St. Patrick's Day 2016

I woke up to curl Sophie's hair before taking her to her early morning seminary class and found her dressed from head to toe in green.

"Are you going to make gold coins this year like you always do?" My St. Patrick's Day loving daughter asked. When she and Ian were tiny, I started a tradition of dipping mini Ritz cheese sandwich crackers in melted butterscotch chips to give to the kids from the Leperchaun.

After I returned from taking Sophie to school, I poured bowls of cereal for Isaac and Katie. "I wonder if the Leperchaun turned the milk green?" Katie asked with excitement.

Usually I put a dot of green food coloring in the bottom of their cereal bowls before I pour the cereal, but today I forgot. I grabbed a gallon of milk that was 1/4 full from the fridge and quickly poured some green food coloring in. Just as I was finishing my secret mission, Katie popped her head around the corner and looked at me. I fumbled as I rushed to put the food coloring away and give the milk a shake to mix it.

I brought the green milk in to pour it on their cereal. "Look the Leperchaun did turn the milk green!"

After a few minutes, Katie said, "Mom, I saw you put the food coloring in the milk."

"You caught me--pretending to be the Leperchaun is a game I like to play with you," I said. Then I watched her face very closely to see if she was disappointed or if the wheels of understanding would start spinning in motion. The night Ian caught me being the tooth fairy, he was so upset. As he was taking it in, he paused and said, "Wait, does this mean the Easter Bunny is you too? Oh, no . . . Don't tell me . . . Santa!" And, just like that all of the magic was gone for him. But, he was getting pretty old. He was in the 5th grade already. I was sad for him but I was also thinking, "Hon. You gotta know."

Katie is still young at six. "Are you sad?" I asked. "No," she said. "Did you already know?" I asked. "I think I thought it, but I didn't think about it all the way before now," she said.

Crossing my fingers she doesn't think about it too hard. Happy St. Patty's Day!

Sweet 15

Written Saturday, March 5

Friday, I picked Sophie up from school and took her to lunch at "World Famous Pho" on 25th Street. That is some tasty Vietnamese noodle soup.

As we waited for our food, I grabbed her hand across the table, looked meaningfully into her eyes and said, "Fifteen years ago today, I was as miserable as I have ever been in my entire life." Then, we both started laughing really hard.

I always become sentimental the day before my kids' birthdays, thinking about their births. I usually tell them all the sappy stuff without any details of the misery--like the first time I touched their soft skin or the first time I looked into their eyes. I always tell Sophie the story about how, just a few hours after she was born, she missed me when we sent her to the nursery in the middle of the night and how I thought it was the sweetest thing that a tiny brand new baby could already know her momma from someone else.

I continued -- "I went to the hospital to have you, but my contractions stopped and they sent me home. I was scheduled to be induced on March 6, but the nurses took pity on me and told me I could come back at 5 a.m. the next morning (March 5). It felt like the best news ever! The next day was one of the happiest days of my life! Thank you for making me a mom. Happy Birthday eve!"

After lunch, I took her to her voice lesson and after that we went to see Zootopia. Katie and my mom came to the movie too. Brian was at an overnight scout camp with Ian and Isaac. After the movie, my mom announced that she was making a crab dinner and fudge (the fudge at Sophie's request in lieu of birthday cake) on Sunday in honor of Sophie's birthday.

I turned to Sophie and said, "Wow, this is turning out to be your best birthday ever!" She said, "No, the best birthday was when I turned 12 and dad bought me flowers."

That was a good birthday. She had a big boy/girl party with karaoke.

This year, she asked us to register her for a teen writer's conference in Provo that happened to take place on her birthday (Saturday). Of course, we had to say "yes" even though it meant me driving her and a friend down early in the morning and Brian driving back to Provo to pick her up at night (almost 300 miles of driving with two trips down and back).

Doesn't a writing conference sound so grown up?

I can't believe that we can go get her driver permit any day and she can get behind the wheel of a car. What!? And, she just got hired to work at Lagoon this summer.

Driving, summer job, writer conference. Where does the time go?

Happy day for her--there are flowers from her dad waiting to surprise her when she gets home.

When she was just a tiny girl of five or less, I had a brilliant idea to promise her a "Sweet 16" birthday party if she would not kiss a boy before she turned 16. I described to her a big party and it seemed like such a good idea at the time, to preserve that little girl's sweet innocence.

Little did I know she would be the queen of birthday parties. She always makes elaborate plans. I need to come up with something bigger and better for next year.

And now I record the unabridged story of Sophie's birth (with an emphasis on the miserable parts):

Fifteen years and one day ago, I was so swollen. I had gained 70-pounds and I would lose 30 of it before I checked out of the hospital after giving birth. So. Much. Puffiness. I had high blood pressure (pre-eclampsia) and pre-term labor. I had been dilated to a four for a whole month, thinking I would have my baby any day; having hours of contractions every night that always stopped right before they got down to two-minutes apart.

There have only been a couple of times in my life when I have been as completely spent physically, mentally and emotionally as I was that day.

It was a Sunday and at the end of the day, when the contractions started, I told Brian to take me to the hospital. He said "no" because I was being ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. I was scheduled to be induced Tuesday morning. It seems so irrational now, but in that moment I was filled with desperation and I begged him to take me.

They admitted me and hooked me up to the monitor to confirm that I was indeed in labor! But, an hour later the contractions stopped. I resigned myself. I was defeated once again by those elusive contractions. I was so beaten down. Brian said, "don't worry, it's just one more day." The nurses could read the look on my face I'm sure. Even though they sent me home that night, they promised that I could come back at 5 a.m. to be induced. It was only one day earlier than planned, but I could not have been more thrilled. I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. Isn't that silly? One day.

We have a video that Brian took of me the next morning as we walked into the hospital. I am grinning from ear to swollen ear. I couldn't wipe that huge sincere smile from my face for anything. It was truly one of the happiest most incredible days of my life.

16-hours of labor, 2.5 hours of pushing, a vacuum and a team of nurses compressing hard on my stomach at the last second to force her shoulders out plus one post delivery emergency D&C and a multitude of stitches later, I had a precious baby in my arms. Despite the trauma of the delivery, it was more joyous than my wildest expectations. So much bigger than anything in my life up until that point. Being a mom is the best. Yesterday, when I reflected on that huge amount of misery I felt getting this beautiful girl here, I thought, "It really is a miracle that we had three more kids!"

I am so glad we did. I love these guys more than anything.