appendages other than her arms and thus all play was reduced to the reaching and grabbing of toys and the sucking of fingers.

“It’s quite remarkable!” her father exclaimed late yesterday afternoon. Her mother simply stood nearby, watching in awe as Livia kicked toys and held her chunky calfs with her tiny fingers.

This sudden discovery has taken the Tredway household by storm and has succeed to surpass in greatness the previous talents, ear-grabbing and hair-twirling.