Lactating Parents Club

Yes.  This is another post about breast-feeding.  I'm sorry but when it's your only special talent, you end up talking about it (and displaying it in public) too much.  I produce whole milk.  I produce fat and happy babies - all without so much as a thought.  What can I say?  It just comes naturally.  And it's special.

This month, the lactating club around my house had a new member join up.  Jace thought driving to Casa Grande to pick up 16 day old calves would be a good idea.  I tried telling him that he would not be a good substitute for the mama cows udders.  I tried telling him how much work it would be - he would be way in over his head!  He knows nothing about proper head cradling positions, proper latching techniques, colic, ensuring adequate hydration, and analyzing the newborn poop.

But all my warnings fell on deaf, naive ears.  He could not think of anything else.  Talk of anything else.  He hauled those poor orphan calves up the mountain and started his 2X a day feedings.  Soon those cows took over his mornings, his evenings, his thoughts and prayers, and my kitchen.  There was milk substitute to be mixed, mathematical formulas converting pints to gallons and then back to quarts to be figured, bottles and nipples to be washed and sanitized.

It wasn't until they starting dropping like flies that he admitted to his fellow club member that maybe 16 calves at once was just a few too many.  After all those feedings and stall cleanings.  After all that Pepto bismol and all the antibiotic shots, those cows were leaving this life faster than Jace could count.  Jace was saddened and confused.   After 2 weeks, we he went from 16 calves to 4 calves.  That's right.  4.  And I think it's worth mentioning that all 4 of the surviving, prancing calves are little girl calves.  I want to say that I think Jace learned his lesson but he I can hear him now talking in the other room about ordering just Holstein calves next time maybe they are a heartier breed.

I am going to tell him again tonight that the lesson to be learned here is this:  Unless you are born with the equipment attached - Leave the nursing of newborns to the mothers.  Go on home and eat dinner with your other 4 (real) children.

Love you Jace.  Maybe we could think of another club we could join together?  Book club?  Our kids our the cutest club? Chess?  Let me know.  I'll let you be club president.

Saturday Morning

It wasn't the first time I have been stranded, with 3 children. Far from it. I've sat on the highway between Heber and Show Low (Heber and Snowflake, Heber and Holbrook, Heber and Mesa, ect.) multiply times.

I did not even cuss when the '78 Ford that we just lovingly dumped $1,500.00 into decided to take a break on the side of the road.

I wasn't even missing our 4-wheeler. The one Jace traded for this new yellow beast of ours. The 4-wheeler that never wanted to take a break, especially when I was towing all 3 of my children. The 4-wheeler that was probably speeding thru the forest on that very morning, carrying the new owner - laughing all the way. I didn't even think bad thoughts about him.

We just patiently waited for our rescue party from Show Low to retrieve us.

We tried not to make eye contact with passing motorists. We did not want to give the impression that this was a road side emergency. Nah, this is just how the Baum's roll.

Our only mechanic in the car couldn't read english, so we patiently waited some more.

Grandma Mikey and the Flake girls laughed at the sight of us, then loaded us into the truck headed for home.

Jace called me after work to let me know he found the abandoned Ford on the side of the road. He also let me know that when the key was put back into the ignition and then turned, the engined hummed to life and then purred like a kitten all the way back to Heber.

I might have said a cuss word then.

P.S. Don't be cussing when the Baum's abandon you on the side of the road called Privacy Lane. Leave me your email address. This is one high fashion ride you may not want to miss.

Halloween Romance

Jace pretended to fall down to the ground last night on our date. I didn't really appreciate it. His fall came mid my mad dash in a dark and haunted corn field. Growling, crouching creatures were yipping at our legs and a large, chain saw carrying man was on our heels.

"Oh, Jace! Jace, Get up! Jace are you OK?"

He giggled and grinned like a 12 year old.

It wasn't real funny at the time. Just kind of.

Jace and Jordy said Jessica and I screamed like children. Jessica and I said they used us as body shields.

I clung too tight to Jace's middle. My heart raced. We screamed real loud. Jace got "a handful" of the slow walking patron in front of us.

As you can see it was a very romantic night. Though I can think of someone else I'd rather share a bathroom with, I can't think of one other person I'd rather help up and scream with in a haunted corn maze.

Jace.... Will you take me next year? I'll bring my brave heart and pretend that I've been snatched by a monster hiding in the corn. You will scream and rescue me. And then we will laugh and laugh. It will be Halloween romance all over again.

Dang Day

The wind is blowing. Don't even go outside. It is the kind of wind that takes fingers and feet off in car doors and sends trash cans a mile down the street for the owner to retreive, only to return home with bruised legs, teeth and hair full of dirt, and newly carmexed lips feeling like sticky sandpaper.

So my 2nd cell phone in a week is missing. Don't try and call me today. If you recall, Ezra threw my old cell phone in a sink of water. My mother-in-law was kind enough to let me borrow her 1998 model. Jace and I's recent trip to the valley produced a newer model. It was pretty and green, had an entire keyboard, a lovely camera, and awesome speakers.

When you are fortunate enough to have a small child sleep thru the night you really shouldn't complain...but I'm going to. The small child wakes at 5:30 AM every morning. I'm kind enough to lift him out of his crib and hand him some juice, then he is on his own until 7am (I'm being honest here). Well, this morning's lone adventures included finding my new pretty cell phone and then finding the nearest water source. I'm praying it was the bathtub and not the toilet. 18 month old children know how to turn on the bath water, right? And then turn it off it again? That's what I thought too. Well, the last sighting of the cell phone was on the kitchen counter - battery removed - drying out. I now have a pretty green battery and no pretty green cell phone. I guess I'm off to the cell phone store for the 8th time this month to have my '98 model reactivated. Wish me luck...this wind could take me all the way to Holbrook. Call me later.

Ezra quit messing around and tell me where my cell phone is.

Wait a second.....Is this what she's been yelling about....green?....new?...makes lots of noises?

Yep, this has got to be it. Looks exactly like what I was using this morning to take pictures of the inside of the toilet.

So the cell phone search has officially been called off. Me and Mace could smile about that. The DANG thing still won't turn on. And by the way, our home phone has yet to be hooked up in our rental. Please email any urgent requests between now and tomorrow. Wait?....Jace (my non-emailing/internet/texting friend), you are going to have to put up a smoke flare....we'll come looking for you.

A Bad Omen

During the last 4 months of construction of the most recent house and after the sale of our Bellybutton house, we rented an old house in Snowflake across from Pioneer Park. The house had no a/c, no working windows, and 1 ceiling fan for pregnant Lindsay. Not a good combo. It should have been a happy day when we had to move out and into our brand new home.....but I don't remember it that way. I remember Jace taking all of his strong, English speaking employees with him to another plumbing project and leaving me with 140 lb. Sergio Medina to finish moving out, cleaning the house, repairs, raking hay, shoveling poop, ect. Medina is a somewhat of a legend at White Mountain Plumbing. I would bet that his name comes up at least once a day. He was 40, thought he was every women's dream come true and Jace's father ("Yace, that not the right way"). He is gone back to his homeland (Livin' la Vida Loca forever) but that day he was my "helper" (or so Jace said). It was about the time the property manager got there that I noticed that I didn't have my wedding ring on. I searched my pockets, the house and the poop/hay pile. I was so mad at Jace for leaving me with Sergio all day to clean up his "farm" that I decided I didn't care if I lost the sticking thing. To make a long story a little shorter, Jace thought Sergio swiped it and then lo and behold it appeared in the dryer a week later.?!

Well, today I had the opportunity of spending the day with another illegal alien (her name is Sandra and I love her and all Mexicans) cleaning the empty house. It went well. We worked until 3pm. I had to go to a Relief Society activity. It was there that I looked down and what do you know? The ring is still on but the diamond is GONE. And I just got to say....this cleaning day didn't bring on hard feeling towards Jace like the previous one but I still don't think I'm going to comb the house for the diamond tomorrow. I'm going with: it's a bad omen. I told Jace it's a sign...he should stop moving me around if he wants his marriage to stay intact. I think I'll take the ring to a jeweler and have them remove the empty prongs and wear just the band. It will be hip. And I figure one day in my wealthy future, I'll run across a beautiful piece of jewelery, and remind Jace- "You owe me one".



This is what happens on cleaning day when you load all 3 kids in the car to go and you're not really ready to go and the oldest child finds the digital camera.

Yes, that is dried ice cream on his seat and dried boogers under his nose. We have been living in the car lately.
I told you Noah can't help sqeezing little people's hands. Ezra is such a good sport (as long as the blue blanket is in sight or reach).
I think she has a bright future in the photography field. What do you think?

I think I'm ready to talk about it.

With heavy heart I post my sad story of one bored father and his two innocent victims, my sons. One week ago today, I went to my usual Relief Society presidency meeting and left Jace in charge of supervising and bathing all of his children. I know he is crippled right now but I thought for sure he could handle it, seeing as how Macy usually ends up doing all the supervising of her brothers and father. What I came home to, my brain just could not comprehend or compute. Jace's hair - gone. Noah's beautiful hair - a lot shorter than when I left. Ezra's hair - completely gone. My heart and stomach were sick. My tears and tantrum followed soon after.

Jace has done this before to Noah when he was 18 months old. I cried for 3 days. Noah was born with a taupe of beautiful, thick, black hair. It was devastating then and devastating now. But not near as devastating as looking at my Ezra's bald head. I know Noah's will grow back - Fast. Ezra on the other hand has always had hair but it has been fine, straight, thin hair. It was never much to look at, I thought, until I saw him without it. Boy, I have been missing it. I have decided that there is a reason Heavenly Father has blessed all my children with a head of hair at birth and beyond.....none of them have been blessed with small round heads.

For the 1st couple days after I was threatening to shave my head too, so Ezra and I could hide at home until it grew back. I also had a hard time looking at my poor boy. I would find myself talking to his chest. Crazy? Yea. Time to fill that prescription of Zoloft that's been sitting in my junk drawer? Maybe. But maybe I have some sort of insecurity about hair. My hair and the hair of my offspring. As 1 of 6 girls, I was "blessed," "cursed," whatever with curly, kinky, frizzy, flat, whatever hair. I watched my sisters get their straight, nice hair cut and wondered why I never got a hair cut. FYI: My 1st hair cut was at age 8 and only because my Mother accidentally vacuumed up my hair while I was attempting a head stand. My hair just didn't grow. I would see other girls on the school bus at the end of the day with pony tails still nicely in place and wonder what in the world was wrong with mine. Most of my hair would be no longer nicely in place. I'm still coming to terms with my hair at the age of 26. I try carefully to watch what I say about my hair in front of my Macy. She has inherited my hair or my "curse." Her hair is adorable and I hope that she comes to terms with it sooner in life than what I did. But as I mentioned on my blog before, she already wishes for, talks about, and notices everyone else's "princess" hair. Oh, my heart goes out to the girl.

As for my Ezra, his new du is growing on me. I'm able to look at his head now when we meet and speak. As for my Jace, I'm speaking to him now too. The hair clippers were removed from the house and disposed of. Jace no longer has rights to cut, shave, comb, trim, ect. any hair in the Baum household. He never did have those rights. You have to give birth to earn those rights. The Moral?.....Life will go on. Ezra's hair will grow back. I will have a good hair day this week. Jace will probably make another irrational decision this week (his words, not mine) and I will forgive him, love him, and move on......again.....but not until I remind him of how Ezra's 1st hair cut broke my heart.

Can I get an AMEN?

I should start by saying that being married is one of the hardest things I've ever done on most days...well OK....some days. Meeting and marrying Jace is still one of the best choices I've ever made. I thought life was going to be funner than crap. He is one funny guy and always looking for adventure. Well, as we have acquired children, houses, jobs, you know -responsibilities - I have become "less fun" and Jace is still having a ball where ever he goes. It's really not fair but one of his traits I admire. One such example of this happened on Saturday. With a home inspection happening on Monday, we knew that we had to pull the plug at the bottom of the pond, so we can show how the irrigation system works. Guess who gets volunteered? Well, it wasn't the one with a cast on his leg. The pond is cold, about 5 ft. deep, dirty, and did I mention cold? I slowly enter with wrench in hand. Takes me about 5 minutes to find the drain and then another 15 minutes to find that there is no way I'm strong enough to work off the cap. All the while, my teeth are chattering, I'm trying to keep my head above water, and Jace and Noah are sitting sideline watching. Noah kept asking Jace, "Why do you want Mom to drown?"....good question Noah. I'm yelling curse words and calling Jace names that should never be directed at that fine of a man. He just keeps saying, "We'll be laughing about this tonight." I marched out of the pond and marched inside...MAD. Jace had to hop back to the house, tape a garbage bag around the cast and dive in. He did get the cap off and we did both eventually stop shivering. And if you promise not to tell Jace....I have laughed about it but not that same night and not in front of him. Oh, the things I've done for that man. But maybe this why marriage is so important and essential to us all. Jace not only helps me grow with every new adventure but he teaches me things about myself that I might not have ever learned on my own. For instance, I'm not the gal to call to fix your pond and I might need to work on my bad language. But I also recognize that Jace sacrifices for my happiness on a daily basis. We are going to get this marriage thing figured out but HALLELUJAH we have an eternity to do it.