Simon's Blessing

Little Simon Dean was blessed on Sunday, the 25th of July, 2010.

We had a brief and amateur photo shoot before church that day. I opted for a little grey and white romper instead of the glowing white satin outfit that baby boys often don when they are christened or blessed mainly because he has these darling little black paten lace up shoes that are teeny tiny and I wanted him to wear them before his feet grew too big.

Yes, it was about the shoes, really. I can't help it. It's genetic.

Simon's cousin Kailyn met him for the first time that day. So we took a picture.

And several family members commented that Jacob (my sister Deb's son) looks a lot like an older version of Dylan.

They certainly know how to strike the same "Blue Steel."


My mom held Simon for a few moments and I happened to be holding the camera.

Honestly, there were so many people and crazy kids (see photo below) it was a little chaotic and my head was spinning from fatigue, so we didn't get as many shots as I would have liked.




I did at least get a picture of Amelia doing her current favorite activity. She'll only hold him for a little while though because she says, "Simon's going to break my arms off!" because he's soooo heavy. Apparently, hyperbole is also genetic.

Here is Evan reminding Dylan that running around like a maniac and shouting barbaric yawps with his cousins is not appropriate when people are trying to have a Sunday School class in the next room.

Here's our first family picture with Simon (including red eyes that my editing program won't take out without putting black marks on our faces).

The next day I found a spot of good light in the afternoon sun and put Simon in the same outfit Dylan wore laying on this blanket over three years ago. It was a favorite shirt and shorts combo for Dylan. And you can tell.

But a few hand-me-downs, wrinkled or not, never hurt anyone.

Peace.

Simon

Because of this little guy's arrival, we have been a little out of sorts. Joyfully out of sorts, mind you, but out of sorts none the less. Evan has been out of town more than any of us prefer and I have been just keepimg my head above water. As a result, Simon's blogging debut has been delayed.

(And I am blogging with one hand, nursing the baby with the other. TMI?)

Simon Dean Rogers was born on May 19, 2010 weighing 6 lbs. 14 oz. and measuring 20 inches long. It about half killed me to birth him as he came so quickly that there was no time for drugs. It was totally traumatizing, but I survived and can now commiserate with my sisters all over the world and in centuries past who had no other choice but to push their babies out sans drugs, and in huts and fields...and inflatable pools.

Just a side note: I was informed that as you push the baby out someone dubbed the sensation the "ring of fire". This to me sounds more like something entertaining and circus-like. I think a more appropriate name would be "someone took a blowtorch to your crotch". And the "discomfort" of contractions? Really? Discomfort? More like "insides hewn in several parts with a knife and fork."

Anyway...we are joyful...now.

I loaded these pictures with the most recent first, so they're backwards as you scroll down. And I'm not changing them (one-handed typing and all).

Here's our little prince at about 2 months.

He is really a great baby--smiles, laughs, eats, and SLEEPS!

This is how Amelia has amused herself while I'm nursing.

The three dudes doing what they love on a Sunday afternoon...

(I wanted a nap, too, but instead I was taking pictures. That is so like me.)

diminishing hair, but dang cute face!

a little more hair (yes, he's getting balder...more bald?)

Nice.

worthy of being published

Nothing like a shiner to welcome a new little brother...

And I'm out. Baby is done nursing.

It's May...

I have pictures of Easter, kids blowing bubbles, and all sorts of other not-so-gravely important, but darling events in our lives that have occurred since my last post.

But I am tired and huge.

I am so ready for this baby to arrive, which means I probably won't post much for a while after that as well.

I'll catch up. Or, I'll start up again wherever I am.

Until then...happy days!

Babies, babies, babies.

Some of you know that I have never been pregnant "on my own." What this means is that each time I have been expecting a baby, so has either one of my sisters or sisters-in-law, and our due dates have been within weeks of each other.

With Amelia, my older sister Deb was due a couple of weeks ahead of me. Her son Jacob is about two and a half weeks older than Amelia.

With Dylan, my sister-in-law Heather was due not long before me. Her daughter Chloe was born exactly two weeks before Dylan.

But this time takes the cake. Our third little Rogers is due on May 23rd. My sister-in-law Aileen, Evan's only sister, is due on May 21st; my sister-in-law Katherine, my brother Lee's wife, is being induced on the 24th of May because Lee has a week off; and my younger sister Elizabeth is due in mid-June.

I am having a boy, Aileen is having a girl, Katherine is having a girl, Elizabeth is having a boy.

And so, we commiserate together periodically.

Katherine and I have communicated mostly via email, and I was reading back on some of our exchanges and thought they were post worthy. I hope that Katherine doesn't mind me sharing.

I must post a disclaimer here to say that these emails do not reflect the wonder of the miracle of motherhood, nor are they sensitive to our dear friends who have trouble conceiving. (We love you and pray for you! And in the grand scheme of things, we know that we are grateful that we are even able to be pregnant).

Here are the emails...

Katherine: I thought I'd admit to someone that I finished an entire bag of Dove Caramel Choclates in 1 and 1/2 days....Nice!

Jayne: You are soooo pregnant! If it makes you feel any better, I ate a box of Milk Duds and nearly an entire bag of popcorn last night...by myself when Evan was sitting next to me. I would have shared if he had asked...but he didn't.

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Katherine: I want to complain to someone who understands...I am getting fat! That's right F.A.T. I can't deny it and I can't turn back now. I hate it! I guess eating another bag of Dove Caramel chocolates didn't help, but what can I say?! Sigh!!!!

Sometimes I think, wow, I only have four more months to go, so I better finish all of the projects that I have before the baby comes. And then I think, wow, four more months to pack on the pounds.

How did your sugar appointment go today? I have mine next week.

Jayne: You are so funny!! I feel totally fat too. And I am fat; I just don't feel it. I see my butt and thighs in the mirror. It's not really my tummy that bothers me; that's supposed to get big. But why my butt? Why my thighs? I mean really.

You will shrink down again, don't worry! You have each time before and you will again. (I'm telling this to myself as much as you!)

Oh, and sugar appointment = LAME. I hardly ate anything this morning because I didn't have time and then I couldn't eat an hour before my 9:30 appointment when I actually did have time. So, I had a headache when I got to the doctor's office. Then I had to suck down that syrupy sugar drink and got an even worse headache, had to sit for an hour with a pounding head, and finish it off with a poke from a needle. The moral is, I suppose, to actually eat something substantial before your appointment.

And my luck will be that this time, I'll have gestational diabetes or anemia or something else absolutely lovely.

That's rather cynical of me isn't it? Huh. Maybe the sugar really got to me today. I'm cranky. Oh...wait. I'm just pregnant. And fat. Yeah. That's it.

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Katherine: I'm not kidding when I say my belly is sticking straight out!!!

Jayne: My belly and my butt are sticking out. Not straight out, but certainly out. Maybe they counter balance each other, which reduces the severity of their "outness."

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I need to conclude by saying that Katherine is absolutely gorgeous and I am certain that she is beautiful even when she is pregnant.

And I just try not to spend much time looking in the mirror from the neck down.

Christmas...finally

Yeah, it's January and I'm finally posting pictures from Christmas. I'm going to use the pregnant card as my excuse, thank you very much. (Really, I just haven't gotten to it and that's that.)

We spent Christmas Eve afternoon with the Rogers eating a scrumptious dinner at 2:00 p.m. and allowing the abundant cousins to run amok. The adults chatted and picked at food until it was time to eat it and open presents. The kids sat in a circle orchestrated by Grandma Phillis and took turns opening their presents for the gift exchange.

Amelia received some jewelry and lovely hair bows and flowers along with a little snowman tea set that her Grandma Phillis had been saving for her until she was old enough not to break it. She was rather excited about her presents, but expressed some concern that the jewelry sets came with pierced earrings. She covered her ear lobes and said with wide eyes, "Earrings?! I can't wear earrings. Do I have to get my ears pierced?"

Her Uncle Brant explained that the jewelry sets just happened to come with earrings and that she could save them for later or give them away. And I reminded her that they were her ears and that she could decide if she wanted them pierced.

Crisis diverted.

Dylan received some cool little die-cast cars in his favorite colors, $10 for winter clothes, and an awesome Magna Doodle that he uses all the time. The little cars were kept in his special back pack for several days in a row and taken out at bedtime so that he could sleep with them.

Yes, I think he liked them.

In the evening the kids bathed and put on their fleece sleepers complete with footies. Then Amelia prepared the offering for Santa for the first time. She drew a picture and chose this giant plate and a small glass of milk. Then as an added measure she made a sign and portrait that said "fo Santa" in case he was confused about the intended recipient of the offering.

Yes, those are poker chip chocolate "flavored" candies. They were a gift.

Don't ask.

And Amelia decided that Santa should only have two because he might get a stomachache.

This concern turned out to be prophetic, though it was Amelia who woke up with the stomachache in the morning. The early morning, in fact. She vomited a few times around 2:30 and didn't really fall asleep again until 3:30 or so. So, come Christmas morning, see-what-Santa-brought time, she was in no mood to move from her bed. Santa had carefully arranged his gifts under the tree, so Dylan saw his cool stash of vintage Adventure People toys circa 1976 (Santa must shop on eBay--these are the exact toys Evan had as a boy), while Amelia stayed in bed.

We opened the rest of the gifts in Amelia's room. Well, Dylan actually opened her gifts and showed them to her (how often does that happen?!). Eventually she felt better.





The two munchkins ventured outside with their new small toys and set up camping in the dormant flower bed.

Then, Amelia must have really felt better, because she tossed handfuls of the autumn-esque leaves that were finally falling and danced around and made leaf angels.






We spent Christmas Day afternoon with the Richardsons and I forgot my camera, so no photos are present. But we did manage to make way too much Tex-Mex style food, enjoy some awesome salsas, jump on the trampoline, and open more gifts.

And that was our Christmas.

It's a boy...

At 10:30 this morning we all squeezed into a small room with Connie the technician, looked at our new baby from various angles and then had it announced to us that he is a boy. (It was kind of obvious, actually.)

And Amelia is happy...this was a surprise.

She said once at lunch, "But, I don't want to be the only girl."

I said, "What am I? Chopped Liver?"

She said, "No. But I'll be the only kid who's a girl."

And I said, "Yes. And that makes you the princess." A huge, toothy smile spread across her face. I think she's going to be just fine.

Dylan just said, "A baby brother! A baby brother!......cool."

Yes, we're still alive and breathing...

So, we have had an exceedingly busy last several weeks causing us to fall out of the blogging stratosphere for a little while.

Evan started a new job partnering with his good buddy Todd and establishing the Warren Dean Group. They are a multi-faceted business solutions consulting firm, and they have been unbelievably occupied with this endeavor. Evan has been in both Chicago and Cancun in the last three weeks.

I started teaching an Education course for Master's students at the University of Phoenix and have been struggling with intense nausea during the first trimester of my third pregnancy. The baby is due in May and we hope to find out the sex in mid-December, as long as the baby cooperates, of course. (Amelia was rather modest at her first sonogram and we only had an educated guess that the baby was likely a girl; Dylan had no problem letting us know that he was a boy.)

The nausea seems to have subsided as of yesterday, and I feel so much better that I thought I could even take a moment to update any of our readers who have been hanging in suspense wondering what in the world we have been up to. (I hope the two of you haven't been too miserable with anticipation.)

Amelia and Dylan are trudging along. Amelia still isn't certain that she's exactly crazy about school, but her complaints are fewer, most likely because she has figured out that if she completes her work at school none comes home to finish, except her reading assignments. But, she actually likes the little books for the most part and is really starting to decode the words, if she is in the mood.

Dylan and I are taking a Gym Time Parent-Toddler class on Tuesdays and a Kindermusic class on Thursdays, both of which he generally enjoys. I think he prefers running around the gym after balls and rolling hula-hoops, climbing through tunnels, and jumping ninja-style off of exercise trampolines to sitting in his music spot tapping music sticks or using egg shakers pretending to sing songs that he doesn't really know because we never listen to the CD.

And Evan is being Evan--working his tail off, keeping a hundred balls in the air, his eggs in several baskets...you pick the cliche.

We did have a Halloween, by the way. Amelia was a white rabbit, Dylan wore a pirate shirt because he decided 10 minutes before trick-or-treating that neither his Batman or Superman costumes were preferable.

Evan and I wore authentic, and rather stylish clothing, from the late 60s, early 70s, thanks to my parents. Evan donned a puffy black afro and John Lennon glasses along with my Dad's old bell-bottoms; a gauze, butterfly-collared shirt; and a sweet honey colored leather jacket. Starsky and Hutch watch out! Evan looked pretty cool.

I used my regular hair and a dress my mom made and wore back in the day that was long, printed and very hippy-ish. But, still, I had someone (who I think was probably not exceedingly observant) ask me what I was. Didn't the giant peace sign dangling from my neck say something?

Oh well. We took some pictures somewhere. I'll have to post them when I have more time.

That's all for now. Have a happy Thanksgiving (because it's likely I won't post again until after the holiday).