Tag Archives: abby june

face time

I’ve been scouring my albums (yes, albums… because nothing was digital then) for photos of junior high and high school.  It turns out, 95% of those photos are out of focus and awkward photos of not me- but the people I went to junior high and high school with.  The other 5% are family holiday photos of me and my brother… me always on the left and him always on the right… him with his eyes closed and me in the middle of talking.

How was history ever recorded before everyone had photoshop and the shaky-hand-fixer feature?

That timeline post will happen Monday, when I have a little more time to scratch out some meaningful memories and photos from that time that do not make me cry.

And then Thursday we’re gonna talk about sand.  Try to contain yourselves.

For today, to get you through the weekend, I give you my children.  Sometimes, when I look closely at the pictures I managed to grab in the middle of chaos, I choke up a bit.  These kiddos are gorgeous.

And insane.

Gus Man:

Rylie Girl:

Abby June:

… who gets 3 pics because she’s my favorite this week.

Happy weekend to you all!

See you Monday!

these are the days

Miss Abby June, you are 5 months old.  You are 13 pounds and 23 inches long.  You have grey/yellow/hazel eyes and some of your hair is white.  It matches your skin.  White.  Like yer daddy’s.

Your belly button smiles. You still wake up twice a night to eat, though you (we) have stopped nursing as of last week.  You are rolling over both ways, smiling, yelling, growling, but not eating solids yet… and we’re good with that. You are constantly in motion… twitching and rolling and kicking and swatting.  More of yer Daddy.

You are so loved and adored, Abby June!  You ride with us, walk with us, eat with us, chase cows with us, and basically anything else this farm throws your way.  You, my dear, are up for anything.  Go with the flow.  Easy come, easy go.  On it.  (That’s your mom in you.)

You are my love.

If your gate swings that way, here’s a video of the girl babbling.
Happy Monday, Friends!

[My heart.]

postcards from Texas

We’re headed home to Michigan!  We had to leave the grandparents and racecars and billy goats there, so the van is sad.  But we’ll pick up Blue on the way and that is helping to keep the wailing at bay.  We’ll see you on Monday!  Thanks for coming with us on vacation 🙂

I feel pretty.

In a rare moment of humility, I rested my head on The Boy’s shoulder and said, “I want to thank you for being so kind about my clothing lately.”

Not knowing to just leave well-enough alone he asked, “Whatever do you mean, Fairest?” (or something close)

“You know.  How I wear the same clothes every day… usually after sleeping in them.”


“Well,” he said, “I know it’s a crazy phase of life right now.”


“And I know that phase will end.”


“And I reserve the right to mention when I think you’ve past the end.”

I do, Folks.  I do sometimes sleep in my clothes.  My time is never guaranteed in the mornings… who knows when  a tantrum or diaper or fire will cut into prep time?  I figure clothed-but-possibly-slept-in is always a better option in the carpool lane than naked.

Comfort, warmth, and *ahem* accessibility are the main requirements of my wardrobe.  Since leaving my Jordache Jeans behind in elementary school, I have lived in the sporty/bohemian world of  fashion.  Having babies only sent me further into Casual Land.  Everyone needs a little boost now and then, and I do love me some dresses and skirts in fine weather.  Right now, though, that little June Bug up there is keeping me in the yoga pants and Lycra.  She is so cute.  I forgive her for my thighs.  I do.

[favorites: Patagonia, Title Nine, Athleta, Sundance, Garnett Hill]

Please send me one of everything from Sundance, m’kay?  I could live in that catalog.

Mandi is on a mission to update her closet.  Give her some places you love to shop for good, quality, non-mom type duds.

MC is on bed-rest waiting out Sam’s delivery… and we’re all hoping for later rather than sooner.  If you have a minute, head on over and say hello to the girl.  Her chronicles are smart and hilarious, and I’m sure you have some stories of your own to share that will help her pass the remaining time.

Happy weekend, Folks!  

We love you here at TexasNorth!

Miss Abby comes to town

Abby June arrived, as scheduled, on December 15, 2011.  This was my third c-section and, quite honestly, the roughest.  Gracious.  Nothing like 5 years of scar tissue to make things interesting.  I am assured it was all completely necessary.  My doctor told me (as they were stitching me back together… which, when you think about it, is a terrible time to have a conversation) that I was nowhere near ready ‘naturally.’ No signs of labor, nothin’.  I am nothing if not consistent.

I so very much wish I had taken a picture of Dr. I for you… my anesthesiologist.  She was lucky to be 5 feet tall, short hair you couldn’t see under her cap, and a t h i c k Russian accent.  I question, honestly, whether she is employed by the hospital OR, in fact, the FBI.  She carried only a pen and a paper… no chart, no needles, no doctor things.  And she barked questions to me that made me both giggly and terrified at the same time.

Name? (Mary Kathryn Mulder)

[scribble scribble scribble]

Allergies? (no)

Heart disease? (no)

Cancer? (no)

Thyroid problems? (no)

Family? (yes… lots of family)

[sigh] [reverse scribble]

Thyroid issues IN YOUR FAMILY? (sorry, no)

Open your mouth. (?)


WIDER.  (I can’t.)

You can’t? (I can’t.)


[more angry scribble]

Stick with me, Folks.  I meet the craziest people.  I don’t know how they find me but they do.

Curt and I right before we donned our awesome blue scrubs and hair nets.

It took Abby forever to cry.  I even had to ask, “She’s not crying.  Is everything ok?”  The doctor laughed and said, “Yep- she’s fine!  Completely fine and content.”  And she’s been that way ever since.

Rylie and Gideon came up the first night to see their new sister.

Gus was super pumped about her hat.  It was a winner.

Seriously… she favors Linguini from Ratatouille, no?  It’s ok for you to agree.

She is, as she was inside, completely calm.  Chill.  She looks like Rylie a little… and Gus a little… but she truly has her own thing goin’ on.  She started nursing in the recovery room and never looked back.  There’s still the mystery of breast-feeding, though.  How much are they getting? Is it enough?  According to her diapers, absolutely.  According to her weight gain, no.  So, we press on and add a bottle of formula here and there to make up some slack.  But mostly, we just press on because there is no time for dawdling anymore.

All in all, I’d say we’re running at 90% capacity.  Happy.  Healthy.  Three kids who haven’t seriously injured each other- yet.  Makin’ it work.

I am blessed.

Tricia, Darling, you won the baby pool!  You knew that.  Nice job.  Email or Facebook me your mailing address and I’ll send off your prize 🙂

The Baby is Here ………………………

Kates  dad here …………………….

Welcome this morning  Abigail June Mulder…..

6lb  2 oz  20 inches long ,

At  9:48  am ….

Mom and baby are doing well ……………..

Mom is resting …..


It’s almost time, which is ridiculous.  While on my blog walk-a-bout, I managed to gain 12 weeks in my pregnancy and now- as of today exactly- we are only 5 weeks away from delivery.  Sunnuva.

Little Mulder’s birth has been scheduled (yep) for December 15, 2011 around 9am.  This link will take you to bebepool.com (no account necessary) where you can lay your claim to the unknown details of Kiddo 3.  Wanna play?  Sure you do.  Help us with some names while you’re at it.  The scoring is serious, Peeps… it’s all mathematical and SAT-ish, so don’t leave anything blank.  Of course- of course– there will be a winner and a prize.  You’ll just have to stick it out until after Christmas for your winnings.

[happy clap and a little squeal]

It’s kind of exciting.

Now, we’re not going to talk about my hair, ok?  It was pouring rain and the humidity and I broke up when I was about three.  BUT, you will undoubtedly want some info before making your bets.  So… here I am at about 34 weeks.  I’ve gained 25 pounds (which is 25 less than with Gus and about 10 less than with Rylie… the nurse is so proud of me and I don’t have the heart or energy to explain this has likely been my WORST pregnancy diet ever).  I’m measuring 1 week behind, as I have with the other two.  Little is very active… not as rolly as Ry but not as psycho punchy as Gus.  Massive addiction to chocolate and cravings for salami sandwiches.  I feel great… very tired.  Starting to get to the achy-sore part, but my other two children have played major roles in that area.

Ry was 10 days late, 6 pounds 9 ounces, and 20 inches long.

Gus was scheduled (39 weeks), 7 pounds 13 ounces, and 21 inches long.

Me?  I have absolutely no clue, intuition, or 6th sense about this one.  No dreams, no feelings, no Mom Knowledge.  It’s a little weird.  We’re flying blind.

Now, hop on over to the poll and get ‘ta guessin’!

Hey… thanks for all your kind words about my return to Blog Land.  You are all so very… lovely.  Yes. Lovely.

the rest of the story

It is so. stinkin’. FUN. to celebrate with you people.  Truly.  Thank you for all the cheers Thursday. I’m due December 20.  I’ll go a week early for a c-section.  We will not be finding out if Little is a he or a she beforehand… so we’re all in the same boat here except I get the night sweats and you get the laughs, ok?

Speaking of…

It was March 15.  I thought, to be quite frank, that this would finally be the day I ended up on national news for locking my children out of the house, booking a one-way ticket to Jamaica, or accidentally (?) poisoning dinner.  I was dangerously close to needing an emotional intervention and possibly some physical restraints.  I emailed friends. I cried. I gnashed my teeth.

The emails poured in… “hang in there”, “parenting/wife-ing is a marathon not a sprint”, “do you need me to bring you a Dr. Pepper?” God bless you all. Everyone.

Exactly 1.5 hours later, for the first time in 2 years due to pregnancy and nursing, I started my period.

To you of the ‘stronger’ gender who do not know this disphoria… this absolute mania that comes along with the abillity to grow A LIFE IN YOUR WOMB… yes, it is a blessing.  An honor.  And, every month, you think you are absolutely losing your mind for no apparent reason other than the entire world hates you. Every. Single. Time.

Content that I was not destined for an early check-in at the loony bin (this time), life carried on and even, I dare say, got better.

Until sometime later when The Husband returned home from work extremely cheerful.  He was whistling (which I loathe) and hug-gy (which I discourage) and generally jovial (which is… annoying).  As he chewed his rice (loudly) at dinner, I silently considered kicking him in the knee and running out the front door. He smiled sincerely, “Rough day?”  *sigh*

I realize, I am a JOY.

This odd and specific rage was remotely familiar to me and I pushed back my chair to take a deep breath, refill my drink, and check the calendar.  I was shocked to realize I was more than a week ‘late’… though I hardly thought things would be back on track so soon after a 2-year biological hiatus.

As he cleared the table, I excused myself to the restroom where I located a lone pregnancy test in a blank wrapper at the very back of the cabinet.  Three minutes later, I had one blue line in each window.  But- no box. No instructions.  No key to the puzzle.


I stomped into the kitchen.  “I think I’m pregnant.  I’m not sure because this test is old and I can’t remember the rules, but I think I’m pregnant.”

Curt, still holding a plate, was stunned.  “Excuse me? What does this mean?  This line… this negative line is a POSITIVE test?  What does this mean?”


Days later, I called my conscience in Texas. “So, I might be pregnant but the test I took didn’t have any instructions.  What’s your gut?”  Ever the sanity in my life, she instructed me to go to the store and buy another test. “And then call me immediately.”

So, I did… because by this time I was nothing if not curious.

Twenty plus three minutes later (with a 4 year-old audience), I was staring at a faint positive.

Twenty plus FOUR minutes later, the 4 year-old emerged from the bathroom with bare buns and the extra pregnancy test.

“Did you use this?” I asked.

“Mom.  On.  Me. Pee Pee. Me.” she replied.


Ry’s test was negative, just to be clear.

Nearly one month after the first questionably positive test, I called my OB to set up an appointment.  The nurse asked, of course, when my last period was… which I absolutely knew to be March 15.  “Well!” she replied, “Usually we hear from folks sooner!  We’d like to see you sometime this week since you’re already 10 weeks pregnant.”

Yes, well… there’s a story there.  Some denial and some procrastination and also some other minor complications.  But that is neither here nor there. Sometimes, this is just how it happens.

I confess I took one more test the day before my appointment out of complete and total fear that I would show up and be 100% NOT pregnant and then have to explain why I thought I WAS.  I took the third and final test alone and without anyone knowing.

It was positive immediately, and -alone- I smiled whole-heartedly.

Little, you punched the air and did a flip when the ultrasound shed its light on you at our first appointment.  You’re going to fit in here just fine.  Take your time and grow strong.  We cannot wait to meet you! 

Christmas will come early

Dear Rylie and Gideon,

It would appear that your parents have learned no healthy fear from the past… from emergency c-sections, from scary developmental diagnoses, from miscarriage, from in-utero diagnoses, from 5 months of colic hell,

from ANYTHING, really…

It would appear that your parents are still optimists when it comes to Littles, and that’s why I am so very happy to tell you both that…

It would appear, if science and God can work it out, you will be joined by another Little Mulder around December 20th of this year.

No- we do not currently have the appropriate car, bedroom, or dining room situation to make this happen smoothly.

Please see the above ‘optimism’ explanation.


Mom (and, in part, Dad)

PG13 version coming Monday.  Stay tuned.