Poor Dean

Lately I have been crying

Not just a little…a lot.

You thought Kate Gosselin cried a lot when she got the boot on DWTS-
Nooooo…sorry, I have her beat by a long shot.

I would have to say that during my 7 postpartum phases
I have only experienced the baby blues two or maybe three times.

Nothing severe, just feeling down and weepy and I never know why.

But for some reason these last couple of weeks I have been one big mess

It’s ok to be down as long as you don’t stay down.

Dean’s work gave him a week off when I had the baby.

I don’t know if that was a good thing-

Dean has been a witness to it all.

When Dean went shopping for me and bought baloney instead of turkey lunch meat...
I went to my room and cried.
(I have never in my life bought baloney, how could he not know that? )

When Dean asked me when I was going to cut off my hospital ID bracelets as it was going on three days since I left the hospital...
I went to my room and cried.

When my camera battery died and the light was fading and I still hadn't taken a perfect picture of the new baby...
I went to my room and cried.

While the family was at church-I got down on the floor to play Barbie’s with Quincy; she looked at me and got up and left the room...
I went to my room and cried.

When we left the hospital
I cried...

When my milk came in I cried...

When Dean went back to work I cried...

When my Dad called and asked me how I was doing…I cried

When Brett said “Mom, the baby will be five years old when I go on a mission”… I cried

When the baby was about to turn one week old, I counted down the seconds…then cried

When I saw my double chin in almost every picture of me in the hospital...I cried

When I was the only one awake at night...I cried

When the Relief Society meals stopped coming...I cried

When I realized that Canyon doesn’t fit into newborn diapers anymore...I cried

Dean is a fixer, as most men are.

When I was crying he just wanted to fix it so I would stop the crying.

There was nothing he could fix.

So he just acted nice and mostly found excuses to get out of the house.

("Oh no! looks like we are out of milk again…I’ll Go!")

So my darling Dean –

Just to let you know I am feeling much better.

The sun is out,

the birds are chirping

and I can finally fit into my
“big jeans”.

But just a warning;

This Monday my parents are leaving on a mission for the next year and a half;

I hate goodbye's

And us Neves’ aren’t really known for our composed, unemotional behavior.

So let the crying continue,
 and bring on the tissues!


We Are a Happy Family

                      So...this is what we have been doing around here -

watching our little angel sleep....
he sleeps just like his Dad (mouth wide open) and they both snore.

* by the way - one of the pictures below is NOT of our new baby Canyon -
                                   can you spot which one?
River walks in the door from school and says...
"my room is clean and I hung my backpack up...if I wash my hands, can I hold the baby?"

Brett is whispering good hair mojo to baby Canyon

Quincy testing the baby's gag reflex -
                                                Kal likes to say..."hey buuud" and today just named the baby "Rocket" he also named Dean "Uncle Vern" and me "PillowStar"
Brotherhood bonding moment with Wade and Canyon. Wade seems to get out of chores and homework and trouble by flashing his "ah mom, forget about it" smile.

Doesn't this look heavenly? Dean rarely has a minute to hold the baby.
Lately Quincy has decided that she loves everyone but me.
Especially Dean. She runs to him the minute he gets home. He is worn out.

We took Canyon to Lauren's school today and he immediatly
 elevated her to semi-celebrity status. 
My fear of turning Lauren into a mini-mom is dismissed now that I see
 what the baby has done to her social life.

As for me...
I pray everyday that time will somehow slow down and I will be able to take it all in.
His smell, his little frog legs, his newborn baby cry,
                     his feather head, his little clutched fist, his lip quiver...
oh I could go on.

p.s. did you spot the imposter baby?


What a Girl Wants

                                    (A couple of years ago my one request was to have a good Mother's Day picture -
                                  these two pictures were the only decent ones after trying for about a half hour)
(Here the kids are pretending to be asleep.....yeah right, I wish!)

I hope everyone had a Happy Mother’s Day.

Yesterday I woke up repeating the Mother’s Day Serenity Prayer…

NOTE *best to read with extreme sarcasm*

“ I will have a grateful heart,
Actions don’t need to speak louder than words,
(just saying “Happy Mother’s Day“ thirteen times is gift enough)
It’s the thought that counts…
I will not have high expectations,
(or any expectations at all)
I will smile even through gritted teeth…”

(Repeat to yourself over and over as long as it takes till that smile shines on)

                                                                               (Mother's day gifts in the window)

I wonder what my problem is. I was not feeling the love yesterday on Mother's Day -
                    On Facebook and at church there were happy little mothers gushing about their lovely day.

I wondered what could be wrong with me.
Then I realized I don't think I am alone on this one.

My sister said all day yesterday she declared to her kids “hey, it’s Mother’s Day!”

A friend said she finally told her family NO to the angelic gesture of “breakfast-in-bed”
(she said she has always hated it more than a clogged sink.)

I heard a lady at the ballpark Saturday tell someone she buys herself her own corsage.

My sister-in-law said all she wanted for Mother’s Day was to be able to stay home alone and clean her house.

My requests were not nearly as noble or ambitious as that;

I am a bit more selfish.

I want my family to

talk sweet to each other all day

say with enthusiasm “Ok Mom” at my every request

clean out the junk drawer, the refrigerator or do a load of laundry
just pick something and clean it…you can’t go wrong.

realize that getting their baseball stuff out of the car is not really a “gift” for me

help with the incidentals around the house without me asking.
(changing the light bulb in the storage room that has been burned out for a year
 would just thrill me)

not say “just give us a list and we’ll go buy it”

not suggest that I need a nap, even though I usually do

do yard work…lots and lots of yard work

make something homemade for me, BUT put some effort in.
( “#1 MOM” written in pencil on a folded over piece of paper doesn’t quite make the scrapbook)

Keep in mind that Mom’s are full of tenderness on Mother’s Day. *handle with care.

See…I’m easy to please

I basically want my kids to be my servants and I want my husband to read my mind.

Is that too much to ask? It’s Mother’s Day for Heaven’s sakes!


baby boy bliss... the birth

I do realize I am not the only one to have ever had a baby…

It may seem like it the way we are carrying on about our new little boy.

We are on 24/7 new baby mode around here.

However this special newborn baby time has only a short little sacred window
and then all of a sudden we are all old news and life moves on.

So, indulge me if you will...(and I will try to be discreet)

My weekly doctor visits leading up to my due date were normal and routine.
The doctor said I was a 2 or 3 and about fifty percent effaced.
So I was determined to go into labor on my own.

I walked a lot, and ran errands and went hiking hoping to promote contractions.

And it worked!
I was having strong contractions for at least two weeks leading up to the baby's birth.

Just nothing ever progressed.

Two Friday's ago I called Dean at work in a panic and when he picked up the phone I said without a doubt…

”this is it; I need you to hurry home!”

I had inconsistent contractions all that night and kept waiting for things to get hard but by Saturday morning it had all faded away.

Which was actually just fine with me because to tell you the truth I was having major anxiety about labor.

If the doctor would’ve let me go overdue another week I would’ve jumped at the chance.

But here we were, Saturday…Sunday I was to be induced. There was no backing out.

To take my mind off things, I told the kids we could have a baby shower.
River called it a “baby wash”
We went to BYU and ran around and then out to eat.

The kids were darling, playful and excited about the upcoming “big event.”

That night after everyone was asleep including Dean I was packing up and finishing laundry and even painting my toenails.
I realized that I was finding excuses not to go to sleep.
At 1:00 am I told myself I was going to need my strength and rest
so I finally turned off the lights and went up to my room.

My baby girl Quincy was sleeping on a little blanket bed on our floor.
I laid down next to her on her pillow and just let go and cried my eyes out.
Don’t ask me why…
too many reasons to speak of.

I was having a lot of self-doubt
worry and sadness.

I worried about our changing family dynamics.
I regreted having another baby when Quincy still just a baby herself.

The next morning came so quickly.

We arrived at the hospital just after 6:00 am.
I got the best room.
Lucky #7 - with the view of the mountains.
After getting signed in and hooked up to the pitocin, the nurse came to “check me” to see how far along I was.

She was a bit alarmed and said she couldn’t find either a head or feet.

She could barely find my cervix. They brought in an ultrasound and found that the baby was just hanging up high and really far back even though I was a week overdue.
He was laying in a curled up horseshoe shape.
Which meant that I was basically starting at a zero.
I was so scared I started shaking and couldn’t stop. They brought in those heavenly warmed blankets.

The next few hours were filled with me trying to sleep and relax while Dean,
standing at the ready quietly watched TV.
As the contractions were getting harder I repeated in my mind…“I can handle this…everything is fine…I’m a survivor…I’ve done this before…calm and cool and relaxed”

But soon Doctor T. came in and broke my water and things started to speed up right away.

All that calmness went right out the window. Especially when the nurse checked me and I was just a 3.

I was devastated.

After another hour of hard contractions the nurse checked me again and I was only a five.

Oh the agony!

This time, the thoughts going through my mind were
“if this gets any harder I am going to ask for some pain meds! “

I even had a well thought out plan…

Dean told me later that at one point during labor I was asking about my earrings that I had forgotten to put in.

In my deranged mind I was thinking that if he realized that I didn’t have earrings in he would read my mind and go down to the gift shop and buy me some.
Then while he was gone that would be my chance to ask the nurse about some pain meds. Isn’t that crazy?

It has always been MY choice to NOT get an epidural;
in fact the labor process is very emotionally and physically hard on Dean.
But he helps me every step of the way.

I wanted to make him proud of me.

Thank goodness Dean knew the stages of labor and knew that I was deep in transition and ignored all my silly requests for earrings.

The nurse came in one more time to ask me how things were going. At this point I was kneeling on the lowered part of the bed and leaning forward on pillows because there are pressure points in the knees that ease labor.

The nurse typed a few things on the computer then pushed in the keyboard and left.

I can still hear the sound of the door shutting.
It was a lonely sound.
I wanted to yell to her to come back and help me because the baby was coming.
But I was so scared she would come back and tell me I was still a 5.

A few more contractions later,
just as I thought I would rather just surrender myself to death (too dramatic?)
All of a sudden I was hit with the most overpowering urge known to man...
and I felt like pushing. - So I just went with it.

And sure enough the baby was coming. We were alone in the room.
Dean grabbed my face and turned mine to his and in a semi-panic said;
“Hil, just breath…don’t push” (which is like holding back a river…impossible)

So I kept pushing while still kneeling.
Dean called the nurse and she calmly walked in ready to check me
but quickly realized that the baby was almost out.

She hit the panic button and soon the room filled with three doctors and five nurses.

Then while still kneeling and backwards and with one grand push ...
I delivered a sweet nine pound eight ounce baby boy.

My good doctor came running into the room just a few minutes too late.

Through all the commotion Dean whispered “It’s a boy”

I couldn’t even see him with all the people scurrying about.

Finally they handed him to me and my heart melted.

It was all worth it.

Every minute of
morning sickness,
weight gain,
nerve pain,
labor etc.

was all worth that very first moment

1:08 pm Sunday afternoon on the twenty fifth of April when I held my new son for the first time with my sweet husband standing next to me wiping my tears.


(a two minute video of the girl who needs to be everything)       So far my hobby has been micro-managing my kids and as rewardi...