First day of Preschool

So, I've been putting this post off for a week or so- and for a good reason, too.

A year ago, we enrolled Kenli in pre-school at barely two years of age. I thought she'd be ready, but after 8 weeks of our best efforts we pulled Kenli out of the program. We figured she had enough on her plate with a new sister, new room and potty training.

We tried again this year, and boy what a difference a year makes. Now she is three, more independent and much more social. She tells me how much fun she has at pre-school and my mind is still adjusting to these good feelings associated with pre-school. Here she is on her first day of school. I was able to hold back the tears until we pulled up to the parking lot. I was such a proud mama that day.

We were able to spend some time with her on her first day. And just like I figured, she went straight to the baby dolls and parked herself on the couch.
We also had a chance to explore the new playground. Kenli ran, jumped, climbed and crawled allover the equipment. Here's a funny shot I grabbed of that. Did I mention that I was the only parent with a camera out? I kept checking to see if I was being paparazzi mama, and I guess I was the only one. But I don't care, I wanted to remember that day forever!
Kenli's birthday was also that day. Needless to say, she had a busy, busy day. She loved every minute of it. But now I wonder if she'll expect her birthday and the first day of school to always be on the same day.
A quick shot of the birthday girl with her sissy. You can't see it in this picture, but Keira was sporting Kenli's new KU sweatshirt and Kenli tried on her new, pretty dress.

Offended

Like most people in the U.S. not from Alaska, I don't know much about Sarah Palin; but what I do know, I don't much care for. Most of the bad feelings I have about her bloomed last night as I watched her deliver her speech at the RNC.

When she claimed that Obama didn't have responsibilities like a mayor does, I laughed at her. Let's just examine one thing a young 22yr old Obama did fresh out of college. He was hired as a community organizer and he was the only one on staff with a $50,000 budget. Fast forward two years and he is working as one of 13 on staff with a budget, oh say somewhere near $700,000. Yep, looks like he had no responsibilities. I believe Palin was competing in pageants in her early 20s. Put that in your book, Palin.

Something else I've come to realize about our young beauty queen is that she seems to believe in her way or the highway. Now, call me crazy, but I like candidates who listen to people and at least take into consideration what they want before deciding on the action to take. You won't find that with Palin. Nope, if she doesn't like you, you are outta here.

I'm still researching and digging up information, but I find one thing very sick and offensive. This woman, as mayor of Podunkville- I mean Wasilla, Alaska, tried to fire the town librarian because she did not support Palin's administration. And by "support Palin's administration" I mean, she wanted the poor librarian canned for fighting back when Palin ordered her to pull possibly offensive material off the shelves. That, my friends, is a big no-no in my book. The librarian was just doing her job by keeping those books on the shelves. Ms. Mayor has no business deciding whether or not I or my child may read a certain book. I believe that is MY decision. I don't know just who she thinks she is. I understand that she wanted the "expert" in this scenario to pull the books- so at least she wasn't trying to do it herself. But seriously, I'm glad that librarian tried to put her in her place. And of course, since she put up a fight, the mayor tried to fire her. Lesson learned- agree with Palin or there will be trouble. Come on people, we don't need someone like that as America's VP. And let's not even get into her abortion beliefs-- oh no wait- let's do.

This psycho is not only against women's rights, but she insists that if a woman is raped or impregnated by a family member, she is to not have the right to an abortion. AHHH!!! I could just verbally beat her for her idiotic ideas.


I don't want a VP who thinks that because something is wrong for her or her family, it must be wrong for the rest of America. Let parents pull books out of their children's hands- don't let the mayor try to tell you what to do on that one. Let women get an education about their options in pregnancy and let the decision be theirs- especially when there is rape or incest involved.
And for God's sake, don't beat down the better candidate just because you have no platform.

Thank you, and God Bless America

Our Labor Day Weekend

A little Pow-wow fun

The girls loved watching the dancers and Keira even kept beat with her hands. But it was HOT!! I'm pretty sure the back of my pants caught on fire while I stood and watched the dancers. Needless to say, we didn't stay in one spot very long. We got up to visit the various vendors, and for the first time in history I didn't get my beloved Indian Taco. I was still too full from lunch. Matt didn't even get one for me to snag a few bites from (which is always my back up plan). But there's always the Art Show in Lawrence-and they always have yummy Indian Tacos.

We also had my sister-in-law and her little one at our house most of the weekend. Those four Copeland girls are so fun when they're together and they really feed off of each other. We were able to get all four of them in my bathtub and that was a hoot. All of that cuteness splish-splashing in one tub was too much.

See, I told you.

And of course, we almost had a little celebration for Kaelyn. It looked as if she wanted to start crawling, but NOPE. The girl is a tease. She made me get my camera ready, and then she just hammed it up. Little stinker.

And Then There Were Three...

So many meanings to that title. Today, my eldest baby is 3 years old. Three years ago today, Matt and I saw the miracle that made us a family of 3 for the first time. In the next two years, we added two more little girls- 3 in total. 3 is a good number.

Three years ago, I was shaking and crying in the LMH parking lot. My heart was racing as were my thoughts- I was about to endure the scary process of induction. My mind was too focused on the journey and not on the prize at the end of that journey. My husband and mother dragged me into the hospital and I pondered all the ways my life was about to change.

In the immediate future, I would be experiencing what most women call "the worst pain of my life-" I wasn't ready for that change. I enjoyed being pregnant. Now I was actually in the hospital room getting ready to change into the gown I'd be wearing when I met my first born. It took nine months for this moment to arrive, and then it suddenly snuck up on me and went too fast. All this change was overwhelming. But when I was faced with the option of going home without giving birth, I began to focus on the prize.

I wanted to look at my daughter's face. I wanted to see that mystery of a human who had spent the last nine months growing safely in my belly. I needed to hold her. To stare at her. To look her over and count her toes. I needed my baby.

I stayed that night in the hospital and experienced "the worst pain of my life." It became obvious around 1 am that sleep was not in my near future-but pitocin was. The not-so gradual increase in pain sent me into a daze. I said things I don't remember- but my husband reminds me of some obscenities that flew out of my mouth. I do, however, remember one thing said to me- "You're my hero!" Thank you, Matt. That one comment made a big difference, and it's one of the only things I remember prior to that yummy epidural.

19 hours into labor- the man of my dreams came into the room. After the nasty, long needle came out of my back, I instantly felt better. I could finally relax. I could once again focus on my mystery human. Is she a red head? Will she have my eyes? My husbands height? Will she be a teacher or a lawyer? Will I figure out how to raise a child without an instruction book?

My mind fast-forwards 6 hours to the moment I first saw her "cheesy," squirming body enter this world. Her eyes were closed and her face was wrinkled. She looked wet. She looked absolutely beautiful. I screamed and cried, "That's my baby!" as I reached out my arms to cradle her tiny body. My mystery was now lying across my chest, quietly resting with her eyes wide open. "She's so alert," I thought.

We had a few moments together to stare each other in the eyes. It felt as if I had always known her. My past life instantly became a distant memory as I anticipated the new life we'd soon start as a family of three.

The nurses lifted her off of me and I watched as they walked her to the warming table. Somebody pointed out that Kenli had pooped allover my arm. I laughed and thought, "Wow, she really welcomed me to motherhood." Once I realized my daughter was actually here, that change I had feared so much seemed natural and normal. Not scary at all.

Kenli, Matt and I got to know each other better over the next few days we spent in the hospital. I cherish that time. I focused all of my attention on that little girl who was evolving from a mystery to a completely unique human that my husband and I created. She wasn't just a dream anymore, she was as real as real can get.

Over the next three years we watched our tiny little seven pound, spiky-haired princess turn into a petite, red head with tons of spunk. We encouraged her first giggles, army crawl, and steps. We laughed with her when she was tickled. We cried with her when she was hurt. We enjoyed welcoming two new babies with her. We grew up with her.

Kenli, I love you for all that you are, all that you have been, and all that you will be. I love your caring spirit. Your curiosity. The silly things you say. Your strong-willed spirit. The way you tell me good night. The way you play with your sisters. The way you sneak cupcakes off of the counter, show me that you did, and then wait for my response. You are my firstborn and my first baby love. Your spirit is alive in me and that makes me a better person. Thank you, most of all, for just being you.

All of my love forever and ever,

Mommy