Alderbrook Park

For a final summer fling a bunch of us went to Alderbrook Park. It's a private park about 30 min. from us that has it all. Fields for games and horse shoe pits, volleyball, a train, bouncy houses, a pirate ship, paddle boats, mini golf, a pool and play equipment. Lizzy's favorite part though, was the pink lemonade fountains.

We had a great time playing and I can't wait to go back. When Daniel took them over to the paddle boats Devon ripped off his shirt and I yelled, "Keep your shirt on!" I think that was the first time I said that and meant it literally.

Fun Stuff

The Martins came to visit and help with the "Harvest"as we call it. This year had been so warm though that most of our produce was already gone. Even the blackberries were mostly done. So we had some fun playing at Klineline Pond. I had been wanting to go down there for some time, and this was a great day to do it. It was topping 100 degrees, splashing was definitely needed.
It was a fun visit.

Growing Up

We noticed that the kids were almost equally spaced in height. It is amazing to realize just how fast they are growing up. September started bringing with it the first days of school. 
Charles will start next month as his school is being remodeled. We are excited to see what they learn this year.

After school we went to a friend's house for a Smart Cookie party. We brought cookies and played. It was fun and we're planing on making it an annual thing.

Blessings

We were privileged to have Emily blessed on August 2nd. It was fun having both sets of grand parents and the Martins over to help us celebrate.
 
Emily did great, I had to nurse her almost up until it was time for the blessing, but we made it! Her blessing was very sweet and I look forward to seeing her claim the blessings that have been pronounced upon her head.

Here are the brothers, looking so cute!

Daily Dose of Devon

                This morning, to appease the masses who were fighting over a single blanket (even though we have at least two dozen blankets of various size easily accessible to all) I made flapjacks. We had just settled in to commence the meal, when it was discovered that Devon had once again in his possession the coveted binky.  Charles promptly ripped it from his mouth and threw it across the living room.  Devon dissolved under the table in a heap and we continued our meal, occasionally avoiding Devon as he attacked our toes. 

                After the meal was finished I left to nurse Emily as her patience had at last run out. While everyone had stepped away from the table to return to various activities, Devon decided now was the time to act! He got himself a flapjack and proceeded to get it ready. That’s when he noticed the butter dish. Ahh, the butter dish, I don’t know what it is about this unassuming piece of crockery that attracts children so powerfully, but each child has had at least one episode with the dish. Today the pull of the butter was too strong for Devon and he proceeded to cover his plate with the remains of the butter, about a third of a cup. Next he realized that any artist needs another color to make their masterpiece complete so he assessed his options and turned to his old friend milk.

                He dumped his cup of milk cheerfully over his plate and mixed with abandon. It was at this moment that he noticed the floor. The poor neglected floor, how much better it would look with a golden gloss. He began to help the floor regain its perky color with copious amounts of butter.  It was dutifully filled into every nook and cranny. The joys of hard wood floors.  At this point he decided to share his masterpiece, he came to get me.

                I was nursing in the dim light of my bedroom so when Devon entered and proudly displayed his hands I could not readily determine what they were coated with. I laid Emily down and followed him out of the room and soon took in the full impact of Devon’s masterpiece. As I can be extremely eloquent when startled, I exclaimed, “Is that butter?” To which my proud two-year old nodded enthusiastically.  “Oh, is that all butter?” Like I said, eloquent. So I commenced cleaning it up and sent Devon to change his clothes since they too burnished the golden goodness.  Just a regular morning at the Bartholomews.

Last Essay

Here is my final essay for my class. I chose to write about how Daniel and I got together. Actually, it was his idea for my essay. I said to him, "I have to write a personal narrative for at least 2 pages, what am I going to do?" He suggested writing about our 2 dates. "I'm sure that you can write 2 pages on that!" He was right.

Well I Never!

            “Never say never!” was a common motto growing up.  I was fed on the stories of life going awry due to some uncalculated utterance that began, “I will never…” The more emphatic the declaration, the more certain the event will occur.  Like the time my mother said, “I will never raise my kids in Utah!” We consequently spent seven years in Happy Valley. Growing up with this knowledge should have forestalled me from any such mishap in my own life. Alas, I am a poor listener.

            Over the years many small occurrences seemed to prove the point, but somehow those evidences did not prevent me from declaring with certainty when we moved to Bremerton, a Navy town, that I would never date a Navy guy! I had never lived in a military town and was not prepared for the onslaught of stories about the horrors of military life. When confronted with the overwhelming evidence against marrying into the military, I declared with fervor, “I will never date a Navy guy!”

            As you can imagine, the local singles ward was chock full of Navy guys. This limits dating partners when over half are automatically crossed off the list. Still, there were plenty of non-military fellows to date and there was nothing wrong with being friends with military personnel.  I went on many excursions and to hundreds of dances with an array of military and non-military guys.

            Then the fateful day arrived. I got a call from Daniel asking me out. I knew he was military, but one date couldn’t hurt right? I did not want to be rude, so I acquiesced. Daniel showed up at my house in a silver 1979 Datsun 280z that was showing its age. He had affectionately named it Norman, after his grandfather, who had also served in the Navy.  My driveway was quite steep and he had forgotten to put on the emergency brake. As he walked me to the car, in full gentlemanly stature, he seated me in the passenger side and shut the door just as the car began rolling down the driveway.  I scrambled to pull the brake while Daniel ran and jumped over the hood of the car like a stunt man from The Dukes of Hazzard. He got in and started Norman up just as it hit the street. Clearly my before mentioned declaration was getting the best of me.

            After the excitement of a runaway car wore off and we were headed on the highway I asked him where we were going. He said, “I heard about this park with a waterfall.” It sounded lovely. Unfortunately, he had only a vague idea of where said “park” was located and consequently, after about 20 minutes, we were hopelessly lost.  Now, I am geographically challenged, so getting lost is no uncommon occurrence in my life. I have learned to enjoy it. Daniel, on the other hand, was a navigator in the Navy. Getting lost was not something he did. We drove aimlessly for a while before stopping at a city park. Jackson and Lund, it was called. Perhaps it was a sign, since Daniel was stationed on the Jackson at the time.  So we pulled in and started to walk as aimlessly as we drove, but as we walked we talked.

            We talked about where we grew up, what we liked to do, etc. We walked and talked for about an hour through thickly forested trees. I found it most pleasant, but from Daniel’s point of view, it was not going so well. He dropped me off and that was that. We still saw each other at church and at various activities, but we did not go on another date until a year later.

             My family has a tradition where everyone 18 and older would get a date and go to dinner and then to the Valentine’s dance held by the stake. I love this tradition. There is nothing quite as fun for me, then eating good food with my family and friends and then dancing. I was all excited to go when my date called the day before the dance to tell me he was stuck in Seattle and would not be able to make it. I was devastated! This would be my first year missing it (except for when I was on my mission). Knowing that Daniel might know who was not already going in the ward I called him up for advice. He could tell right away that I was upset. I asked him if he knew of anyone I could take last minute to the dance.

             “Well, you could take me.” He replied.

            “You want to go?” I asked incredulously.  He assured me that he was planning on going anyway, just stag; at least this way he would have a date. It was agreed.  He sent me a huge floral arrangement, which completely floored me.  The dinner was wonderful and the dance was quite fun. Daniel loves to dance so we had a blast. We lindy hopped and slow danced the night away.  In the end I knew what I had to do. Nine years and four kids later, marrying Daniel is still the best decision I ever made. 

            In the end having to live out my “Never” became the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, so maybe it’s just as well I never listened to the advice, “Never say Never!”

Introducing Emily

So it finally happened! The day came and I was ready! I went to my pre-op appointment on Saturday and was informed that the hospital had a few new procedures, the biggest one was I had to bathe the night before the surgery and use this special soap they provided me, and use these special cleansing wipes on my belly. They were like those car wash shams only pre-soaped.  Then I had to use a fresh towel and put fresh pj's on and fresh sheets on the bed. Daniel also had to shower with the special soap. Then I had to do it all over again in the morning. I guess I looked filthy to the hospital staff.
  Showers completed, we headed off to our appointment with destiny! Everything was going smoothly, since it was the awful hour of 5 AM parking was amazing. We got in right away, the only down side was passing every fountain, each one gleaming and mocking my thirst. Yet I remained strong! So we got to the room and we began the totally exciting game of... Waiting for the Doctor! I don't really understand why we have to be there so early, it seems to me that the entire prep process takes about 30 minutes. The nurse fitted me with an IV after a failed attempt on one arm. Then surprise, surprise, I was washed by the antiseptic wipes again! After a little shaving, and a awful medicine I had to drink, I was ready. Daniel received his stellar paper jumpsuit, complete with head and feet covers. So styling!
  My Doctor,Robyn Lew, who I highly recommend, got stuck in traffic so we started a tad late. Daniel put his paper suit on and  went to a different waiting area. The nurse and I walked to the OR, my first time walking into an operating room. It was a little surreal, I got up on the table and prepared myself to, "Embrace my inner Shrimp." As the anesthetist called it. If you have never had an epidural or a spinal before than this won't make much sense. In order to put the needle in the right spot you have to hunch over while simultaneously pushing out your lower spine. Like a shrimp. I think that this is the most uncomfortable part of the procedure, for me anyway. Hunching over a  full belly that fights back, while trying to push out your lower back, it's hard to do. Especially when they ask you to relax while doing it! But I digress. I was given the star shrimp award. Huzzah!
  After a successful spinal, I was laid on the table and then up went the screen and the real fun began in earnest. Daniel was finally let into the room. Here we are all ready to meet our new addition.

  The weird thing about a c-section is that you can still feel a little of what they are doing, just not the pain. So after a bit of pulling and tugging, I finally heard Emily's cries. Boy can she wail! I think that she'll fit right in with our crew. Here she is!

  Here she has a firm grip on Daddy.

  She was born at 8:08 AM and she weighed 7 lbs 7 oz. She was 19 1/2 inches long and just perfect!

I finally got to "hold" her. 

Here we are together.

  After a bit of sewing I was rolled into the recovery room for two hours and could finally have some ice chips! Later the whole crew came by to visit their new sibling. 

Here's Dr Lew with Little Emily.

   I love that my bed was called S-502 Stryker.If I ever write a sci-fi novel this will be the main character's spaceship!

 Here I am finally!

   Here is Grandma!