It's a ... What!?

February turned into a crazy busy month. The shortest month was made even shorter by an impromptu trip to Minnesota and by a vacation to Florida. In the midst of it all, we found out the gender of our newest Laehn baby.

We think so, anyway.

I planned my ultrasound for my birthday so that I would have something to look forward to on my big day. I scheduled the ultrasound close to lunch and close to Tim's work so we could sneak in a quick lunch date.

We have been a bit at odds about finding out the gender of the baby. With Penelope, we didn't find out. I figured, only for the last 20-ish years have people been able to find out with any certainty the gender, so I decided to join the millennia of women who found out after they endured the hard work of labor.

However, Tim had me convinced our baby was a boy. So when Penelope came out and Tim told me we just had a girl, I wasn't that excited — I was just mad at Tim. I wasn't sad that she was a girl, I was just frustrated that I had anticipated having a boy and my expectation wasn't met. And did I mention it was Tim's fault?

So, we found out with August.

And in my mind there wasn't an option for this baby #3, but Tim really liked the excitement of not knowing. I really, really, really wanted another girl, and Penelope did, too. I could handle the disappointment, but I think it would be a little bit cruel to rock the 3-year-old's world when her life will already be jolted with a new baby and mom's new demands. So, better to break the news of a boy now than when she meets him in a few months, right?

When we got to the appointment we agreed to have the ultrasound tech write down the gender and we would open it at lunch. It's a little awkward to have a complete stranger announce really important, life-altering news in that little dark room. But I'm not into the overly elaborate gender reveal business.

My belly was all jellied and the baby was there with it's little heart beating, so that was great. For the first time during an ultrasound, I could identify what we were looking at. With my previous ultrasounds, my brain turned everything into a face, so we'd be looking at kidneys, and I'd see eyes and a nose.

But this time I could tell the tech was trying to find gender-revealing parts. She would head down there and then resume looking at the brain or the heart. After a while, she told us that the baby's legs were crossed, so she couldn't really tell. But she kept trying. She would nudge my belly in hopes of making the kid move, but it just wouldn't.

And then, all of the sudden, she turned off the machine.

"Did you figure out the gender?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she said.

Not too convincing. I didn't see the baby move a foot. I'm convinced the tech was just impatient and wanted to get to her lunch break.

Afterward, Tim and I had a really great date at Table 128 (get the ugly doughnut appetizer if you go). And we opened the envelope. And it said:

So, in the mean time, Penelope and I are planning on the girl. But I'm not 100% convinced. I know she didn't see anything, but that doesn't mean there wasn't anything to see. I could get an elective ultrasound. In fact, there's a shop within walking distance of my house that does them, but I can't decide if it's worth the $100-170 to do it.

I have about three months left of this pregnancy to figure out if I need confirmation. What do you think I should do?

This is Why People Go on Warm Weather Vacations

A couple weeks ago, the Bouska family did something that it had never done before. John, Mary, and the three girls + families went on a warm-weather vacation.

Growing up, we were not the Florida vacation family. My parents carefully picked out rustic cabins in South Dakota, Wisconsin, or Colorado, and we would stay there for a few days. We didn't do Disney. We did the Corn Palace.

But in my parents' empty-nested years, they have taken annual trips to Florida to visit their friends who winter there. After last year, my dad watched too many little kids playing on the beach, and he decided he was going to get his grandkids down there. All this being said, it was the first time I had been to a nice warm beach when the rest of my world was frozen. It took 32 years. ha.

Penelope was such a great traveler!

Months ago, my sisters started looking at vacation rentals that would be big enough for our whole family. They snatched up this one, and it was perfect. Beach-front property, a heated pool, plenty of beds and bathrooms to go around. Plus, I've always dreamed of staying in a house on stilts.

It was the yellow one that you can't really see behind the palm tree.

And then I turned around and took this photo. Amazing, right?

The great thing about the house was that it was sitting in a giant sandbox. So, from the moment my kids woke up in the morning, they were out playing in the sand, collecting sea shells, and dabbling their feet in the water.

Brandon and Tim were also really into playing in the sand.

Auggie, especially, was in heaven. He loved chasing sea gulls, and just walking (or running) forever down the beach.

One of my favorite memories from the trip was the double date Tim and I went on with Beth and Brandon. We were going to go on individual dates since grandma, grandpa, and Aunt Julie were babysitting. But then we decided we would just enjoy adult conversation together. So we ate on the water under our own little cabana. It was such a fun time.

We got to ride a trolly to get to the the restaurants and shops at Fort Myers Beach, which my kids loved. It was the first time Auggie has ever been front facing in a vehicle. Penelope called it "The Shaly."

My Dad's birthday is December 26, but after 60 years of his celebration competing with Christmas, he decided to move it to the last week in February. So we celebrated it with this little cake that Penelope picked out.

It was foggy a lot of the time we were there. On more than one occasion the natives apologized for the weather, which was funny to me. Iowa was enduring record-setting, below-zero temperatures and wind chills the week we were gone. The 60s and 70s were just fine with me.

Penelope took this photo! Isn't it great?

We found a starfish!

What I learned from this vacation is that going on a big, extended family vacation is great. We enjoyed each other so much, and it was so nice to have other people watch my kids that it was really relaxing. It was also fun to let Penelope, August and Bennett have a week of cousin time.

In black, Julie, everyone's favorite aunt :)

This was right after Penelope said, "Brandon is such a great man."

I also learned that getting a little natural vitamin D is awesome, that white Florida sand is better than any other sand I've stepped on, and that it is really great to see a sunset over the ocean for a week straight.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for this awesome week!

Life, Death, and Love

I'm in that stage in life that is all about life. In fact, at a rate of about every 23 months, I bring home a new little life from the hospital. I witness an amazing thing where this little person was not quite a part of this world the previous day and now it is, and I love it so much more than I could ever imagine.

We all know that life is not forever. I read about it all of the time. Verses like Psalm 103:15-16 come to mind: "As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it and it is gone, and its place knows it no more." I think about death often, both as an anxiety of what if I die before my kids grow up, but also in the reality of Jesus' death on the cross, and how his death and resurrection offers the promise of life beyond this life. 

But just as my babies started to exist in a moment, where once they didn't exist, so also life ceases to exist when it once has.

At the beginning of February, I lost my grandma. She was a sweet little lady who had been suffering from dementia for the last five-or-so years. Even though she was not quite as sweet, and not quite the same lady she was previous to dementia, as I started having kids I felt more connected to her than ever before. She had eight babies. And she told me multiple times each visit that she loved every one.

I told my grandma and grandpa of our newest baby-to-be at my grandma's 90th birthday party in November. My grandpa said, "I remember how this goes. Every so often we would call a family meeting together to tell the kids there was going to be another baby. Your mom and Aunt Kathy caught on quickly to these family meetings and would say, 'I bet there's another baby coming,' before the announcement was made."

Something about this little story of my grandma and grandpa and their adventure in raising eight kids made me happy. He understood a big family. And he won't think it's the slightest bit weird if ours grows beyond three kids.

My grandparents were married 67 years. That is incredible. Some people don't live 67 years, but they spent 67 years united in marriage. Because marriages today last about 7-14 years, many people have lost hope in the institution of marriage altogether.

But my grandparents' marriage gives me extra hope in my wedding vows. My grandpa held true to his promises of "in sickness and in health" and "until death do we part." He took care of my grandma throughout the dementia, even though she morphed into a person  that had a very different personality than the woman he married. And it was only in the last week or two of my grandma's life that she needed more help than he could offer and she was moved into a memory care facility.

I think this kind of love is beautiful. It is beautiful because it ultimately is real love. It's not that gushy kind of love that I remember from when I was dating Tim. It is difficult, gut-wrenching, selfless love that has absolutely nothing to do with you and has everything to do with the person you love.

I think this kind of love is scary. It is scary because it is hard. It's not pretty. It takes everything out of you. As I've watched my grandparents over the last couple of years, I've often wondered what will my marriage look like when Tim and I are old. Watching my grandpa gives me hope that God's grace to love and serve will be there.

To Clean or Not to Clean?

A few months ago I walked into my kitchen and it looked like this:

We hadn't been robbed. I had made dinner and cookies...at the same time. And August helped out by taking a bunch of stuff off the shelves.

When I walked into the kitchen, I just started laughing. I had been in there working for at least an hour, but when I walked out and came back in, I saw what had happened. And it was so funny.

Some people love cleaning. I am not one of those.

On New Year's Eve, I had a big plan to clean my bedroom—the one room in the house where I can close the door and no one has to see, so it never ever gets cleaned. But then, I had a moment of genius remembering the party poppers my sister brought back from England for Christmas a couple of years back and thought I should make some of those.

So instead of cleaning, Penelope and I made confetti.

Oh the irony. I could choose to clean and bless my husband for once by not having an unsettling, tornadic sort of bedroom, but I chose to make something that would ultimately make a huge mess in our house. (There are still bits of confetti in the spare bedroom where we made it, too.)

I'm not sad about that choice. We had a few friends over that night, and actually made it to midnight (first time since P was born). The poppers were the best way I've ever brought in the New Year.

Some people like to clean. Other people clean because they can't function in chaos. I've discovered it's easier for me to live in chaos than to create order. And not that my house is horribly disgusting, it's just not that clean. It takes me longer than other people to clean. And then whatever I do immediately gets undone by my kids. So it all seems pointless.

I prefer to create. But creating makes messes. And I'm ok with that.

There have been times where I have become overwhelmed by the blog world's obsession with having clean, organized, and perfectly decorated houses. It just seems so idyllic. And perfect. So, I would try to maintain the order that appears in a photo (which is actually only representative of one moment of time) and then I would fail.

I know creating order is helpful; I'm not against it. But I had to laugh at this list I saw on Pinterest today:

People seriously disinfect light switches on a weekly basis? Instead, I will play basketball with August, put a puzzle together with Penelope, or clean up breakfast from the table.  And I will revel in strengthened immune systems at our house from light switches that have never been disinfected.

If you are a cleaner, I am so happy for you. You have a gift. And you can share that gift with your messy friends. :)

If you tend to be a little more whimsical and a mess seems to trail behind wherever you are, just know that you are really great, too. Feel free to invite me to your house in the middle of your mess. I won't judge. I will feel at home.

The Skate Date

I have a love-hate relationship with Iowa winters.

I cannot complain about the 55 degree days we had last week. My kids had so much fun outside with fewer layers on. We saw our neighbor girls for the first time in forever.

But there's something about the freeze/thaw of the Iowa winter that makes it a little more miserable than that of a just-plain-cold Minnesota winter. People mostly stay inside in Iowa, whereas in Minnesota, people make the most of the frozen tundra. Usually people snowmobile, ski, snowshoe, play hockey or ice skate. And even some sit on a frozen lake and stare at a hole waiting for a fish to bite their line. Whatever it may be, people have some sort of hobby to make winter special.

So, one of my goals in parenting is to instill a love of winter in my children. Mostly I want my kids to be proficient ice skaters. I learned to walk and ice skate about the same time growing up. By the time kids are in elementary school in Minnesota, they can skate well. In Iowa, it is hilarious to watch the teenage and adult novice ice skaters.

My friend Sarah, a fellow Minnesota native, and I talked about taking our girls on an ice skating date. There is a skating rink that opened on the river across from downtown a few years ago, and it's actually the only outdoor ice I know of in Central Iowa. I was so excited about this because Penelope and I haven't done anything just the two of us since August was born.

We started the date with lunch at Scenic Drive Bakery, a hip new place in the East Village.

Did I mention that Penelope and Lainey have literally been friends forever? They are three weeks apart, and Sarah and I spent a lot of time together while we were pregnant, so they practically knew each other in the womb.

After lunch, we went skating.

Penelope was so brave.

These little walker things are great. At first she was moving her feet trying the get the skating down, but then we realized that if she just held on to the front and kept her feet in position, I could push her and we could go really fast. (Note the Iowa ice skaters holding hands in the background. That's what I'm talking about.)

She loved going fast.

Lainey was a little more cautious than Penelope. But eventually, she got on the ice. And then got off.

I was nervous that it would be hard to get out of there. Penelope was having so much fun. But it had started raining, and there were quite a few people skating and the ice was turning to slush. Penelope had become dissatisfied with the speed of our skating. She wanted to go faster, but it was impossible.

When we got home, she told Tim all about the fun. She told him how everyone else kept falling, but she didn't fall. She was really impressed with herself, not recognizing the power of the blue walker.

To complete our winter weekend, there is little snow storm that is dumping 10 inches on Des Moines right now. Ice skating and snow? A perfect combination. We will be outside again tomorrow.

It Goes Fast Even When It's Standing Still

Whenever I'm at the mall with my little kids, strangers always come up to me and tell me the same nugget of advice, "Enjoy your kids; it goes fast." These strangers are always in their late 40s, and most likely have high school kids. I always appreciate these interactions and need the encouragement to enjoy this. I need it. 

I especially need to remember it right now. 

Last week was dangerously cold, so we stayed at home. I was doing pretty well despite the fact that I usually need to be out and about on play dates with friends. I was all in all content. But just as the wind chills crept above zero, my kids got sick. Just colds, but I have a couple of the drooliest, slimiest kids on the planet, so if we went anywhere, we would infect many. 

All this to say that it's been another week at home. My patience is wearing thin, and I feel sorry for myself. So, I make some cookie dough and feel better about life for a little bit. But then I get discontent again.

But I can choose to be thankful. I can choose to embrace my kids' little lives, because it will go fast. This week feels eternal, but next week will come. 

This is a really encouraging verse that I need to memorize, "God has also given riches and wealth to every man, and He has allowed him to enjoy them, take his reward, and rejoice in his labor. This is a gift of God, for he does not often consider the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with the joy of his heart." Ecclesiastes 5:19-20

Those strangers, they don't remember the water all over the bathroom floor, toys in the toilet, or the three-year-old freaking out because she can't quite communicate what she's thinking. They remember the tickling, the jumping on the bed, and the forts. 

I'm sure I won't remember these last two weeks when I'm 48, but I can also approach these sick winter days with joy and enjoy my kids.

Look at that poor sick kiddo! Going to the clinic to see Brett was the only time we got to see a friend in the midst of our sickness. It's nice to have a familiar face when my kids have sick visits. 

Nine Days of Christmas

I feel like I have just recovered from all of the holiday craziness enough to be able to write about it. Our Christmas tree is down (again), and my house is sparsely decorated, which is all very refreshing. But Christmas was great. We were so blessed to spend so much time with our family. We were showered with gifts, and the kids did extremely well being out of any sort of routine for well over a week.

We started Christmas early, going up to Minnesota on the 21st, staying for the big Whaley shindig on the 23rd, and heading back to Iowa on Christmas Eve.

It was so great to have extended family time in Minnesota. All of the Bouskas were home, including Julie from London—who graciously slept on my parents' couch and was woken up by my kids every morning. And of course, Cousin Bennett was there. My kids love Bennett—especially August who is obsessed with babies.

Isn't this the best photo ever?

The Bouska Christmas is a sacred event. Emails discussing Christmas plans begin in October. This year, our official Christmas celebration included a trip to Macy's in downtown Minneapolis for the "Day in the Life of an Elf" display. It was so fun to watch Penelope love it. The displays have scenes of elves preparing for Christmas, making toys and candy, receiving letters to Santa. And everything moves. It's really magical.

Penelope thought it would be good to pose with all of the mannequins at Macy's.

That event was followed by a big Chirstmas dinner by my Mom, and presents.

The rest of my family worked on Monday, so we went to the Mall of America. I have a special affection for the MOA because I practically lived there in high school. I wasn't in many sports of extra-curricular activities, and I pretty much just remember spending a lot of time at the mall. I didn't realize the monstrosity of the place because that was my normal. But I hadn't been there in years, and it was so fun to take my own family there.

Penelope and Tim got to go on some pretty fun rides:

And August wanted to get in on the fun, so he got to ride with Dad and Penelope on this truck!

Penelope loved playing at Lego Land.

On the 23rd, we celebrate Christmas with my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. It was such a great time catching up with everyone. And my kids looked super cute, too!

We have an epic white elephant gift exchange at this party. As Julie said, "Dad won Christmas," after getting the Jolly Green Giant so his grandkids could play with him when they visit (mom was not quite as excited about that), and he was regifted the pig that my mom tried to get rid of as her white elephant. My dad loves this pig. He's a funny guy.

After our kids were thoroughly worn out from my family, we drove to Grinnell, Iowa on Christmas Eve for the Laehn Christmas. Unfortunately, I don't think there were any photos of this event, except this one from the drive down:

At the Laehns', we ate great meals, lots of Christmas cookies, and cheese (the Swiss are serious about cheese). And the kids had tons of fun playing with Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Tom. We went to Christmas Eve church as a family and sang every Christmas hymn possible. We were spoiled with gifts on Christmas morning. And we played a few hands of poker, which I lost miserably.

We finally returned home late Christmas evening and started unpacking and reorganizing all of the stuff we had accumulated on our travels.

But family time was not quite over. Beth, Brandon, and Bennett came down the next day, planning on attending the Faithwalkers conference that was held in Des Moines. We had tons of fun with them, most noteably at Bass Pro Shop, and also got to meet a couple of their friends from their church in Bloomington.

In total, it was nine intense days of family, and that's what the holidays are for.