Little Miss Ruth Noel

Little Miss Ruth Noel is often times a little too articulate, and perhaps even too self aware, for her mere two and a half years. Here are a few recent, favorite quotes.

On going to school…
Ruth: "School again?"
Me: "Yes. Ithought you liked school."
Ruth: "Uhh. Not that much."

On being a good girl…
Ruth: "I'm a good girl, but I cry sometimes."
Me: "Why?"
Ruth: "Well,that's just how I am."

On potty training…
"I'll just go in my diaper like a baby does."

On sleeping…
Ruth: "I did sleep."
Me: "No you didn't."
Ruth: "Oh, I was just tricking you."

On demanding Mommy's attention only…
Me: "Ruth, Daddy or Leyda or Bubba or anyone else can help you, too. Why only me?"
Ruth: "Becaaaause. I like you."

I like you, too, Ruth.
Truth is, I really love you.

Don't want to forget...

Georgia,

One day I may forget to tell you, but I would still love for you to know that

- Sam and Ruth really love you and they say your name about 158 times a day. "Ooooh, Georgia, Georgia, Georgia" is one of their favorite expressions. It's a very pretty name on their little tongues.

- Ruth is really rough with you. At first I thought she just didn't know better, but I'm not so sure anymore. She likes to squeeze your hands, your feet, and even one scary time, your nose.

- Sam always asks to hold and/or touch you. He's gotten very good at holding you, but he doesn't have much stamina. Each cuddle session usually lasts about a whopping 20 seconds.

- You are amazingly healthy and I am so grateful for this. You are definitely my strongest baby so far. Too bad you're also my fussiest. I can't figure that part out.

- Don't brag about this too much to bro and sis one day, but your dad and I both think you're absolutely the prettiest baby. You're stunning.

- You were born with a Mohawk and it's awesome.



- We've asked so much of you in your first little eleven weeks of life. You've already gotten a passport, taken an international trip, celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas with multiple parties, played outside in the park with Sam and Ruth, been to the grocery store, etc. Thank you for being willing to come along for the ride.

- I'm such a different mother than I was nearly five years ago. I am able to mother you from a much more relaxed place, thank God. I still tend to be way too worrisome, though, and pray frequently for trust and peace.

- Please know that I as you grow, so do I. That is my commitment to you.

Christmas Cheese

Here's a little, cheesy holiday poem to tell about the end of a big year.
The pictures will be our guide as I recount of all our Christmas cheer.

The season began in Guatemala. Sam and Ruth in "summer" school.
Mary and Joseph don't fight the snow here; sandals help keep them cool.

We sang and celebrated and partied and made Guatemalan memories
Before we took our international flight over the Mexican seas.


The American festivities began just a day after landing in San Antone.
Our first stop was "Grandma Cookie's" house, the place Pieniazeks call home.




First a flight, then a Pieniazek party, and then the very next day
Was Christmas Even with the Sligh's, celebrated in our traditional way.

After Christmas Eve of course, comes the excitement of Christmas morn'.
For unto us a Savior... and Tinkerbell, and baby dolls, and bikes are born.


And the day after Christmas? Our celebrations keep on going
With a visit from Mimi and Grandaddy and even more presents flowing!

So our children are convinced that Christmas is more than one simple day;
But when the week is finally over, we're back to real "work" and lots of play.

Now it's time to ring in the New Year with even more fun and games.
We're still in bed by 7, but not before Uncle Erik shows us fireworks and flames.
We didn't head back "home" to Guatemala until Tuesday, January ten,
Which left us plenty of time to hang out with our longest, dearest friends!




So of all the presents, parties, and food - what could the best part be?
Take a look at our last three pictures, and you can easily see...

Dedication

On Sunday, November 27th my little chapina was presented in front of our church, Vida Real. We committed to raising her in God's love and to provide her not just a biological family, but a church family as well.



Our Vida Real family surrounded us, prayed over us, and expressed such a powerful love for Georgia that it will affect her life forever. It was so moving it brought me to tears.



Our church here in Guatemala has meant the world to me. I have literally never met Christians like the ones that belong to our church.

When we first arrived in Guatemala, we visited many, many congregations.
(You may even recall me writing about the experience in my blog entry "La Vid Verdadera" on 10/24/2010). We even regularly attended a very Pentecostal church for the first three months or so we lived here. Although we enjoyed that church very much, after about three months we realized that Sunday mornings were getting to be too hard on our family.

There is a monthly magazine printed in Antigua that carries a classified section. One week I was saw an ad for a church service that would be meeting in a local hotel. The ad said there was a 9:00 a.m. service and an 11:00 a.m. service and that there were activities for children.

"Stephen," I said, "If they have another service just two hours after the first one starts, surely the service finishes within two hours." (Note: This statement gives a little insight as to why the other church started to be very difficult for our young family.)

So, the next Sunday we went and loved it. Come to find out, the church had opened its rented hotel doors just a few weeks before. We started attending regularly and literally became one of the first Antigua families to commit to the congregation.

Here is why I love this church:
1) My kids love it thanks to the amazing people that minister to them.
2) The people pray. And mean it. This is huge.
3) There is a vision and a plan and they are executed.
4) There is kindness so genuine you wonder if it's really genuine. But it is.
5) I am excited to go on Sunday mornings.
6) I am excited to go to my small group.
7) I have made wonderful friends.
8) I invite people without reservation because I am proud of the church.
9) There is a beautiful balance of being served and serving.
10) It feels like what church should be – not free of differences, but free of the pettiness that easily turn differences into problems.

I will miss you, Vida Real.

Options

I have a habit of giving my kids options.
Do you want syrup all over the pancakes or on the side? Do you want to play in the living room or the garden? Would you like water or milk? Do you want to pick up your toys or get a time-out? You get the idea.
Sam usually takes the two options very seriously. He considers them, mulls them over, really thinks about which of the two options would be best. It's not uncommon that we have to say, "Sam. Answer."
"I'm thiiiinking," he'll reply.
The limited-option-method has worked like a charm since Sam was two years old. Now that Ruth is talking two year old, I find myself doing the same thing with her. Except with Ruth, it usually plays out a bit differently.
"Ruth, do you want syrup all over your pancakes or on the side?"
"Umm, white sugar."
"Ruth, do you want to play in the living room or the garden?"
"The park."
"Do you want water or milk?"
"Juice."
"Do you want to pick up your toys or get a time-out?"
"You pick them up, Mommy."
You get the idea.
You see, I understand Sam. For personalities like ours, two options are more than enough and already present a tough enough decision. And plus, we trust the rules and the limits. For Ruth, there are no limits and there is no box. And although it can frustrate me to no end, deep down I admire that about her personality already. She understands that in this life, there are way more than just two options.

Georgia Kate

I did it. We did it. I had a baby in a foreign country, in a foreign hospital, with foreign doctors, and everything went well. Praise be to God.

Before she came…

Exactly a week before Georgia's birth, I started having frequent, albeit irregular, contractions. My doctor did an exam, said I was already starting to dilate and predicted the baby would be born within the week.

My sweet mom changed her flight and arrived on Wednesday, November 2, all of us anticipating Georgia's arrival any moment. The very next day, I went in for another exam. I was still dilated and this time 100% effaced. The doctor said that if my water and labor didn't start before Saturday, he would help me get going and meet me at the hospital Saturday morning at 8:00 a.m.

She's coming…

Although contractions continued on Thursday and Friday (November 3 and 4), my water never broke. My mom with Samuel and Ruth on Saturday morning, Stephen and I left for the private hospital here in Antigua.



When we arrived the doctor confirmed that I was already nearly 4 cm and that the contractions the past day were doing their job. He broke my bag of waters around 8:20 a.m. and the labor continued to progress.

Stephen and I were by ourselves in a very comfortable, nice labor room. I wasn't hooked up to beeping machines or lots of needles, or confined in any way. This was very different from arriving at the hospital in the US! Between contractions, Stephen and I read, talked, and even played half a game of Scrabble. We joked about what a "calm" morning it was, just the two of us. I walked the halls, I lay down, I sat up, and I labored. After a Guatemalan hospital cafeteria lunch, the doctor checked me again. In those morning hours I had progressed to the magic number of nearly 7 cm and was ready for my beloved epidural.



Still coming…

So remember how calm the morning was? Well, come 2:00 pm., everything changed!! I was walking the halls when a nurse came up to me and asked me to get on a stretcher. She informed me that I was going to be moved to the delivery room and the anesthesiologist was there to start my epidural. I told her I was capable of walking and that the stretcher wasn't really necessary. But she insisted. Let's mark that as "very different and kinda weird thing #1."

As soon as I was wheeled into the delivery room, my husband disappeared. Literally. I had no idea where Stephen was and why he wasn't walking behind me. At first I started to laugh, thinking how funny it was that things were turning strange so fast. When Stephen still didn't show up a few minutes later, the laughter turned to tears. I realized I never had really asked about protocol for the husband in the delivery room and started to worry that he wouldn't be there. I was contracting and crying and laboring and getting more and more nervous. I kept asking about him and when he would be there. After about 20 minutes he finally shows up, dressed in hospital scrubs and a mask. I started to laugh again.

While I was getting set up in the delivery room, Stephen was forced to completely change his clothes and scrub in. Mark this now as "very different and kinda weird thing #2," considering that for both Sam and Ruth, I labored and delivered in the same room with Stephen wearing jeans and tennis shoes. But whatever, he was with me.

Then the epidural came and my body progressed pretty quickly to nearly 9 cm. The doctor said that happens when you give the epidural at the right time and your body relaxes for the home stretch.

But the thing is, even with the epidural, I was very aware of the labor. I knew exactly when each contraction was coming, how long they were, and even was aware of how intense they were. When I was close to 9 cm, I almost started feeling too much for my liking. If you know me, you know that I deal with pain by crying. Bring on 9 cm and the water works. I was bawling, I hurt. Apparently, I also forget how to speak Spanish when I'm nervous and hurting. I had no idea what anyone was saying.

Also, I haven't mentioned yet "very different and kinda weird thing #3." Once I was in the delivery room, the pediatrician, the anesthesiologist, and my obgyn never left my side. It was me, the three male doctors, my husband, and one female nurse always there. Looking at me. Watching me. Waiting for something to happen. Speaking a lot of Spanish I didn't understand. Stephen told me later that they were joking and talking and that I occasionally laughed a long with them. Really? I did?

Then my doctor said he needed to help me get to the home stretch. My guess is that I was tensing up so much towards the end that mind wasn't allowing my body to finish the job. Then, something went into an IV in my arm and it burrrnnned. Now I'm crying about my arm, begging for more epidural medicine, and not understanding a damned word anyone is saying.

She came!

And then she's on her way. All of a sudden I start to understand, "Now I'm going to count, 1, 2, 3, and then I want you to push." Did I speak Spanish again? Oh, no, that wasn't it. My obgyn was kind enough to start speaking to me in English. Stephen is holding my hand, telling me to breathe, telling me he sees her head, telling me she has hair. And then, she's here.



And she's huge, and she's beautiful, and she's perfect.



The pediatrician takes her right away, introduces her to me, says something about "besos" and then takes her off to check her out.



I tell Stephen to go with the baby, while I pass the placenta and take a breather. I feel so proud, and so happy, and so glad that I did it. We did it. I had a perfect, healthy baby in a foreign country, in a foreign hospital, with foreign doctors, and everything went well.



Praise be to God. Welcome to this world, Georgia Kate.

Just 3 Days

In just three days, we've had lots of new experiences.

On Friday, October 21, Sam started Karate classes.


He did great, but who knew you have to be flexible for Karate?

On Saturday, October 22, Ruth's nanny (and my right-hand woman) had a bridal shower…or bachelorette party…or a combination of the two, I'm not too sure. Ruth and I attended and had a blast. The party was really like nothing I have ever seen. It was this interesting mix of proper bridal shower etiquette mixed with really risqué bachelorette party-style games.


I mean, just check out abuela with the carrot between her legs. And this was only one of about seven games that made you laugh and feel uncomfortable for abuela all at the same time.


Yes, that's the "Banana Game." You can let your mind go there, because these ladies certainly did!


Ruth was a big help. :)

On Sunday, October 23, Sam had his official graduation from Guatemalan pre-kinder class. The two hour (two hour!!) ceremony included the handing out of diplomas and medals, video presentations, special class presentations, and singing.



My favorite part is that the students all sang songs in English. We've been hearing Sam practice his songs for weeks now and he always sings the English songs with a strong Spanish accent. "Meester sun, Meester sun, Meester Golen Sun…pease shine don on meee." Too funny!!

AND, this afternoon, my neighbors and several other women from the neighborhood surprised me with a baby shower! I felt so loved!



It's OK. You can say it (think it). I'm huge.


Ruth wanted to see how many squares of toilet paper her belly measured, too.


Here's some advice next time you're in Guatemala, pregnant, and having a baby shower: when Guatemalans tell you that it's tradition to take a bite out of the cake before they cut it, don't be as gullible as I was. This is just their way of saying, "Get your head really close to the cake so we can shove your face into it." Stephen thought I saw it coming, but I honestly was just that gullible. So much cake went up my nose my sinuses still feel funny.

What a fun weekend! I feel loved and blessed. And huge. And ready to have this baby. :)

I'll close with one of our favorite songs lately. Enjoy. We cut it short, so you can get the idea in less than 40 seconds.