a not so gentle tug

My Simon was sick today.  It started at about 5:55 AM I think, but likely sooner.  Because, Ted and I switched back our sides of the bed last night, so I wasn't the first point of contact.  We switched sides originally, a while back, when we moved our bed.  After the move, I wanted to be by the door to intercept the kids at night, who Ted would always let hop into bed and I'd be shoved out.  I needed to play gatekeeper.

And I have for a while, but I was tired of it and wanted my side of the best back.  The side I occupied for the first 11 year and 1 month.  I sleep better there.

And so it would be the very night that Simon came to our room reporting an upset belly.  I remember, in my sleep, hearing something about his belly being upset.  Then later, I heard a louder plea with a telltale urgency.  It was then I learned the happy news that, when assisted, Simon in all his five-ness, can rush to the toilet fast enough not vomit on the carpet.  Win!

So that was my wake up call, from the other side of the bed.  And that was the side of the bed I occupied for the majority of the day.  Because, you see, he is a boy, and he can't be sick without his mom. *tug*

I don't know when that need ends.  Does it ever really end?  I mean, it did for Ted.  He loves him mom dearly but he isn't much of a mama's boy in the way I think Simon will be.  Simon isn't really now, though.  He very deeply claims both his parents and he's fiercely loyal to us.  So far.  But when his is ill, he wants his mama.  And not in a way that you'd think, that I'd be waiting on him hand and foot.  He just wants me there, even if I'm doing nothing for him.  

Of course I do everything for him.

In his weakened state, I made a sick bed for him in my own bed (as seen above) and transferred him there, one arm under his legs, one behind his back, him cuddled into me.  I placed him down and covered him up.  He half smiled up at me, "You'we the best, Mama."  *tug*

All throughout this day, he couldn't have me too far from him.  He really was miserably ill, throwing up first everything in his stomach and then moving onto whatever was left and the small amounts of water he drank.  But he just wanted me.  I did become irritated at this once during the day, but mostly I just stayed next to him and rubbed his back when it needed rubbing, and held his hand when it needed holding, and said a prayer with him when he asked. *tug*

I love my daughters fiercely! 

They carved out space in my heart that I didn't understand, even in the midst of it all.  They're my first loves in my succession of children.  Then these boys came with their dissimilar energy, and their cuteness that my growing girls too can see and admire and beg not to leave, and their ... tugging.  A boy does something to a mother's heart that a girl probably does too - I'm sure of it - but he does it differently.  And it's a tug, a full on miniature (sometimes less so) PULL as if with a rope wrapped and boy-scout knotted around the valves and mushy pulsing parts of your heart and it's so strong and so tender and so sweet and inexplicable and... perfect. 

You just give in to those tugs.  And stay in bed all day in yesterday's clothes, supporting his limp weight over a stainless bowl, without being sad or resentful of a lost Saturday.  Because it just is where you want to be, because it's with who you want to be with. 

That poor, sweet, beautiful little tugging boy child.


I make bread!


When I was growing up, my mom didn't really bake.  She occasionally made peanut butter cookies, inevitably burned them, and we all had to claim they were "dark brown."

(I love you Mom and loved all the yummy tops of your dark brown peanut butter cookies.)

So, suffice it to say, I didn't learn to bake growing up.  I learned to cook.  And COOK I mean because we (the woman in my family) do NOT follow recipes well.

I digress.

So, now, all these years later, I bake. I bake!

I must say, though, Ted, generally, is the baker in our family.  Do you know baking is very scientific?  It is.  It's all about chemical reactions and beakers etc. etc.  Or, at least, about following a recipe. Ted, my industrious husband, is SO good at following recipes.  I am not.

I cook, not bake.  Remember?

So, knowing this scientific tidbit, I decided I would be as cool as my friend Cassie.  Cassie makes all the bread for her family.  She can do that because she has the magic scientific recipe, a Bosch, and the right bread pans.  And now, I do too!

Recently, excited by one of my many bread making forays, I posted a picture on my Instagram account of a beautiful, sliced loaf of bread.  I use my Instagram for my chatbooks.  It's my way of doing our family journaling and documenting.  But the response was kinda big so here is this, about making bread.

Before you start, I recommend using a Bosh mixer.  Yes, they're expensive.  But you can luck out like Ted did and find one on Craigslist for $100.  Or you can tell your husband that if he buys one for you you'll make this delicious bread for the rest of the Bosch's life and never buy store bought sandwich bread again, like Cassie did.  Either way, if you're considering buying a mixer, nix the Kitchen Aid and go with the Bosch.  I literally burned out the motor of my Kitchen Aid making this recipe, halved, 5 or 6 times.

To be fair, my Kitchen Aid still works (it makes whipped cream) and it was 7 years old.

Also, if you want to do it right, have the right pans.  These pans (see the link there, click it!) are the right pans.  End of story.  Get four.  Or get 2 now and 2 later.  I bought 2 of my own and then Cassie sent 2 to me as a housewarming gift after we moved to Kentucky.  She's an awesome friend.  Miss her a lot.  Oh but these pans!  They're the bomb-diggity.

Otherwise, I really have no secrets.  Ted grinds (manually, folks.  He's buff!) my whole wheat and it's fine and beautiful.  But I've also used course Hungarian whole wheat and it's good.  And I use bread flour because Cassie said so.  It's like, halfies on the whole wheat and bread flour.  Really, no secrets.  I follow the recipe.  4 loaves, 365 degrees, 21 minutes.  I do actually have the halved recipe but any monkey can halve a recipe so if you can't, ask a monkey for help. ;)

Recipe link here.  And the recipe is below:

Basic Bread Recipe
4 ½ cups warm water
1 cup sugar or honey
1 Tablespoon salt
½ cup vegetable oil
2 ½ Tablespoons yeast
10 – 13 cups bread or wheat flour (I use 11 cups in KY but used less in AZ... it's a humidity thing.  I like light loaves and it's a wet dough.)
Combine water, sugar, salt, oil, and yeast. Set aside for 5 minute or until foamy. Add flour until dough doesn’t stick to bowl. Knead in mixer for 10 – 13 minutes. The least amount of flour added makes a lighter, softer loaf. Let rise in pan until double or the size you want the finished loaf to be. Bake at 350-375 for 20 to 22 minutes.


Ted+Kelly, Part 8: Putting It ALL Out There

When you're hot, you're hot and I have to keep moving.  Just published part 7 and though it's late for a mama with 3 early risers, I have to get back to this.  This is one of my favorite parts.  I hope you enjoy it but even if you don't, I will!

In case you're new to this fun:
Part 1 (In which you wonder how this story could end the way it did.)
Part 2 (In which I'm suddenly available.)
Part 3 (In which the descriptions of bowel issues leave you dumbfounded.)
Part 4 (In which you're suddenly as in love with Ted as I was.)
Part 5 (In which I send signals so mixed, they should be canned and marketed as nuts.)
Part 6 (In which Ted begins to become a fixture in the life of Kelly)
Part 7 (In which Ted feigns disinterest to reel in his lady.  Yeah, that happened.)


Standing with a plate of sloppy joes and tater tots in my hand, I looked around for a seat.  In walked Ted, wearing a brown polo shirt with yellow and white stripes.  He was freshly shaven and looked like he'd had a hair cut since I saw him two days ago.

He motioned that he was going to pay and get food and I pointed with my chin and a smile to two chairs open in a circle of mutual friends.  I sat down and put my purple backpack on the seat next to mine, the arms of the low lounging chairs touching.

"Hey ladies," I said to the circle of friends already seated.  The room was spattered with friends from our complex and the institute as well as a few unfamiliar faces. LFAB had a way of bringing people in.

"Hey Kelly Belly," Karin said.  She rarely called me that unflattering nickname and never meant it cruelly.  No one else utilized it.

"How are you, Kare Bear?" I put my plate on my lap and my cup on the floor.

Karin was eating small bites off her plate while looking around. "Goood. Where's Ted?  I don't often see you somewhere without him far behind."  Truth.

"Um, he just walked in.  He's getting food."  I turned and spotted him in line.

Karin and I talked about some of her workplace drama at Black Bart's Steakhouse where she both served up the grub and sang.  There was always a juicy little bit of drama to share.

Without asking, Ted removed my bag and sat next to me.  I was already halfway done with my food.  I was starving and though the sloppy joes surprisingly hit the spot, my tots were long gone.

Karin and Ted exchanged their greetings and my hand slyly slid to Ted's plate, perched precariously on the arm of his chair.  Must. Have. More Tots.

"Hey.  Have some tots, why don't you?" Ted encouraged me sarcastically.  But I still stole his tots. I smiled, lips pursed, mouth full of crunchy-potatoey-goodness, cheeks full and round with a grin.

Some friends in our circle finished and went out the back door to visit with friends eating outside while Karin and I continued to chat with those still seated.  Done with my plate, I was leaning back in my chair, which angled towards Ted's.

Karin nodded in understanding as I vented some of my anxieties about the upcoming event I was in charge of. "I know I have most of it ironed out and everyone on the staff is jumping in to help but I don't know that I will breathe easy until the banquet is over."

"I don't blame you," Karin said.  "It's kind of a big deal.  But at least you have your dress and it's super hot."  That was reassurance I could always use.  I was self conscious about my dress for the end of the year award banquet for student government.

Ted chimed in again, as he did occasionally. "Heck yeah it is.  But it's Kelly so of course it's hot."

"Oh gosh.  Well, thanks for the vote of confidence," I turned and smiled at Ted.

I reached down to the floor for my back pack and turned my phone off silent.  I was waiting for a few calls and didn't want to miss them.  I sat back, upright in my chair, as Andrea, Karin's sister started talking about a game night her apartment was having that weekend.  I rested my arm on the armrest of my chair when I suddenly had goosebumps shoot up my left arm and across my neck.  I was relatively sure the hair on my left leg was now 1/4 inch longer than the hair on my right leg.

I looked towards my hand out of the corner of my eye and saw just Ted's pinkie finger rubbing, intentionally, against mine, caressing my own pinkie finger.  He continue to listen to Andrea talking, nodding, agreeing, and suddenly, in one smooth sneak attack, his fingers wrapped around mine.  His hand was now resting, not on his own arm rest, but around my hand.

His body language was relaxed, as if this was normal and nothing had changed, and he continue listening to Andrea and Karin, but he was grinning like a fool!

What was he doing?!  Who just DID that, took hold of someone's HAND in broad daylight at LFAB at the INSTITUTE where almost every person they knew was eating lunch??  And the hand of someone who was going on a mission?  The hand of someone they weren't dating?  And why, oh WHY, did I have this inexplicable physiological reaction?  Just the brush of Ted's smallest digit against my own hand sent a wave of attraction over me I had neither expected or had time to interpret.

But while all these absurd thoughts flew through my head, Ted just sat there, holding tight, smiling like he was certain he had the winning lottery numbers.

Karin turned towards me to comment on game night and her eyes nearly fell out of her head.  She was obviously expecting to see Ted holding my hand as much as I was expecting Ted to hold my hand.  But she kept her cool.

"Can you make it, Kelly," she asked with a surprising calm.

"I doubt it but it sounds like a ton of fun so if it ends up I can, I'll totally be there.  It's been forever since we've had a good game night." I kept it cool. "Right, Ted?"

"Yeah, a really long time," he said, with a sideways glance.

Ted checked his watch, on his other wrist. "Ugh, I gotta get out of here.  I have to let Barry's dogs out.  I'm watching them for him while he's out of town."  This was a friend of Ted's.  Such a peculiar guy but Ted's friend, which wasn't at all surprising to me.  "Can I give you a ride back to the Ghettos or to your office?"  I had my car so I didn't need Ted's help getting back to the Mormon Ghettos - the nickname of our apartment complex - or anywhere else.

"Nope," I said, "I drove, but I need to get going to, pretty soon."

"OK," Ted said as he stood.  He squeezed my shoulder once, in front of his captive audience.  "Give me a call later when you're done for the day."

"Mmmhm.  I will," I told this hand-grabbing man.  And smiled.  And watched him walk out.

Not a moment passed after he walked through the double doors when Karin's head snapped back towards mine. "WHAT was THAT? Is that, like, a new thing or are you holding out on me?"

I smiled and shook my head. "I couldn't tell you what that was.  But it's definitely new.  And I really do need to go, but we will for sure talk later."

I stood and Karin gasped, "Seriously? OK. Tonight.  Like, right when I get home from work."

The drive home from the institute was short but it was long enough to make up my mind.  I could NOT date Ted.  I was going on a MISSION for goodness sake!  Not to mention my plate was fuller than Thanksgiving day with school, work, and church stuff.  Maybe I had lead him on, but this could not happen.  I just recently got out of a relationship, a relationship that had almost ended my friendship with Ted to begin with.  I would just have to explain this to Ted.  The sooner the better.

Because, really...SO WHAT if Ted made me laugh?  So what if he was always doing super kind things for me like taking me out of ice cream after a long day or changing the spark plugs in my hopeless vehicle?  Did it really matter that he was unbelievably handy and skilled at every form of maintenance in existence?  No.  And yes, he was a thoughtful friend who would regularly text me to see how work meetings and tests had gone.  He had essentially memorized my schedule and found ways to pop in to say hi even when he worked crazy hours and had a full class load. And he gave good hugs, the melt-into-them kind that made things feel better.  It just did not matter.  I told Ted at the dance - I told him! - that I was unavailable.  Kind of, I kind of told him that.  I mean, I meant to.  That was essentially what I had tried to say.  Sort of.  Ish.

So this just had to be stopped.

I needed to head into my office before my next class but I could not do that before ending this sequence of events.  I sat on the steps to my apartment, grateful for the calm of a gentle Flagstaff breeze, and I dialed Ted's number.  It rang and I got butterflies in my stomach.

"Hey babe.  What's going on?" Dang him!  Dang him for sounding so casual and easy-breezy-hand-holding-absurd.

Those butterflies in my stomach where big.  Like, massive monarchs or something. "Heeeeey. I was hoping to catch you.  Glad you answered.  Are you too busy with the dogs to chat for a minute?"

"Nope!  I've got all the time in the world.  Just heading out with the dogs now.  What's up?"

I took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. "Ted.  You just held my hand.  At the institute of all places.  In front of a ton of people."

Ted laughed, "Yeah, and you liked it!"

His overconfidence was funny and sometimes endearing but it wasn't making things easy.  Neither was the truthfulness of his statement.  I bolstered my courage with all my reasons and these terribly truthful true reasons this could not work out.

"Well now, that's neither here nor there.  It was just a really bold thing to do for two people who aren't dating."  That was a good start at putting my foot down.

Ted would not relent. "But we should be.  Dating.  I'm not one to beat around the bush.  I like you Kelly.  You know that I like you.  I want to date you. I've wanted to date you, I think, almost since I met you. I want you to be my girlfriend.  And I think you want me to be your boyfriend."

OK, that was cute. But Ted did not understand so it was my job to explain things to him.

"But Ted, you really don't want to date me.  You just think you do because you don't understand all the circumstances and details.  It just will not work out."

Ted laughed a bit. "Oh yeah?  I doubt it.  But go ahead and explain it to me."

This man should be careful what he asked for.  Fine.  I'd explain it to him.

"Fine but you can't talk until I'm done."  That seemed fair. "Can you agree to that," I asked, hoping for a simple response.

"Yes," Ted agreed.  "I can do that.  Go ahead."

I stood, prepared to pace, as I was wont to do whilst listing things.

I dove right in. "I am going on a mission.  You know that, I know that.  The Lord told me to prepare for the temple to go on a mission and I've been doing that.  I am going to mission prep and I have my mission papers and I'm working on them.  I have dental and doctor appointments scheduled."

I paced feverishly along the sidewalk along the parking lot.  "That aside, I'm insanely busy.  Like, one million credit hours of classes and three - THREE - jobs.  I have a lot of stuff to worry about for the end of the year and I'm trying to wrap it all up successfully so I can put everything on hold to serve a mission.  So... yeah, I have a ton of classes and a tons of jobs and church and institute and I seriously just don't have time for a relationship."

I paused.  I guess that was all I had to say.  I knew I was too busy to date anyone and now Ted knew it too and we could just put this behind us.

"Yeah but," Ted sad after a moment, realizing I was done, "none of that business or mission prep has kept us from spending time together so far.  I'm really busy too but we have found time to spend together so far.  I don't think it's the issue you're making it out to be.  I'd really like to date you, Kelly."

He just didn't get it.

"OK, but then there's other stuff.  I promise Ted, you don't want to date me," I said, hesitantly.

"Yeah? Like what," he asked.

I didn't want to do this but he was just not getting it. I could tell I needed to lay out all my flaws or he would never understand the severity of the situation.

"Like what?  Like a lot of things!  I would not be a good girlfriend for you. I am not good at commuting.  I end relationships quickly because I just am flighty.  I am bossy and I know I'm bossy.  I don't like that about me and I try not to be but you're going to see how true it is.  I totally run on my own time table and I expect everyone else to follow suite. Also, I am obsessive about list making, like sometimes to a fault.  I've made lists of lists I have to make. And, truly, I'm not very nice.  I interrupt people a lot when they talk, more than I should, and though I try to empathize, I often think of all these kind things I want to say to people too late, when I think about the conversation later.  I know I don't come off as nice because of  that.  Because no one wants to hear kind things about a conversation they had 2 hours ago, totally out of context.  So, I think I come off as self centered or unkind or a bad listener.  I really don't think I'd be a good girlfriend to you and you deserve someone who will be awesome.  So I really don't think this is a good idea."

It was a jumbled mess and it was disgustingly honest but I did not want to hurt Ted.

I heard a dog bark and I heard a deep breath on Ted' end of the line. "Are you finished," he asked.

"I am.  I, I think I am," I replied.

"Good," Ted said. "My turn.  I think, no, I know, that you are way too hard on yourself.  I'm probably way more flawed that any of that.  I'm just a regular guy from Arkansas who says all the wrong things. And even if all those things about you are true, I still want to date you.  I really want to give it a try. If we crash and burn and the whole thing is just crappy, so be it. I still really want to date you."

I was confused and a little amazed, but the corners of my mouth turned upwards and I walked back towards my apartment after a good pace.

"What do you say, Kelly?" Ted asked, hopefully.

"I don't know what to say," I said, incredulously.  "I was not expecting to have this conversation today.  But, yeah, OK.  Let's give it a go.  I've given you fair warning of how crazy I am.  So as long as you know that, I guess it's a proceed at your own risk situation."

I could hear his smile through the phone.  "OK then.  You're crazy, but OK. So this means you're not going to chew me out if I try to hold your hand at Crystal Creek when we go out for lunch tomorrow or even at the institute?"

Ha! That was good.  Reel a girl in with her favorite sandwich place.  This was a good response that made me feel like I was talking with my friend again.  It felt just like before, with humor and warmth and honesty.  All of that.  But better.  


Ted+Kelly, Part 7: Feigned Disinterest

It's been so long, I barely remembered where I left off.  But we're back in the saddle now.  This is a calm "episode" of Ted+Kelly but it leads up to a whopper in the next chapter.

In case you're new to this fun:
Part 1 (In which you wonder how this story could end the way it did.)
Part 2 (In which I'm suddenly available.)
Part 3 (In which the descriptions of bowel issues leave you dumbfounded.)
Part 4 (In which you're suddenly as in love with Ted as I was.)
Part 5 (In which I send signals so mixed, they should be canned and marketed as nuts.)
Part 6 (In which Ted begins to become a fixture in the life of Kelly)


I stared down at my planner in disgust.  I had so much going on the next several days and a line of tasks crossed off, completed in the previous two days, yet today was virtually empty.  I had gone into my office for an hour that morning to do what needed to be done.  My class that morning had been cancelled to work on a group project my group had already completed.  I had a deluge of exciting tasks and responsibilities coming up in the next couple weeks and days but today, for a while anyway, was blank.

It would be the perfect day to do something fun.  My thoughts immediately turned to Ted.  Ted... I hadn't heard from him in the past day or so.  It was a strange gap in communication.  Why hadn't he called or sent a text message recently.  Odd.

I knew he was home.

Well, I mean, he would normally be home now.  While I'm in class.

I mean, he'd be home.  Unless he wasn't.  Unless he was with someone else.

I had to stop that sort of silly thought process.  He wasn't with another girl.  And even if he was, so what?  I was going on a mission.  And I was busier than a one-armed paper hanger.

But still, he hadn't called in a while.  So why didn't I just send him a text to say hi and see what he was up to?  No harm in that.

"Hey :)  How are you?  What's going on?"  Light.  Friendly.  Playing it totally cool ... No, ACTUALLY AM totally cool.

He answered a few minutes later. "Hey.  I'm good.  I'm watching a movie."

He was watching a movie.  Oh.  That's fun.  What, like, at home?  Or at a theater? Was he with people or just hanging out alone... not inviting me to join him?

I decided to just call him.  He answered after a few rings. "Hey, Kelly.  What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing really.  My class got cancelled and I'm surprisingly unbusy right now.  Just hanging out at my apartment."  That (silently) screamed "INVITE ME TO WATCH YOUR MOVIE!" ... right?

He took no cue, though. "Niiice.  I love when there's nothing going on."

"So what movie are you watching?" I asked.

"Um, I think it's called 'My Fair Lady.' It's a musical or something.  It's Ben's and I've never seen it before so I thought I'd see if it was any good." He laughed at himself a little.

He was either truly at his apartment, dozens of yards away from mine, watching a musical, or he was messing with me because he knew I enjoyed musicals.

"Really?  I love it!  It's so good.  Do you love Audrey Hepburn in it?  She actually kind of annoys me in it at times, which is basically sacrilege to admit, but she's supposed to so maybe it's OK."  I decided that came out too excited but whatever.

Ted didn't seem to notice my fervor of words. "It's pretty good.  I'm not following it perfectly but it's aight."

Did he? - did he really just say "aight" like a gangster, as if it's appropriate to say ever, let alone in regards to Audrey Hepburn?  And WHY wasn't he inviting me over to watch with him?!

"Yeah... well, cool."  I paused.  He didn't say anything.  The moment hung like droopy wallpaper in need of more paste.  "Sooo," I found myself saying, "aaare you going to ask me to watch it with you or what?" There.  Take that!

He sort of laughed to himself.  Was this a laughing matter? "Oh, yeah.  Yeah, of course," he said in a mock-cool tone.  "Hey Kelly, want to come watch 'My Fair Lady' with me? I'm already like a half hour into it but you're welcome to come over."

Did he really want me to come or was he saying this because I basically told him to?  I didn't care.  It was Ted, I didn't think he would say something he didn't mean or invite me to do something - no matter if he was coerced or not - if he didn't really want to.

"Oh, watch with you?  Well, yeah, I guess I could come watch with you.  Interpret.  Make sure you're not lagging behind on the plot," I replied.

I'm in!

What was the DEAL?  He hadn't called me in like EIGHT DAYS (exaggeration, but still!) and then he didn't even come right out and invite me to watch a movie with him that he obviously knew I'd adore?  Ew.  Boys are weird.  And inconsistent.  And... YAY!  I was going to spend the morning watching a movie with Ted rather than being at work or class.

I put my phone and chapstick into my pocket and walked past the 3 buildings separating mine and Ted's.  I climbed the stairs and took a breath outside his door.  I knocked.  Waited.  I knocked again.  Nothing.  So I balled up my fist and pounded with the fleshy end of my hand.

"It's open!" I heard Ted call from the kitchen.  The kitchen! - right inside the door.  Was he DEAF?

"Hey," Ted said warmly, as he stood at the sink, filling his cup with water.

"Heeey," I replied, skeptical.  Who was this stand off-ish man?

We exchanged small talk and eventually plopped down on the couch, in movie mode.  I was excited to see Ted's impression of "My Fair Lady," but mostly I was ready for some chill time with this guy who, though currently seemed aloof, I really enjoyed spending time with.  And as he hit play, I smelled it.  His cologne.  It smelled fresh.  Maybe he wasn't so unaffected after all.

Around intermission, Ben came home with a couple of grocery bags.  "Hey guys.  You look awfully cozy there.  How about a tomato sandwich?"  Ben was also so kind and willing to share.  But, why tomatoes?

Ted responded eagerly. "Heck yes!  That sounds awesome."  Of course.

"Um, I'm not really a raw-tomato person." I squeaked, with a grimace, knowing to expect backlash.

"What is a raw-tomato person," Ben asked.

The imagery of a person made entirely of raw tomato bits was humorous but it was not at all what I intended. "You know, one of those people who just, eats tomatoes... on things or just, like an apple or, like... ever." I explained that to the best of my ability and as thoroughly as I could.

Ben smiled greatly and Ted looked rather appalled. "You don't like tomatoes.  At all?" Ted was flabbergasted.

"No, I like them a lot.  Cooked. Stewed.  In things. Soups. As sauce.  Ketchup even, on occasion.  Just not... uncooked."

Ben wasn't convinced. "OK, but raw tomatoes are taken to an entirely new level when sandwiched in between two layers of eggy challah bread.  I'll make you one and if you don't eat it, I know someone else will.  Me. Or Ted.  Or Ted and me." Ben chided me gently and I agreed.

Moments later I stared down my first tomato sandwich with apprehension but a gut full of good intentions.  I had once hated zucchini and  made up  my mind to eat it every chance I had until, eventually, it became one of my favorite vegetables.  Just behind broccoli.  And why - WHY - was Ted finding out all my least favorite foods? Spicy anything.  Raw tomatoes.  I was not a picky person but I surely wasn't showing well.

A drip of tomato-watered-down mayonnaise escape from the corner of Ted's mouth. He caught it with his knuckle and licked it off.  "Mmm, Ben, this is so good.  You're so awesome."

I picked up the sandwich as I was gaped at.  I cautiously opened my mouth and proceed to take a hearty bite, as anything worth doing is worth doing well.  I chewed through the dense, sweet bread and it mingled effortlessly with the fresh, aromatic tomato.  It did not do bad things.  I didn't want to chuck it or spit it out.  I wanted to swallow it.  And I wanted another bite!

"Benjamin Peterson," I exclaimed before swallowing. "This is the best tomato sandwich I've ever had." Swallow.  "And the first one.  But the best!" Ted had another.  I did too.  But, half, because, still, it was raw tomato.

We all laughed and after his sandwich making skills were put aside, Ben excused himself as Ted and I refocused on the movie, closer and cozier on the couch than before.  All too quickly, the movie was over and I knew it was time to return to 100 other things.

"Thanks for having me over for some Audrey Hepburn and tomato goodness.  Who knew the two were such a delightful combination?" I meant it, too.

"They wouldn't have been, without the perfect company," Ted said with his patented corny smile. "Are you going to be at LFAB at the institute?" Lunch For a Buck?  Yes, I told him, I would of course be there.

Ted hugged me on the door step and, I was certain, watched me until I was out of view.  I didn't see him so much as felt his gaze until I knew I was out of sight.

For a girl who had been pulling teeth to get invited to watch a movie, I was sure that had turned out better than I had thought it would.

Samuel Coy

A large number of friends have been asking after details surrounding the unusual arrival of Sam.  Sam was born Saturday morning at 2:00 AM en route to the hospital and delivered by his sweet papa.  Everyone is happy and healthy and well and here are the details surrounding the blessed event.

On Wednesday May 13 my OB told me I was STILL dilated to a 4, despite a week of consistent though irregularly timed contractions.  I was 40 weeks pregnant and discouraged.  I didn't WANT to be induced, but we set an induction date for Friday the 15th, with the hope that we'd still head into the hospital due to spontaneous labor.  I didn't have a lot of hope and I was sad that I was setting my 4th induction.  Simon was born hours before his scheduled induction but his had still been set.

Friday morning came.  I was supposed to call the hospital and make sure they could accommodate us for the scheduled induction.  They could not.  In fact, they almost laughed at the idea of it.  They said Friday afternoon EARLIEST, likely Saturday some time.

I was SO depressed over this.  I was DONE and I HAD made it to my induction so I had just resigned to the fact that it would happen and the upside was that at least I would soon not be pregnant anymore and hold my beautiful baby.

All day I was grumpy as I waited for the hospital to call us in.  To add to that, I was having pretty decent contractions.  They were painful and felt productive, like actual labor, but were never consistent. Ted was grumpy too.  He knew how miserable I was feeling, physically and emotionally, and wanted nothing more for me than an immediate, healthy end to this seemingly endless pregnancy.

Around 1:00, Ted called L&D to ask after the possibility we would be called in.  They said they'd had so many babies born, they didn't have room to move ladies and babies to recovery rooms and only had 2 open L&D rooms and could not fill them with inductions.

I decided around 4:00 that even if they did call us in, I was past my prime, despite two naps that day, and I wasn't going to induce on Friday the 15th.  Maybe we'd try for the next day.  But, another part of my sort of knew an induction wasn't meant to be.  I felt like I missed my one chance and it was almost a sign I was going to have to wait it out, or should wait it out, regardless of how long that was.  I was semi-OK with that.  There are serious pros and cons to induction.

While putting our kids down to bed, around 7PM, my contractions finally started to really regulate.  They were 10 minutes apart for around an hour and I was starting to see a glimmer of hope for spontaneous labor.  By 7:30, I was seeing them at about 7 minutes apart and around 8:30, they were about 5-6 min and my mom was on her way over.  We were going in, whether they had room or not!

But our plans were thwarted when, around 9, before leaving, my contractions just stopped.  Ted decided we'd walk but I knew walking wouldn't help.  For the past several weeks, every time we walked, I just turned on my super powers.  Ted and I claim I'm the amazing gestating woman, who only grows STRONGER and more able to gestate with every passing step.  Walking has never sent me into labor and never helped me progress.  In fact, it tends to cause any contractions I have to stop.  Know what works?  Watching Chopped on my couch and eating ice cream.  Sleep is even more effective.  Don't be jealous.

But walk we did and came home and waited a little.  NOTHING.  Oh, over the next hour, 2 maybe 3 contractions but it was looking dismal.  My dad had dropped my mom off so we sent her home in our van and I resigned myself to sleep.  Before she left, my mom kept encouraging us to just go in, they'd have to take us.  But I wasn't going to go not in active labor, still at a 4 maybe 5, and be sent home or go and "sleep" for 4 or more hours in a wretchedly uncomfortable hospital bed when I have a perfectly comfortable (no really, it's perfectly comfortable) bed of my own at home.  I told my mom I'd rather have a baby at home, delivered by my husband, than go through all that foolishness.  I told her everyone else was much more concerned than I was and just chill out.  Famous last words.

I put my phone on my night stand, ready to time any contractions on my timing app  And I did.  I timed every contraction that woke me.  The lesson I learned the next day was that it is inefficient to time contractions and not LOOK at your log.  At all.  And just roll over and go back to sleep.  While they're 60 seconds long and 5 minutes apart.  And you're at least 45 minutes from the hospital.

At 1:03AM my eyes popped open, violently, in response to an extremely new sensation.  As background, my water was broken by my doctor while under the influence of anesthesia with Gwenna and Meredith and broke on its own with Simon 20 minutes before he was born.  It felt like a leak, not a balloon popping, which this did.  And yet, even with the change in sensation, I knew instantly, we were in trouble.

Ted retrieved a towel (my mattress is was totally dry, somehow), called my mom, and helped me to my blue recliner across from my bed.  My lips and teeth instantly started to chatter.  This only happens under two circumstances, other than extreme cold: When I'm oxygen deprived and when I am transitioning in labor.  Oh, how I chatter as I transition!  This was scary to me because it meant we were down to the wire.  I did suggest, "Maybe we should go to your hospital, Ted."  Meaning, of course, the hospital in town.  Ted disagreed.  "They don't even have a baby warmer in the ER."  Our hospital is very small and does not deliver  babies.  We'd have been shipped out, via helicopter to Tucson, for sure.  And despite having helicopter insurance, this isn't something we relished.  Safford it is!

This was the only point during the entire laboring experience that I was really anxious.  At this point, Ted gave me a blessing and I pulled my act together.  After that, I got up, Ted got me a pair of his shorts (much easier to pull on than yoga pants, which we tried and the baby was so low it was insanely uncomfortable), I went to the bathroom, and we left.  Thank goodness my mom lives a mile away. She ran our phone charger and a sweatshirt out the door for Ted and at 1:33 we were pulling out of our driveway.

I said a prayer as we drove down our dirt road and after, told Ted I was going to sing in between contractions.  It kept me really calm and upbeat. I was surprisingly level headed in between contractions and not as worried as I suspected and could feel Ted was.

From Willcox, we travel about 10 miles on the I-10 until we hit HW191 and take that 40ish miles to Safford.  As soon as we hit the 10, Ted hit the gas and didn't go less than 90 MPH, save slowing down then a trailer in front of us blew a tire and started swerving and spewing bits of rubber.  That was concerning but we were fine and soon speeding away again.  Ted learned from Simon being born 30-some minutes after arriving at the hospital that when I say it's time to go, we go!  He has never lived down going to speed limit the entire way to the hospital with Simon's birth BUT he has learned from it.

My contractions, though intensified greatly, stayed at about 5 minutes apart with some "aftershock" that whole first 10 miles.  I remember, the third contraction I finally needed to squeeze and knead Ted's right arm and brace myself on the car door with my other hand to get through it.  I was really excellent at breathing through contractions, relying on Ted's shiny advice on the way to the hospital with Simon, which was, "Breathe, honey.  Don't forget to breathe."  With Simon I was holding my breath through the intense contractions I had previously been dead to with my girls due to anesthesia.

With Simon and now with Sam, once I started breathing deeply, it was a game changer.  Still terrible but there was light at the end of the tunnel as I could feel each contraction roll from my back to my belly, peak, and start to decrease.

I had 2 mantras in my heart and mind.  The first is something we hear all the time, women repeat it through labor regular.  "You were made for this."  Truly, I know I am literally made, built for this moment.  Second was something Stephanie Fritz posted on Facebook recently. It was essentially about no contraction being stronger than you because they ARE you, they COME from you.  In my mind, that's pretty equal.  These thoughts helped immensely.

After reaching the 191, though, they started coming stronger, lasting longer, and before I knew it, they were 3 minutes apart.  Then, almost as without any warning, one minute later, there was another.  I felt a strong sensation of pressure as the baby dropped into place in the birth canal and with that first 1 minute contraction I realized we were still miles from the hospital and we were NOT going to make it.

I wasn't scared of this fact.  It just was what it was and I knew we had to prepare for the inevitable.  It felt intensely surreal but never frighting.  I trusted myself and I trusted Ted to handle the things I couldn't.

I told Ted at this point, "Honey we're not going to make it to the hospital." I may have sounded rushed in speech or panicked but it was mostly from speaking through pain.  Ted said, "Are you sure?  I'll go faster." And he did, he went 110 before our ever trusty and loved Ford Taurus tried to turn itself off.  Twice.  "No honey, we're not going to make it.  You have to pull over now."  He believed me and pulled over.

Ted ran around to my side of the car, opened my door, reclined my seat a little, and I pulled down his shorts (which I was wearing, lest we forget and think this just got really weird). He retrieved 2 sweatshirts from the back seat of the car and pulled out his phone with its very bright flashlight app.  He held  his phone up and inspected.  "I don't see anything.  No head, nothing.  I think we can make it."  We couldn't.  I knew that.

Seconds later, "Oh, there's the head!"  And when he said that, along came another contraction, lots of "OK, OK"s on his part, and with one push, a head FULL of dark hair was born into the cold night.

Knowing to wait until the next contraction to push and with a reminder from Ted to wait, I breathed through the next moment, already feeling some amount of relief.  Ted wiped the baby's face - mouth and nose - making sure its airways were clear.  With the next strong surge of contraction, I pushed out our little baby's body.  Ted immediately put him on my belly, wiping him a bit as we passed Sam my way.  I pulled him up best I could, announcing what I already knew, "Here HE is!"  Ted opened his legs, now that Sam was right side up.  "It's a boy, it's a boy!"  Elated, surprised, proud.  THAT reaction was totally worth not knowing for so long and laboring and delivering on the side of the road.  Ted delivering and discovering his son was amazing.

My relief was varied and deep.  Physically, I felt one trillion times better.  I can't even describe the dichotomy between the moment before you have a baby and the moment after, especially during an expedited delivery.  The comparison is so immediate and opposing.  The physical relief is unreal.  But to have and hold and see this little baby after the last hour of uncertainty - and an excruciating long pregnancy in general - was perfectly rewarding.

After a few minutes, I looked over at the clock and saw it was 2:03 AM and gasped, "Ted!  What time was he born?!"  Ted said it had been 2 on the money.  He, as a nurse, would have paid attention to something like that while I was of no mind to care.

I hadn't delivered the placenta yet and because of the many complications that can cause, we did not actively pursue that. When the placenta is delivered, that is when bleeding starts.  The wound created from the placenta being separated from the womb can create a very messy and potentially dangerous situation if not handled correctly.  We decided to get to the hospital quickly and bid farewell to our little delivery spot between mile markers 105 and 106.

I told Ted to call 911 because, well, isn't that what you do when you have a baby on the side of the road?  We did just want to drive to the hospital, so we did, just as fast as before.

Sam cried a moment after he was born.  I knew he could.  But he was just cuddled against me, his skin to mine, warm and new, and he was incredibly calm, alert, and peaceful.  He did sqwak a little at one point in the next little bit until we got to the hospital but hardly at all.  Just enough to assure me his airway was clear and he was healthy.  Ideally, I'd have liked to have nursed him, but didn't dare for fear of pulling his cord too tightly or pulling at all on the placenta.

I'll skip the ordeal with the 911 operator and the ambulance crew (much more sensible than the 911  operator) and skip to the hospital.  We arrived to a welcoming crew, standing in the rain.  It had barely begun to drizzle after Sam was born and was lightly raining by time we reached the hospital.  As we pulled off the road, into the parking lot, I reminded Ted my shoes and his shorts were still around my feet and legs and could he please handle those when we stopped.  He laughed a little and agreed.

One ER nurse sat in the driver seat and helped me from behind, another 2 assisted me out of the car.  My job was to hold onto my baby and precariously step out into the world, unclad from my waist down, in a wet parking lot, shielded by a human wall of people holding blankets.  One of the weirdest sensations is clutching something, externally, that is still attached to you, internally.  Each time the baby's cord moved, I could feel that inside.

I sat in a wheel chair, covered from each angle with warm blankets, and was wheeled to L&D, where I had great help getting into a bed, still holding tight to my attached baby.  I never had to let go of him from the time he was born and it was amazing.

Though the situation seemed relatively emergent, no one was rushed or frantic.  Everyone was calm, no one inundated us with questions, they just took care of what needed to be done.  Since I'd done everything without an IV, they gave me a shot of pitocin in my leg to encourage the birth of the placenta.  My doctor arrived and moments later, the placenta came without issue.  They clamped the cord and allowed Ted to cut it.  My baby was finally free and I was able to cuddle him to my chest and nurse him while I was being stitched up.  The numbing shots prior to being stitched were the first "pain relief" I had received and they, as I have always said, were just as bad as the rest of the pain of labor.  That's a really sensitive area to receive shots and I got a lot, probably upwards of 10, in multiple areas in the region, before they started to take effect.  Not fun but not one of the biggest concerns.  I got stitched up and our doctor was gone.

Looking back, as I like to, I see some amazing things that happened.  I had a few very specific desires relating to the entire birth process with our 4th baby.  One was that, regardless of how we delivered (induction or natural spontaneous labor) I wanted to avoid an IV as long as possible.  I don't fear them but I hate being tied down.  Second, I wanted to delay the cord clamping because of the wonderful benefits for the baby.  Third, I wanted to hold my baby immediately after birth and for as long as possible before the nurses tended him.

The latter two desires stem from issues I had with Simon's birth, hopes I had that were not met.  His cord was around his neck 4 times and he was blue so they had to cut the cord immediately and I couldn't hold him for over an hour, until he pinked up.  I was not OK with how that played out, despite understanding the medical need.

The way everything panned out this time, all three of those desires were not just met, but exceeded.  I never had an IV while in the hospital.  When the nurses attempted to extract some blood from the cord to test Sam's blood type, they couldn't get so much as a drop.  And that was for sure the longest I ever held a baby prior to medical care.  They were able to listen to his lungs and make sure his airway was clear even before my doctor arrived, so while he and I were still connected.  I can't imagine a more ideal situation.  I know no one says that about having their baby on the side of the road but what I really mean is, I can't imagine any other set of circumstances in which all those strong desires of my heart would be met so perfectly.  I choose to see the perfection in this way rather than the obvious deficiencies. 

The other hopes I had were that I could avoid anesthesia (I felt like I couldn't, physically, with my 2 inductions), retain our placenta, and delay his first bath.  Those, while secondary, were all met as well.

The whole story of Sam's birth is very dramatic seeming and movie-like but in actuality, it was very uncomplicated and not nearly as scary as it might seem.  I feel like it happened just the way it was supposed to happen and I wouldn't have wanted to share it with anyone other than my amazing husband.  I know he was floored when it was actually happening and shocked but he kept his cool so well.  He was amazingly supportive.  He was calm as I contracted in the car, reminding me how well I was doing breathing, offering me his arm to abuse through contractions, insisting it didn't hurt (um, I'm stronger than that...), and BELIEVING me when I told him it was time, even though he was skeptical.  Our sweet Sam just had to make his way into the world with at least as much dramatic flair as his brother.  I do hope they can curb the competition here, or I won't last many years as their mama - haha.


Many people expressed an interest in Ted's thoughts on the situation and he was able to be persuaded to jot down his recollections.  Below is his "side" or perspective of the events and they are very... Ted.  I didn't alter a thing (though I was temped to edit for content).

It was a dark and dreary night just after 1am when my dear wife awoke me from a deep slumber. “Honey, get up, my water just broke. We need to go to the hospital.” I asked how I could help her, she told me to grab a towel. I did so. She then wriggled like a worm backward until her backside was hanging off the bed. It was humorous to watch but I knew better then to laugh in this circumstance. Kelly eventually stood up and I gave her the towel and she went to the bathroom. I called her mom who said very sleepily, “hello” I replied It’s go time, her water just broke.” She said she would be on her way over. Mary was watching our other kids while we went to have the baby. Kelly said her contractions were about 5 mins apart now and she needed new pants. I went searching for a pair of pants that Kelly had requested and I couldn’t find them. I changed in about 3 seconds and had my shoes on. I brought Kelly my sleep shorts. She said okay because they were loose fitting on her. Kelly asked for a priesthood blessing, which I promptly gave her and felt like I could use one myself, but alas, I can’t bless me. God gave Kelly and I comfort through this blessing. 

Mary arrived and we got all our things gathered and in the car. I forgot the phone charger, Mary went back inside to grab that and I kicked as much of the dog food back in the storage container as I could. “Stupid Doug, At least he ate as much as he could for his last meal. Glad he’s going away in a few hours.” Kelly had a large bath towel she folded in half to sit on. 

It was then 1:37am when we pulled out of the drive. I had made up my mind we would be driving very fast and I was hoping we would get pulled over so I would have a police escort. We did not.  On the I10, I was going between 95 and 100 MPH for that rocking 10 miles or so. At one point, we both got a scare as a guy’s flatbed trailer’s tire exploded in front of us, and a piece of the tire hit our windshield. It was about at this point, Kelly started kneading my right forearm. Man alive, she has a good grip. She should maybe be a masseuse. Though if she were doing shoulders she should use a little less grip. 

Off the free way now and onto HWY 191. I totally ran that stop sign and didn’t even care. Sign reads 37 miles to Safford. I think “Oh great, I hope we make it.” I get right back up to speed now going between 100 and 105 as the right forearm is sure not to have any hair left on it from the kneading. We get into Graham County and Kelly is kneading my arm for 1 min and not for 1 min now. I am praying we make it to the hospital. I tell Kelly she’s doing a great job breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She says “Thanks for the reminder, we’re not going to make it.” I say “okay time to put the hammer down.” I floor the gas pedal. We then go 110 MPH and the governor kicks in and won’t let me go any faster. 

Just after the highway goes from 4 lanes to 2 lanes, Kelly tells me we’re not going to make it and we need to pull over and have the baby. I think, we just need to go faster, if she can hold out for another 7 or 8 minutes we’ll be at the hospital. I try to go faster but the governor won’t let me. 110... that’s it... why does the speedometer go up to 125? Stupid car. I pull over.

I get out, run around the car, and open up Kelly’s door. Help her get her drawers down to her ankles.  I setup my flashlight app on my phone and wedge it in the window of the car door so I can see what’s going on. Didn’t know it before but that is why we don’t have square windows in cars. They couldn’t hold cell phone flashlights when needing to birth babies. I don’t see anything coming out except some discharge, I tell Kelly, its fine and we should really be going to the hospital. Did I check her cervix? Nope. Do I know what I’m doing? Nope. I have had some training in nursing school but not enough or recent enough to remember much. Kelly answers “No, were having the baby here.” 

I then go and get some more supplies, basically just hoodies from the backseat. We didn’t have any other towels. “Way to go Boy Scout” I tell myself. 

Just as I get back to Kelly’s door, 3 things happen. 1. A semi-truck passes going the other way, I wave and hope they stop so they can call an ambulance. 2. The weather changes and it starts to drizzle. 3. Sam’s head comes out. 

I look at my beautiful and wife and think, She is amazing. How is she doing this on the side of the road, in a car? I then grab the sleeve of one of my sweaters and wipe off the baby’s face and head, making sure to clear the nostrils and mouth. I tell Kelly she is doing great and to wait until the next contraction to push out the baby’s body. About 30 seconds later, the kid goes from facing the ground turning to the left and now the body is out and is face up. I think, wow that wasn’t so hard, what time is it? My watch says 2:00am. The cord is wrapped under both arms and behind his neck, I untangle that as I’m giving the baby to Kelly. I check the gender, he has huge balls! “HE’S A BOY!!!!!! Yahoo!!!!!” Kelly is smiling her super smile. I think man “she is hot.” I grab the sweater with both clean arms and cover that baby up with it, it also cover’s my wife’s private parts so that’s good too. Kelly and I talk about the placenta for a minute and since it doesn’t appear to be coming out, we decide to get going to the hospital. With Kelly’s advice I take a couple pictures. Kelly tells me to call 911. I do. We get on the road. 

I’m back up to 85mph without a moment’s notice. 911 tells me Graham County will call me back. I get the call, they ask me where we found the baby? I tell them we didn’t find a baby but my wife just had our baby. They tell me to pull over and wait for the ambulance. I tell them NO WAY and go 90, giving them mile marker locations as we pass them. No other cars on the road. The 911 supervisor gets on the phone and tells me to stop driving. I tell him no. The ambulance meets up with us at Reddington Land and Cattle Company. I hang up. 2 big guys come to the car and I open Kelly’s door, they look at each other and one says “let’s just let him punch it with the car and we’ll follow.” I say “great.” We take off. I call L&D at the hospital, tell them to go to the ER as we’ll be there in a minute. 

As we pull up to the ER, there are 8 people out there waiting to help us. I know 4 of them from either school or they used to work with me. We go to L&D and the rest is boring old hospital stuff... the Dr got there shortly after we did and stitched Kelly up, the placenta was born. We stayed 16 hours and came home.

We name the boy Samuel Coy Crowder. Crowder is our last name of course. Coy was my Uncle Al’s middle name and this boy was Coy about the way he came into the world. It fits. Samuel... the name never crossed my mind, but it feels right for this little boy.

Other Crowder Kid Birth Stories:
Simon (This was a crazy one and some people have mentioned they hadn't heard it.)
Mer -  Haven't found where I recorded her's (publically) yet.  Will fill in later.