Cross(road) Reference

The books of California and Minnesota written for the Weaver Olsons were pretty well researched by the time our little family arrived in San Diego in 2008. Though the Minnesota Trail has survived primarily as a hepcat foot path, the ruts become much more established when we throw in the journeys of the Olson family. Preachers, students and nomads alike have volleyed between the forces of the Midwest and West coast poles.
Our little family grew into a bigger little family after we moved. Micah is 100% Californian for all intent and purpose (though he doesn't know it yet). We've grown very attached to our little apartment, have found places we like to buy food and parks where we like to play. Nate has gotten to know his colleagues in Latin American Studies as well as the history department. He can bike to school and be home within 20 minutes. Our church is 4 blocks away, and our Ethie (Blue Car) is 12 miles (on a Sunday). We become journeymen despite the transient nature of our lives.
Nate will finish his Master's degree in Latin American Studies this June. He has applied for Ph.D. studies in history with a Latin American Studies emphasis for the fall of 2010. He was accepted at the University of Minnesota, was not admitted to UW Madison (his first choice), and we suspect will be admitted to the history program at UC San Diego. (We have yet to hear officially.) Now that the door has opened for us to return to Minnesota (nullifying most aspects of anything the University of Iowa would have to offer, from which we have yet to hear), it seems that we will once again be deciding to extend our time in California another half decade, or make a move to Minnesota that, as far as we can tell, would be the beginnings of establishing roots in a place we long to be, for a long time. Would it be that simple.
We've done the following on several scales: made pro/con lists, made the decision based on sentiment, logic, prayers (past and current), money, made the decision about the kid's futures, made it based on family, on friends, on spiritual, emotional and physical needs, what would be best for Nathan, best for Kimberly, best for our little family, best for our big family, best for our careers, best for our vision of what we would like our lives to look like, best for what we think God has designed us to do, made the decision based on housing costs, moving costs, access to fresh produce all year, where we can hear free outdoor concerts, which place has the most trees, and the fewest mean people.
When we decide (or when it is decided for us) on which place affords us all these things equally we'll probably buy some furniture and then buy a cat so we can name that cat.

Micah-Moo

Our Little Bear. I wanted to start this post by calling him our miracle baby, but then reflected that there are miraculous things about both of the kids (there's that parent-of-two equity). But I will say he's our beat-the-odds kid, hands down. He made it to 42 weeks' gestation and was born on the day that my dad, his Dawdi, would have turned 70 years old, August 11, 2009. Micah lost weight so quickly in the hospital that the NPs wanted us to supplement my milk with formula (which we kindly declined, with the promise of a next-day clinic visit), and is now off the charts for weight, height and noggin size (good thing we're not trying to get him on private insurance). A trip to the clinic, the day after we got home from the hospital, revealed to our pediatric NP, Raechelle, that he hadn't voided except for a sprinkle that morning, nor had he pooped since he was delivered. She also measured his heart rate at 92 bpm, extremely low for a newborn (120 and higher is better). She said we should put a tissue over the area on the diaper where he pees (because the disposables are so absorbent we could miss any moisture), and then asked that we call her as soon as we saw evidence of urination. When she called us at 9:45pm (on a Friday) to say that she would like us to take him in to the emergency room, Nate checked his diaper one more time (while I was on the phone with her) and it was soaked. Whew. The next day (2nd day home from the hospital) we took him back to the clinic to see the pediatrician for his heart, and she wanted a blood sample to test for certain antigens that can sometimes lower a newborn's heart rate. Nate took Micah to have that done (being that it had to be a venipuncture on a 6-day-old baby, I wouldn't have been able to stand it). His 7th day home, we went back to the clinic (by now he was peeing and pooping normally) Raechelle checked his HR: 130 bpm. She checked it again. 130 bpm! She went and got another stethoscope. 130 bpm! Barely a week old. As his Mama, I think he needed about 2-3 more days to finish whatever it is babies do in the womb. Due dates are not an exact science. When I went in for the induction, my body wasn't even close to being labor ready. I guess Micah isn't interested in being forced to do anything. Right now, that's endearing. We're just thankful he's so healthy.
He is now 2 1/2 months old, confident and cool. He knew how to latch and drink milk the first time they put him to my breast. When he fusses, it's because something needs to be different, and when the need is met he's back to his cool self. He loves to watch Natalie dance around, will smile and sing if you engage him and is just starting to laugh.
Because I made the herculean effort of training him to be content in the Moby-wrap sling we use, it is now the best way to lull him to sleep. I love it, of course, because it's like a 30-minute hug between baby and Mama. He also sleeps so well at night. There are always a few sleep exceptions (like his tag-teaming with Natalie during nap time), but Nate and I, due to experience and/or having a better sleeper in Micah, have very few sleep complaints (except for "not enough").
Slowly, the experience of having two children is turning from being simply busy to an engagement of 4 people as a family. We all sit at the table when 3 of us eat, we often are traveling in the car together or as a mobile unit with the stroller, and have started incorporating everyone in household routines (Micah's job is to sit in his chair and coo).
Our kids are great companions and we love the new dynamic of being a family of 4.

The Learning Curve

I write this entry with the quiet delight of someone who knows very well that they should be doing one of several decidedly more responsible activities at the moment, but isn't. Kimberly and Ann (who generously agreed to spend the week in a two-bedroom apartment in late August with two other adults, a toddler, and a newborn babe) have gone out to get us a bigger backpack so that we can accommodate the gear of two children. They have done this in part because it needed doing, and partly to leave me in peace to get some other work done. Instead, I find myself rereading favorite sections from A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson, which I was only reading for a moment while someone else was on the computer, but continued reading long after the aforementioned person had vacated the computer and, in fact, had already left the apartment. Just moments ago I got up with a sigh, determined to get to work, but secretly wondering if the Pacific Crest Trail had a website, when I hooked a sudden detour through my children's rooms. My children. Both of them are napping, stripped down to their diaper covers. Natalie is on her belly with her bangkick tucked just enough around her legs to satisfy her. Micah's little belly is heaving away, and his flailing arms are finally trapped and swaddled just enough to keep them quiet, but to leave the rest of him bare. Fans wurr.

I'm somewhat amazed at my moment of quiet, because I never imagined I would find such a space again for quite some time, certainly not so soon. Admittedly, I owe it mostly to Kimberly and Ann's generosity, and upon the pleasantly surprising realization that both kids will sometimes sleep at the same time, like the conjunction of planets. But I also think it is because we are already starting to figure out how to do this, how to parent two children and still take care of ourselves. Sure, lots of folks have figured all of this out before us, but it feels good that we are figuring it out for ourselves.

Negotiations

Natalie has always eaten well. For the most part, she's able to eat the food we prepare for ourselves. She still probably eats better than we do, given our intentions to try and diversify her diet a bit. There are some foods, though, that take some coercion. For example, getting her to eat food higher in iron (meat) isn't the tastiest in her opinion, so we try to mix it with things that hide a bit of the taste (yogurt, avocado). Our tactic is to feed her the mix while simultaneously giving her a tasty food (fruit, pasta, cheese) to eat with her hands as a means of distraction. She's put up with it well, but we have learned where we need to extend to her the same respect. The other day her finger food consisted of pasta shells and blueberries. As I waited with a spoonful of protein-dense blah, she tenaciously put the blueberry inside the pasta shell and lifted the shell to her mouth to eat the whole ensemble. Doing this one handed, she had amazing dexterity. Blueberries fell, pasta was dropped, but each time she succeeded. Mama simply had to wait. Between. Every. Bite.

Cha-kick

Wednesday is the day we usually shop for groceries at Henry's. As we made our list for the most recent trip, Natalie went to the kitchen, pointed and said, "Cha-kick." I've learned this word for chocolate often means anything that comes out of the freezer. I said, "What chocolate?" It would have been impossible for her to have learned of the chocolate Mochi Nate just bought. So, she repeats herself, and much slower so that Mama can catch up. "Chaaa-kiiiick." "Sweetie, there's no chocolate." Probably a blatant lie. Natalie proceeds to walk over to me, point at my lap where our growing list is, and says, again, "Cha-kick." I gave a look to Nate, who mirrored my "Is this for real?" eyes. So, I wrote down 'chocolate' on our list. Natalie reaches for the pen, so I showed her the list and I asked her if what I wrote was correct. She tapped 'chocolate' a couple of times with the pen, and seemed to be satisfied.

Familymoon

For our honeymoon, Nate and I went to the west coast of British Columbia. It seemed to usher in a time of hibernation that following winter where we spent a lot of time learning how to start being married, and we loved it. Before Natalie was born (the weekend of her due date, in fact) Nate and I traveled through a snow storm to the quaint little town of Stokholm, WI, where we spent the day browsing stores, sang carols with a Santa that had trouble staying warm, and stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast during the town's Christmas celebration weekend (a Babymooon, as it were). Natalie's birth rang in the Christmas season and we once again settled in for a long, winter's hiding as we learned about being a family. Boy, did we need it.
The time between Nate returning from Bolivia and the still-pending birth of our newest baby didn't seem promising for any such get-away, especially one involving a toddler. But, we have been pleasantly surprised and quick to embrace opportunities close to home that have kept the three of us enjoyably busy and together. Many of our daily activities involve errands for things we feel will help the baby feel at home, help Natalie feel included, and that will help Mama get through labor and post partum recovery. (I think Nate prides himself on just needing a change of underwear and a toothbrush for the hospital stay; these are things he, of course, already has.) We have also taken advantage of free passes to the Birch Aquarium at Scripps, took a morning at the beach, and celebrated Ethan's birthday in L.A. (which included babysitting so both Nate and I could go to a show with Ethan, Erin and Ian). We are all getting a lot of rest, love strolling to the park here at Mesa where Mama and Papa get to visit as much as Natalie does, and we enjoy time in our apartment watching Natalie T.V. In the evenings Nate and I have re-discovered a few luxuries that come with extra time and a spirit of celebration, including (but not limited to) eating Chinese take-out while watching a favorite show online, reading aloud to each other (Bill Bryson is often a good choice for this), or just finishing up baby-prep tasks that are more difficult to do with a curious little girl around to help. Nate even made it to join Ethan for Quiz Night at Shakespeare's (Ethan's favorite state-side pub).
All these things have brought more growth and bonding to our 3-person family on the eve of this new baby's birth. We've learned again and again that these changes don't mean the other things disappear forever. The are simply made better for it.

Day to Day

When I met Ethan at the airport to await Nate's arrival from Bolivia, I couldn't fathom the fact of having made it 3 weeks without him. When he descended the staircase with his hat, sweatshirt and jeans, and charango sticking out of his backpack I felt not only relief but immense nostalgia. Here he was after having visited Bolivia, where we lived for three years, having walked the same paths we trekked together and supped with our old friends in the places we called home. It was comforting to have him home, and I was anxious to hear the stories.
We took about a week to heal from colds, rest up from separation anxiety and get used to each other again before Nate needed to begin a part-time summer job that a CILAS associate helped him secure before his departure. It didn't take long for anybody. We were most preoccupied with the adjustment Natalie would have to make, but she remembered Papa immediately and their special connection was soon alive with all its affection and intimacy and without a hint of affectation on her part. ¡Qué milagro!
I'm in my 39th week of pregnancy, meaning there is officially one week left before the doctors start pressuring you with all the ways to induce labor. As of today's appointment, not much is indicating imminent labor, but things are starting to change. There are a few observable changes in our apartment that a new baby will arrive soon, but the changes mostly have to do with the pre- and post-natal care of Mama. We'll initially have the baby sleep in our room, with plans to eventually have him in where Natalie sleeps. I guess that comes when we are either sick of sharing our room or feel life isn't wild enough and want to step it up a notch. It could be awhile.
In the meantime, as I move slower and with more effort, Nate is balancing Natalie cares with household and job-related duties. I don't know how he would answer, but most people, when they ask me how I feel, assume my answer will be, "I can't wait to not be pregnant anymore!" In fact, most answer their own question. But for me, though there are times when I grow weary of pregnancy-related body changes, the end of this time doesn't simply mean "not being pregnant" any more. It means the advent of many life changes that are more difficult to handle: less sleep, a change in our family's demographic, a revisiting of all those first-year worries and simply the fact of learning to be a new kind of parent. The spike of a learning curve during crisis is only appreciated in retrospect. That time seems distant on the horizon. So it is with mixed emotions we move forward to this new phase of life. It is also with much anticipation and growing excitement that we look forward to meeting this little guy, guessing where all his features came from, and discovering his personality. We feel confident that Natalie knows there is some being about to be presented to her, that she will do outstanding as an older sister, and that one more Weaver Olson will only make this world a better place.