B.Y. (N)U.

So, I thought people might like to see some new things happening at BYU!

Take, for example, the library.  I first went in the library at BYU probably more than 40 years ago. All the walls were the whitish color they have always been. But not anymore! During the Christmas break, the facilities people (headed by Jeff Belliston) surprised us with color-coded floors. So...for your viewing pleasure...

Level one, south stairwell, looking into the section that is closed to the public, where the storage books are housed in compact shelving...

 and on the north end of the building, in the section between the old and new parts of the building...

Both of these level one places have the same color of paint--the lighting makes them appear different from each other in these pictures.

On up the stairs to level two...this shot looks into the area where they play quiet music, on the way to both library receiving and to library IT.

 The wall between the old and new parts of the library...

 The back door to David's (former) office in Science and Maps...

Next, level 3. The hallway to the circulation area's back door. There used to be two doors down this hall...due to remodeling, now there is only one.

And in the south stairwell...

Up to level 4, the level where I work in Music and Dance, and where Josie works in the Media Center...here is the south stairwell...

 And outside the elevator near my office...

Up to level 5...the south stairwell...

Even level 6, technical services, received a coat of paint. It looks gray...

Notice that even the drinking fountain is the same color as the walls. You will have to take my word for it that the drinking fountains in the south stairwells are respectively rust, blue, yellow, green or orange. HOWEVER...the paint is not called by boring names like that. Their names are so exotic that I can't even remember them!  For example, the color name for the paint on level four doesn't even include the word green.

So...we are now working in a much more colorful library than ever before!

And that is not the only change in store at BY(N)U. They have just announced (not to the employees, mind you, but to the city planners. I read about it in the Daily Herald first.) plans to close campus drive and turn parts of the road into green space and pedestrian spaces.

I have to say that I am a bit worried about how parking will be impacted by the change.  And people like my colleague Steve are worried about how it will impact people who commute by bus, and people who ride their bikes to school or work.  The Provo Mayor blogs, so you can read more here.

Fun travels April 25-29, 1983

Don't worry--we all managed to dry our tears and have some fun on our adventure as we traveled the freeway from the very bottom of the US to the very top...

We did some desert exploring in Nevada...

Kelli and Abbi, 25 April 1983.

The girls got in some fine jumping. As Kelli expressed in her journal of 25 April, in Utah "Everybody has a trampoline, and I love to jump on them!"  Abbi loved it, too.

Abbi and Kelli jumping at Grandpa and Grandma Layton's house, 25 April 1983.

On April 27, we visited Layton cousins:

Jessi and Kelli, with Jenny behind them. Jessi and Jenny are Uncle Ken's daughters.

At Uncle Bob's house: Tara, Abbi, Kelli and Tyler Layton.

Uncle Bob had built a double rocking creature. Here Tara and Kelli try it out. I have a picture somewhere of Bob and Bruce riding it. I need to find it!

 On April 28, we visited the Phillips cousins:

Myron, Abbi, Marianne, Michael holding David, and Kelli.

Kelli lucked out, because Marianne took the opportunity of our visit to give her a pair of outgrown roller skates, which Kelli was delighted to receive.

Regret

Have you ever looked back at your life, and been able to jab your finger at one spot on your timeline, and say "There. This is what I regret"? I have certainly made my share of mistakes, and hopefully have grown from them, and been able to move on. But when I look back at 1983, the month of April is the moment in time that I wish I could go back and do over.

Even though it is a big empty place in the journal--I know; I remember.

Sometime in 1983 after David was born, our application for Bruce and the girls to immigrate to Canada was approved.

We didn't really have firm plans about moving, but it was just kind of there, as an option.  I loved living in California in the land of no winter. It was heavenly to me, because I really, really hate winter.  But, having had no winter for several years, I think I had forgotten just how bitterly cold winters really can be.

And then, as I said in the last post, adjusting to the new baby was hard. At the time, it seemed like it had been so long since I had seen my parents, and I felt like I needed to live closer to my mom.  My sister Arlene told me to just go and visit them, if I missed them. But I felt like it was too expensive: that the cost of going for a visit and the cost of moving were equal, so we should just move. Now, I look back, and seriously, our parents visited us ALL THE TIME! They would come and stay for two or three weeks at a time--they had just left sometime after March 19, which was not long ago at all.  But it felt like forever to me.

And then there was the awfulness of David's birth, which was the second birth I had seen up close and personal in California. The first had been Arlene's Lance--who had to be life-flighted to another hospital. Arlene's experience and mine were both pretty horrible. I just didn't want to have another baby in California, because I assumed that it was ALWAYS horrible to have a baby there. And I did want to have another baby at some point--just not there. And the medical "system" exasperated me so much. I really, really, missed Alberta Health Care, which seemed so much better (because it was, frankly.)

Also, I was so tired of feeling poor. In retrospect, we were not THAT poor--we would find out in Alberta what poor really was!--but it felt like it to me. Mainly because we had spent the years we lived in California paying off the debts of Bruce's first marriage.  It felt like such a heavy burden to me. (Though, our Bishop, Bishop Russell commented to me once that we had been blessed to pay off a tremendous amount of debt in just a few short years. I can see that now, but I couldn't see it then.) We had paid everyone except the IRS. And they kept on tacking on interest and penalties. We paid, and paid and paid them. They really made me sort of hate the United States.

So...we made plans to leave. Stupid, stupid, stupid.  We had an awesome place to live. Yes, our house felt a bit small since the new baby came. But had we toughed it out for a bit longer, we could have moved into the other house in our yard, the three bedroom one. Which only cost $100 more per month than the one we were in.  Bruce was attending Grossmont College on the GI bill. By moving to Canada, we gave that up. Kelli was in a wonderful school, where she was in kindergarten but doing first grade work. She was utterly happy and adequately challenged at school. We lived in a great neighborhood, had a great ward, good friends. I had a full piano studio.  Bruce's job had become iffy (the company was sold, and that meant a lot of lay-offs) but we had a network, and he would have been able to find something.

But it was like, once my mind was made up to move, I just would not change it.  I cried while cleaning and packing; the girls cried while playing with their friends for one last time. Kelli cried saying good-bye to her teacher.  On our last day, we had lunch at Auntie Arlene's, and all the girls were in tears the whole time we were there. Arlene, Jenna, Kelli, Abbi and I were all crying as if our hearts would break.

We got in the truck we had rented--we were towing our car behind.  No seat belt laws, so all five of us in the cab of the truck. And we cried and cried as we drove out of San Diego, on the freeway towards LA and when we were heading through the desert, we were still crying. Bruce would say, "Do you want me to go back?" And I did! And the girls did!  But "No, we are moving. It will be fine," I would say. But I really didn't feel fine. I wanted to go back!

When we had left, we took our house key to the Quicks. They weren't home, so we gave the key to their son-in-law. Bruce said, "We can just go back and get the key to the house and move back in." (Our rent was paid to the end of the month anyway, and it was only April 24.) It was shear pride that kept me from saying, "Yes! Turn around!"

I worried about what our landlords would think, about what our parents would think, about what Kelli's school would think, about what all our friends would think...so stupid!

My mother had BEGGED me not to move to Canada. She told me she loved me and would like it if we lived closer, but seriously, "YOU HATE IT HERE" she told me. She reminded me that MY WHOLE LIFE I had HATED winter. And Alberta is, let's face it, mostly winter. But I said, "No, it isn't that bad. I like it there just fine." But actually, she was right, and I should have listened to her.

I think that I probably had postpartum depression pretty bad. But I don't think that anyone even knew what that was back then.  I was probably in no state of mind to make a rational decision, and my husband was happy to stay or to move, and just was willing to try to make me happy.

And so we get the only April journal entry from Kelli, in her own handwriting, and it says:

Friday, April 22 was Kelli's last day of school. There was Spring Break the next week, so it seemed like a logical time to move. (Logical to a crazy person, at least.) I took a picture of Kelli with her teacher and teacher's aide that day.

Mrs. Anita Gerdes, Kelli and Miss Nancy Roche. I don't think Kelli really understood that she would not see these wonderful ladies again.

On Saturday April 23, my friend Linda Hill took all three of the kids, and I finished the cleaning and packing while Bruce worked his last day at Visutron.

On Sunday April 24, we went to church, went and visited our neighbors, and then drove to Arlene's for the tearful lunch before setting out.

We say goodbye to our nice neighbors, Ted and Dorothy Walker.

To my family, I say I am so sorry. That was not a good move for our family. We moved from a situation we were really quite happy with to one where Bruce's school and work possibilities were severely diminished, where Kelli went from being happy at school to quite miserable. Abbi did fine in Alberta, except that the darkness in the winter made her really tired.  We did get better medical care, that is for sure, and we did have more children. But on balance, even after 30 years, I feel only sadness and regret about the decision to leave California.

I really am so very sorry about it.

The end of March 1983

March 20th 1983, I sang at a concert with the Stake Relief Society Chorus. The opening number was a group of eight women singing "The Circle of a Woman's Reach" and I was one of the eight. In the audience:
Auntie Arlene: Kelli, can you see your mom?
Kelli: Yes! She's the one without the glasses.
And there stood eight women, none with glasses on! Of course, since I usually did wear glasses, and had taken them off so the lights wouldn't glare off them, I really looked different to Kelli!

[I loved singing with this group. It was such fun. There was a nursery, and they weren't just babysitting: they had fun activities planned for the children. Kelli and Abbi loved going to it! Sometimes, we practiced during the week, so then only Abbi went with me. Other times, it was on Saturday mornings, so both girls went. I only missed one rehearsal, the day that David was born.]

March 25th, 1983 -- Kelli played the piano for our ward talent show. She played "Man in the Moon" and "The Party". She was completely relaxed and at ease, and did an excellent job. She got a lot of compliments, and so did Bruce and I!

March 26th, 1983-- We really didn't have a very good day today. It has been rather difficult adjusting to having sweet little David around. He has so much trouble sleeping, and our house is so small, that poor Kelli & Abbi seem to always be waking him up. At the end of the day, as Kelli (who had been sick today, too) was going to bed, she said, "I feel like a piece of junk!" I asked her why, and she said, "Because you guys have been treating me like a piece of junk." Mommy and Daddy both felt very sad to hear Kelli say that. The last few weeks have been so hard on all of us. Hopefully it will get better! I realized that, as we prepared the girls for the birth of the baby, we never thought to say how small and fragile he would be. Kelli was certainly looking forward to having a new sibling to play with, and David is just too small! But soon he'll be big enough!

----And then I did not write in the journal again for a month.  It was super hard adjusting to having a third child. First of all, it had been my first pregnancy and childbirth, and I had no clue what I was doing. I just thought I would have a baby and bounce back to normal.  My girls were busy, with lots of fun things to learn and do, and then...total change. I did NOT bounce back. I did not feel well. And, though I had always had confidence in myself, in my ability to get along well with children--I had never given birth before or dealt with the 24/7 feeding and care of a newborn. And I was really not good at it. Add postpartum hormones, and I was a basket case.  I felt like my baby did not like me, because he cried and screamed so much. Eudora Quick and her mother-in-law would take pity on me, and come over and hold David to give me a break and allow me some time with the girls. And they would cuddle him up to their soft shoulders and ample bosoms, and he would stop crying and relax, and then I would take him and he would hit his head on my bony shoulder and the crying would begin again.  We had a hard time adjusting to each other, and the whole family felt the stress of it.  I had not looked it up yet, so I did not realize that a birth adds almost as much stress as a death to family dynamics. So I thought there was something wrong with me--I felt like suddenly I was a bad, incompetent mother. It was a very hard time.

March 5 and 6 and more, 1983

I found some photos that were out of place in the journal, so they get their own post. None of this commentary was written in 1983; it all is coming from my memory.

March 5 was a Saturday. I am sure we had fun that day, doing something. I remember that we drove to Auntie Arlene's house, but that Grandpa Layton didn't want to drive the big van up the narrow driveway, so we parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up. I thought that I could do it, and I did, but it was not a good idea. That hill was a bit much for someone who had just had a huge episiotomy a week earlier. The uphill walk made me not only really sore and tender, but also sick and nauseated. I was really overdoing it, but I didn't realize it until I was halfway up the hill.

Here is a picture from that day, taken at our house. Grandma L is rocking a 'fro!

5 March 1983: Wayne and Evon in back ; Abbi, Kelli and David in front.

Grandma and Grandpa Layton and Cory had driven down in their big van, pulling their trailer. They parked in our yard, which was of ample size for them to camp there. Also, they brought Afton Kranendonk, their neighbor at home in Rose Park who was coincidentally the sister of our landlady, Eudora Quick. The Quicks were happy to have Afton there to visit!

They arrived in the evening, after Kelli and Abbi were already asleep. Bruce was at work. (Visutron, his employer, was open 24/7. So that night, he was working the 4 pm to midnight shift.) I think it was about ten pm when they arrived. I heard them drive into the yard, and I was glad they were there, but a bit worried. Because I had just gotten David to sleep, something he was not good at doing. David was a most stressed-out baby, very prone to crying. A lot. The poor guy. Anyways, Grandma and Grandpa came and knocked at our door.  And in his big booming voice, Grandpa said, "Where's my grandson?" And I said, "He is asleep, so can we please just leave him in his bed? Please don't pick him up." But Grandpa said, "I just drove hundreds of miles and I want to hold my grandson!"

And so David got up. And Grandpa and Grandma held him until they were ready to go to bed in their trailer, and then I was left with David to put to sleep again.  He cried and cried and cried. I cried and cried and cried. We were both up crying when Bruce got home from work at midnight.

March 6 was David's blessing day. He was following the example of Jesus, receiving a blessing when 8 days old! (Which was totally an unplanned coincidence, I might add. It was just that both sets of grandparents were in California with us, so it was a good time for the blessing.)  So we took advantage of the opportunity to take photos.  Some of them are really nice, like this picture of Kelli:

Kelli on 6 March 1983.

 Others were less flattering, like this one. In which everyone looks less than their best, except for Grandpa Layton. And it is a really great picture of him! So, it is worth keeping! Cory looks nice, too. And Kelli looks like she is wondering what is going on somewhere.  We get a nice profile view of Evon's hair, and Abbi ...well... the camera caught her at an awkward moment.

6 March 1983: Evon holding David, Kelli, Cory, Abbi, and Wayne Layton.

And one of the three children:

6 March 1983: Kelli, David and Abbi Layton.

Grandpa and Grandma Layton left for home the next morning, but Grandpa and Grandma Conrad stuck around for another week.

The next day, March 7, we took David to our pediatrician, Dr. Garry Cameron, for David's circumcision. (Had he really been following the example of Jesus, as described in Luke 2, that would have happened WITH his blessing.)  From that day, I just remember that the doctor took David alone, and mom and I and the girls were in the waiting room trying to act like we weren't all worried about David, who was screaming his head off, and then suddenly he screamed the most awful scream. My mom couldn't stand it anymore, and went and talked to the nurse about what was happening to David. She learned that baby boys were not anesthetized at all for their little operation. Poor David. First a traumatic birth, and now this!

Something else happened during the next week. Can you tell what it was?

13 March 1983: Arnold C., Abbi, Pearl C., Kelli, Bruce holding David.

Did you guess that Kelli and Abbi got haircuts?

March 1983

March 3, 1983 -- For the last month, Kelli's class at school has been learning about the heart. They have been doing a lot of exercising and jogging and learning about good food and how we shouldn't smoke in order to have a healthy body. Today, her class put on a performance. I was disappointed not to be able to go (five days post-baby) but Abbi and Grandma C. went to watch her. Kelli had to say a line for the program that went "If you get too fat, your heart has to work much harder." Grandma thought it was a really good program. Then, Kelli took Abbi and Grandma back to her classroom and showed them her work. It was a special day for Kelli.

Kelli received a certificate for outstanding jogging. Her heart rate: resting was 72, exercise was 138.

Note from today: I am pretty sure that I still have the music from this program. The only song I can remember, which was Kelli's favorite--oh, the irony--goes like this:

Smoke is no joke; smoking is a terrible habit.
Smoking is bad for a woman or man, or a kid or a chicken or a rabbit.
Don't smoke--be smart--
Unless you want an unhappy heart.
With fingers and teeth all stained pretty bad,
And a cough and a choke that gets other folks mad.
Be good to yourself,
Don't puff puff till you croak,
It's crazy to start what's on good for your heart!
Smoke...is no joke!

Yuppers. We sang that a lot when our kids were young...

March 9 -- Today, Kelli and Jenna got to go to Bancroft School in Spring Valley to put on a performance of excerpts from "The King and I". Grandma C. went and watched and said they did very well!

March 19 -- Finally, after six months of rehearsal (which I never mentioned before in my oh-so-careful (not) journaling) the big night arrived. Kelli's "Anna and the King of Siam" performance rolled around. Kelli looked so nice in her costume. She did a really good job in all her appearances on stage. She sang nicely and bowed so nicely. We were very proud of her.

My mom was the only one who took pictures, I guess...Well, perhaps Arlene and Michael did, but I only have some that were in my mom's pictures. I left a blank space in the journal for pictures, but never added any. Good thing I can add them here!

Can you spot Kelli and Jenna? The second and third girls in blue from the left (on the front row) whose hands are in namaste position.

Kelli is the only one on the front row with her hands still up; Jenna is still beside her.

Kelli --wow--she could really keep those hands up!

Jenna and Kelli in costume.

Rosie's birthday

Rosie turned 16 today, and we had fun celebrating her birthday.

Her birthday party was on Friday, but I didn't take any pictures, since Andrew was wandering around being the photographer. It looked like she and her friends were having a lot of fun, though! And Rosie's favorite present was that her mom (Kelli) and her step-mom (Mary) were nice to each other. (Kelli had supplied the pizza and pop, and Mary the cakes--two homemade and delicious cheesecakes and a bigger regular cake.)

Rosie had been asking for a hula hoop for her birthday, and her friend Christine got one for her. Christine tied a ribbon around it, and just carried it looking like a hula hoop with a ribbon tied around it. But when Rosie was unwrapping the presents, she said, "I wonder what this is?" and then untied the ribbon.  When she "opened" the gift, she shrieked and jumped up and down saying, "Oh, a hula hoop! Just what I wanted!" It was pretty funny. Should have filmed that little moment in time!

What I was doing was freaking out losing either my phone or the keys to the church (the event was at Aunt Judy's church) every couple of minutes--I was the most ditzy, confused person.

Rosie's actual birthday was today, and here are some pictures:

Back L-R: Grandma, Allen, Sabrina, Kelli, Olivia ; Front L-R: Rosie, Andrew, Matthew

Same as before, except for Rosie's friend Erika is beside Grandma.

Same as before, only now both Bruce and Erika are added.

Same as before, only Josie is now in the picture too. (Patrick was around, but sneakily missed the photo opportunity.)

Kelli, Allen and 5 goofy siblings

And goofier...

Kelli and the twinners, S on the L and O on the R

Ready to blow out the candles...

Everyone had a lot of fun using cameras and phones to take silly pictures.

Me taking a picture of Olivia getting ready to take a picture.

Kelli and her big kids getting ready to demonstrate just how short Josie is.

And the actual photo demonstrating Josie's shortness.

Andrew coaching his little sisters, getting ready to take pictures.

Josie, Olivia, and Matthew. Not sure what exactly is on Josie's mind...

Anyways...it was a good day. A fun time was had by all!

And...it's a boy!

February 26, 1983 -- Today something special happened! When Kelli and Abbi got up this morning, they found Grandma C. sleeping on the couch, and no Daddy and Mommy! When she [Kelli] found out Mommy had gone to the hospital to have the baby, she said, "Oh, I hope the doctor doesn't cut Mommy!" Grandpa and Grandma took Kelli & Abbi to Auntie Arlene's to play. At 1:28 in the afternoon, David was born. Kelli was excited to have a brother! She got to go to the hospital and look at her brother through the window in the nursery. She was a bit disappointed because she didn't get to see Mommy, though!

Baby David about 6 hours old, 26 February 1983

Back story: I had not easily gotten pregnant. I was in the middle of a fertility work-up with my OBGYN, Dr. Livingston, when I managed to get pregnant on my own. I went to the doctor for monthly visits, often taking Abbi with me, because we usually went while Kelli was at school. I remember that one day I was nakedish and waiting and waiting, and had to have the nurse phone the school that I would not be there on time to pick Kelli up. I think it was my friend Cathy Watt who picked her up instead, but she was having a bit of a freak-out for a few minutes.

For the first few months, I lost weight steadily. Arlene said that would happen to her, too, and what she did was go to Price Club and buy a whole case of Salted Nut Rolls, which she ate herself. So I followed that example and did the same thing. It didn't seem to make any difference. The food that I craved the most was strawberry yogurt, which was weird because strawberry was not a flavor of yogurt that I normally liked--I was more of a boysenberry yogurt lover. But with David, it was strawberry.

I had to go in for glucose testing, and failed the first glucose test spectacularly. Fortunately, I passed the second one. Phew.

I read copiously during the pregnancy, and was actually pretty horrified by all the intervention that routinely happens to women giving birth--I am sure that I must have said something to Bruce about some of my worries, and Kelli overheard, hence the worry she expressed about the doctor cutting me. (I am still horrified by it, and honestly--more of it seems to happen, and women seem to LIKE IT. I just don't get it--they would rather schedule their baby and be induced or have a c-section than let nature take its course? Well, I won't go there today, but it was important to me then.) Dr. Livingston had suggested that I could have the baby in a squatting position, which is what women had done for centuries before some idiot thought of putting women in the supine position. I don't remember what book it was in, but there was some king (of either England or France) who had many mistresses and got a charge out of watching them give birth, or so I read at the time. Obviously the king would have a better view if the woman was laid out in the position that we in the western world have come to associate with giving birth, although it is a completely ridiculous position.

When I had my last doctor appointment, all was well. The baby was due the first weekend in March. Dr. Livingston would be going on a fishing trip the last weekend in February, but I was told not to worry, because the baby hadn't dropped yet. As soon as he said that, I had an inkling that I would be having the baby while the doctor was gone.

I went into labour fully 28 hours before David was born, on February 25.  Since Dr. Livingston was away, I thought that I would just have the baby at home. I figured people had done it for centuries, so why not me? I was afraid to go in and have some other doctor deliver me, because I would not be able to get him or her to agree to the way Dr. Livingston and I had planned it. All day on Friday I laboured, walking and walking to try to get the labour to become more intense. That night, I thought I was going to die. I cried and cried. I couldn't sleep. The pain was excruciating. Finally, at about 3 or 4 AM, Bruce and I decided that I had better go to the hospital. Because I clearly was not at all prepared to just have the baby at home! I had no clue what I was doing!

My mom was there, but she didn't know what to do. She was a mother, but her babies were born in the lay them down and drug them era. She had not been awake enough for any of her own babies to know what to do. My dad, who had delivered many a calf, would probably have been a better midwife, but I didn't even ask him what he thought about the whole thing!

In the hospital, they immediately hooked me up to a monitor, and the labour got more intense, but I was not dilating. I had all this labour, but nothing was really happening, which is why they decided to give me an epidural.  My memories from that Saturday morning include: being so very thirsty, but I was not allowed to drink. They would just bring me ice, and I would suck on tiny ice cubes one after another. I went through many cups of ice. I felt abandoned: Bruce had to go and eat breakfast, and he was the only one allowed in with me, so that left me alone and scared. The epidural made me lose all feeling in the lower part of my body. I couldn't feel the labour, but I also couldn't feel anything, like my legs and feet, or any other part of my body.

The on-call doctor, Dr. Dym, was busy with one of his own patients who was delivering, so they kept making me wait. Finally, just before 1:30, I was in the delivery room having the baby.  They asked me if I needed to urinate, but I didn't know because I couldn't feel anything. They put in a catheter and drained my bladder. Then they told me that I was ready and needed to push, but I couldn't feel anything--how could I control a muscle that I did not feel? I had this really big Tongan nurse, and she folded her arms and pushed my baby out with her arms moving like a rolling pin on my stomach. That, of course, was after the doctor gave me a huge episiotomy. And he still had to use forceps to pull on David's head while the nurse was pushing him out.

Apparently my mother, who was there by then, having taken the girls to Arlene's, and was in the delivery room with Bruce and I, was turning green. It was not the most pleasant delivery, that is for certain.

Then they whisked the baby away, and took me to the recovery room. Where I had a terrible time trying to recover. I felt terrible. When I finally got feeling back, I knew that I needed to urinate most desperately. But the feeling in my legs was not back yet, and I could not walk to the bathroom. They brought a bed pan, but though I could feel the pressure, I did not have control of the regulating muscles yet, and I could not release them. It was agonizing. Finally, they put in a catheter again, and I completely filled, to the brim, the pan.  The medical staff were amazed because I had just been cathetered in the delivery room--so much urine! (I must have sucked on WAY more ice than anyone realized.)

Having that first baby was a really nasty experience, really, but all I wanted was that I wouldn't hate it so much that I would never do it again, because I really did want to have more children, if I could do it.

It took me a long time to recover--actually, a year later I was still having significant trouble, and didn't really feel completely recovered until after Nancy was born, when the Canadian doctor resnipped the episiotomy scar. Apparently the Californian doctor had sewed a nerve.

BUT...the baby was worth it! Especially because he turned out to be David, who is a really nice person!

I went home on February 27, which was when we were able to take pictures of the girls with their new brother.

Kelli with, as she called him, her "new brand" brother, on 27 February 1983. I love this picture! Kelli adored David, and you can see it on her face!

Kelli already had a little sister, so a little brother was what she wanted. However, Abbi did not have a little sister, and that was exactly what she wanted. So, she was less than pleased with the outcome of the baby.  It took her a bit longer to warm up to him.

And here is where the one journal per child and none for me idea got really out of hand--because these are the only pictures of newborn David I have, because all I have is Kelli's old journal. Now, I am missing not only the pictures from Abbi's journal, but from David's as well!

Happy New Year 1983

I recorded very little in either of January or February 1983, and did not mention the fact that I was expecting a baby until February 9th!

I started off the month by mentioning the good progress that Kelli was making in reading, and that when we went to the library, I tried to choose books that Kelli could read so that she could read to me.  We were very dedicated library patrons, actually. We went to both the main library in El Cajon, and the smaller one up on the hill. Even though I did not talk about my pregnancy in the journal, I know that we got all kinds of books about new babies, which I read with the girls in addition to the fun reading books that they chose.

Jan. 2 -- Tonight we all went as a family to Sister Julie S's baptism. It was really special. Kelli likes baptisms. When we came home, Daddy gave a blessing to each of the girls. Kelli has been asking for a blessing for several weeks, and Daddy promised her a blessing before school begins again. We are so glad that Kelli knows that priesthood blessings are important and can help us.

Jan. 6 -- Kelli, like many if not most oldest children, had a problem with being bossy. So much so that Abbi was often miserable because of it--which I think is a pretty typical problem. On this day, Kelli and her dad were using the Lite-Brite together, and the bossiness took a switch from Kelli to her dad, and Kelli did not like it at all. She started to whimper, and then cry. It was an opportunity to talk about how it feels when you are trying to play and one person is too bossy. It really helped Kelli to treat Abbi better--at least for the rest of the day.

So, apparently....that was January! On to February...

February 9 -- Tonight, Bruce gave everyone blessings. He blessed Kelli that she will love and set a good example for the new baby. (FIRST MENTION.) He blessed her that she will be able to concentrate and do well in school. Kelli likes to get blessings--she is thankful to have a dad who holds the priesthood.

Feb. 12 -- Today, Kelli asked if she could practice the piano and that made me very happy, because lately I have had to really get after Kelli about practicing.[Which, as you will remember, is a change, because Kelli was fabulous about it earlier.] When I told Bruce, he told Kelli that he was really glad to hear it. Kelli said, "Today was the first time I did that, because usually Mommy has to really twist my arm to get me to practice!" And we all laughed and laughed, because that was pretty funny [out of the mouth of a five year old!]

Kelli and Abbi ready for church, probably 13 February 1983.

Christmas season 1982

As we were preparing for the Christmas season, I wrote the following about Kelli: "She has purchased and made some really neat presents and can hardly wait to give them all away. She can't keep her hands off the Christmas tree or the presents. Her diet has had an increased ratio of sugar, so she has been pretty hyper!"

And we were all pretty busy, too.

Dec. 20 was the recital for my piano studio. By this time I had about 20 students. I taught a few before school lessons, some after school lessons and Saturday morning lessons each week. Kelli played two songs at the recital: Traffic Cop and From a Wigwam. She did very well, playing both songs from memory.

Both Kelli and Abbi were really gifted and motivated at learning to play the piano. They loved to practice, and to perform.  They both had excellent hand and finger positioning, and were very good at counting.

[Piano lessons: This would be a good time to tell my Sue Clark story.  When we moved to El Cajon, Sue was one of the first people I met. Her husband, Mark, was the EQ president, and he and Bruce actually got along really well. But Sue did not like me. I don't know why--I never did anything deliberately to offend her. But...she just did not seem to like me at all. I felt like she tried to stay as far away from me as possible. I was kind of hurt by it, but I just always tried to be as nice as possible to her whenever I saw her.

Well, one day at Relief Society (during the week, not on Sunday) she came up to me and really nervously asked me if I would be willing to teach her son David piano lessons.  And I said sure!  Sister Matern, our bishop's wife, was a piano teacher, but her studio was full, so she had been recommending me to everyone. This was wonderful for me, because I soon had a full studio, too.

Anyways...I never did find out what the problem had been with Sue. We never talked about it. We became great friends--obviously, since other posts tell about how we tended children back and forth, and so on.  She is an important friend to me because I learned that, if it seems that people don't like you, just be nice. And that it isn't necessary to always talk about and figure out what is wrong--sometimes things just are, and if you leave them alone, they clear themselves up. Both good lessons to learn.]

Back to Christmas 1982 --

Dec. 21 our Primary had a talent show. Kelli reprised her piano pieces of the previous night, as well as acting out the part of the Shepherd and Joseph as Arlene and I sang Natividad. (Good thing this was written down--because I can't remember doing this at all!!) Then, Kelli, Abbi and Jenna danced to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, wearing their adorable costumes that I made. (Well, I made antler hats and belts with jingle bells on them.) They did very well!

Dec. 22, the three girls were asked to dance again at Jenna's ward Christmas party. Once again, they danced so nicely!

At La Mesa, 22 Dec. 82. I love this picture! They are all so "into" their performance!

The girls were the last number on the program before Santa came! I wanted to take pictures with Santa, but a lady came to tell me how well the girls had done, and the opportunity was lost!

On December 24, 1982, Santa Claus called on the phone and asked to speak with the girls! (It was really Uncle Michael's friend, Chris Rose.) Can you imagine the awe and amazement? [My Uncle Elmer did the same thing for us when we were children, only calling on the CB radio!]

24 December 1982 - the girls in their new nightgowns, ready for bed on Christmas Eve.

December 25th dawned bright and early! Abbi and Kelli got in bed with mom and dad in the living room [we slept in a hide-a-bed] at 6:30, but it was so cold, we all snuggled together until 7:00 AM. We made short work of the stockings and gifts under the tree! Daddy had to go to work at 10 AM, but the girls and I got to go to Grandpa and Grandma Lund's house to have a late breakfast with the family [G & G Lund, A & M, J & L].

At 1 pm, we went to La Mesa Convalescent Hospital, where the girls got to feel the true spirit of Christmas by dancing for the elderly people.  [Pat Beatty, the dance teacher, had asked the hospital what they needed in the way of performances during the Christmas season, and they had said what they really needed was something on Christmas day. On that day, very few visitors come, and the people really feel their loneliness more on that day than any other. So, in class, Pat asked who could perform that day...I knew Bruce had to work, so figured that giving service would give the girls and I something good to do. I think Michael had to work, too, or there was a job site that needed to be checked or something, so Arlene didn't mind if Jenna participated. Only one other student, Heather Brenner, volunteered. So it was a small show, but really neat. I remember feeling like that was exactly how Christmas should be spent, in giving service, rather than in collecting loot.]

Jenna and Kelli rub noses, and Heather is about to rub noses with Pat Beatty, in Little Eskimos at La Mesa Convalescent Hospital, 25 Dec. 1982

Abbi, Kelli and Jenna as "Rudolph" -- I don't think that Pat was thrilled about the girls doing a number that Arlene and I had choreographed, since we weren't "professionals"--but when so few children could go, she was happy to have a longer program because the girls had this dance prepared.

The girls did a great job--the best they have ever done! Grandma Lund videotaped it, and I'm sure it looks great! Arlene and I were very proud of the girls.

Then, we rushed home to put the finishing touches on our Christmas dinner, before Bruce got home from work and all the relatives arrived to share Christmas dinner with us. It was a tight squeeze feeding ten people a large meal in our teeny tiny house, but we did it! It was so nice to share such a special day with the people we love! We also enjoyed phone calls from Grandpa & Grandma Conrad and Grandpa & Grandma Layton!