Twice blessed

This week I had the AMAZING opportunity to welcome not one, but TWO beautiful babies into the world.

On Monday at 5:47 a.m., I found out the baby Liam was coming. Later that day, I met him. He was a big boy with a healthy head of beautiful curly hair. He weighed in at 9 lbs. 12 oz. and 22 inches.

















Here are a few photos.














Sorry about the fuzziness--Mama and baby!











And there is proud Papa and his boy!



Now some Mama with the other kids!






























Congratulations on baby Liam Scott!


Then my sweet baby sister had her first baby, Olivia, yesterday.
Here is the new mama and her cutie pie!

And the whole family--3 is the magic number!


Welcome sweet baby Olivia! She's no shrinking violet--9 lbs. 11 oz., 22 inches!

We love you both!!!

Our crazy/silly/roller-coastery story, part sixteen

Yep, it was the big day. I was very jittery getting ready, but Laurel saved the day and re-did the mess of hair I had made. I looked great, and I started to feel better and better. On the way to the temple I thought about the journey it had taken to get here. Definitely a roller coaster. But I had learned so much and grown and I was ready to take the big step of marrying my sweetheart for time and all eternity.

I don't remember much of that day, but a few things shine through. I remember Mr. TD&H stepping out of the car to greet me, and promptly dropping his white bow tie on the ground and stepping on it. I just had to laugh. He looked long and deep into my eyes, intense and hopeful, and I once again knew I had made the right choice.

I remember feeling so pampered and well-taken-care-of in the holy temple. I remember being surrounded by those who meant the most to me, especially that great man who was willing to go through this earthly journey with me through ups and downs. I knelt across the altar, clasped his hand, and tried to listen to the sealer without getting lost in those beautiful brown eyes. Every once in a while he would squeeze my hand and his eyes would twinkle. I loved thinking about the blessings and responsibilities that were now and would be mine if I was faithful. I felt an outpouring of love and gratitude that I was there in that holy place, making promises to him and my Heavenly Father. I have felt His help from that moment on. I have always felt that the word "sealed" meant so much more that day. We were now one, leaving our own families to start our own, turning to each other and God to make it through.

I remember exiting the temple doors, my arm around my husband(!!!)'s waist, and beaming at all our friends and family that had come to be with us. What joy! We made it! We took picture after picture, laughing and smiling, being goofy and solemn, just grateful that we took the plunge!

I don't remember much more about the day, a whirlwind of luncheons and receptions, make-up and hair refreshing, and thanking people and receiving congratulations. I do remember being so grateful that the important part of the day had gone so seamlessly, so beautifully.

I am glad to be married to my best friend. Life isn't without its trials, but it is priceless to be able to struggle through it with one who loves you. That has been my greatest gift.

P.S. I will post photos, but right now my scanner is on the fritz. I promise that photos are forthcoming!

Our crazy/silly/roller-coastery story, part fifteen

Mr. TD&H flew out the day before the wedding. The day before that he called me, a little concerned.

"Um, we have a problem with the tux," he sputtered.

I think I was putting up a very heavy piece of wallpaper at that moment, the phone cradled between my ear and my shoulder.

"WHAAAT?" My not-so-calm voice went up about an octave and a half.

"Well, I went in to get my measurements taken, and I gave them the numbers I just got when I ordered my wedding suit. Somehow they got all messed up."

"How?" I demanded.

"I don't think you want to know," he mumbled.

"Oh yes, I do," I sarcastically spat back.

"Let me paint you a picture. The jacket is about 3 sizes too big. The vest is too short. The shirt collar is about two inches too big and the sleeves are about 4 inches above my wrists. At least the pants are long enough but the waist is a size too small. I look ridiculous."

I felt my pulse start to race. You may think that I should have told him to just go and get another tux. The only problem would be that Mr. TD&H is not an exaggeration. Emphasis on the T. 6'8" to be precise. Not an easy body to clothe on short notice.

I think he knew I was starting to panic.

He tried to make me feel better.

"The guy at the tux shop gave me some fake cuffs that we can tape on to my forearms so that it looks like the shirt sleeves are just fine."

Even now I can't help laughing out loud. Really loud.

Taping cuffs to your arms? Are you kidding me? Who does that?

The answer would be: Mr. TD&H.

When he flew in the next day, my first request (after a much needed hug and kiss or two :) was to see the tux. When we walked in the door of my house, I made him put it on to see what we could do.

He looked great. Even in a HORRIBLE tux. I guess it pays to be not only tall, but also dark and handsome. (Emphasis on the handsome!)

I don't think anyone knew that his shirt collar was folded at the back of the neck and held together with his bow tie. Or that I could grab a couple fist-fulls of his jacket behind his back and it would still be loose. Or that we pulled the adjustable neck-part of the vest all the way out to accomodate the beautifully long torso of Mr. TD&H (and that you could see the clasp in only a few wedding pictures).

Oh, and the magic cuffs. He just needed to be sure NOT to take off his jacket.

Our crazy/silly/roller-coastery story, part fourteen

During that crazy work-filled week, I was talking to my eldest sister. She was the only married sibling I had. She was so excited to have me join the ranks of the happily hitched.

We were talking about finishing details when she looked at me with concern in her eyes.

"What about pictures? Who is your photographer?" she quietly asked.

"Oh, we aren't having one. We thought we could just deal with snapshots here and there," I casually responded. (You will see that this was often my normal response.)

"Oh yes, you will," she countered. "You will regret it if you don't have good pictures."

Honestly, I hadn't even given it a thought. Ever.

I am thrifty by nature, and a wedding photographer was just an unnecessary expense in my very-inexperienced-with-weddings mind.

So my dear sister called her friend from Santa Cruz. Melisa was just starting up a photography business and needed some wedding shots for her portfolio. She jumped at the chance.

So, thanks to Kristin (and Melisa), I had a wedding photographer.

And, yes, I would have regretted it if I hadn't any pictures to physically document our amazing day. In my bedroom right now there are no less that 10 wedding photos on my walls. I am so grateful that we were captured, so beautiful, so full of love, so happy.

At another moment, my almost-mother (mom's best friend) Marylyn sat me down to talk about the honeymoon. And no, not that talk. About where we would stay. We hadn't planned that either. (I know--how insane!!! But, in my defense, we only had 5 weeks AND we were in school. Does that excuse us? Please?)

She called Mr. TD&H and together they arranged a beautiful several days in Carmel and Monterey. She even footed half the bill! Thank you, Whattie!

As I think back, I can't believe how many important things I had dismissed as trivial and unnecessary. And I am awestruck at how merciful the Lord was in inspiring people to lovingly put us on the right track that would help us make our wedding experience a time we would never forget.

***revision***
I completely mis-represented my sweetheart in this post (not too badly, though). He DID plan a honeymoon for us (at least one night) which was amazing and fabulous. Thank you, sweetie! I didn't want anyone to think he was completely off his rocker in not planning anything.

Our crazy/silly/roller-coastery story, part thirteen

Fast forward four weeks. During that time I studied, did finals, and tried to plan a wedding. What a joke! Thank goodness for my mom and Gerry Y. who took our plans from earlier in the year and made them happen (along with so many helpers!-thank you!!!).

I was going to tell the long, drawn-out, horrific story of the announcements, but I just don't want to. At least, not in detail To make a long, painful story short--I ordered them (expedited) to be shipped ASAP. The day after I was supposed to receive them, I called and they told me that they never received the order. AAAAACK! I called and hysterically told my big sister (very experienced in customer service) what had happened, but not even Laurel could pull out a miracle on that one (much to my shocked surprise--thanks again, sis!). So I found some paper at the stationery store, went to a printer, and got announcements made (photocopied--can you believe the faux pas-ery of it all?).

Well, I am here to tell you that you can get married even if you have photocopied announcements. Who knew?

I flew home a week before the wedding. I walked into a beehive of activity. As a little background, my family seems to need a deadline to get major things done. My little sister and I had provided the deadline--wedding receptions to be held in our backyard. My mom thought she had until the middle of September to get ready, but then I sprang my wedding needs on her only a few weeks before the big day. Boy, I was in for a week of work!

We laid tile in the whole kitchen/family room, recarpeted (I think), rewallpapered the downstairs bathroom (plaid--not a good idea in a time crunch--FYI!), the family room (can we say Hallelujah for wallpaper that can be hung upside down and no one will know?), repainted ALL the trim, etc. And that was only inside the house (where no one would be except the kitchen helpers)!

The backyard renovation included restaining the deck, ripping out the hideous pine tree in the corner, cutting back the iceplant (oh how many stories I could tell about the summer days shen we were supposed to be cutting back the iceplant!), weeding the bark sections and laying new bark, planting HUNDREDS of flowers and shrubs, laying stepping stones between the fence gate and deck, and SO MUCH MORE!

I couldn't believe how tired I was each night as I went to bed. I was supposed to be getting mani/pedis and facials and sitting in the sun with cucumbers over my eyes, right? I guess there was no rest for the wicked (or engaged!).

The work took its toll on my hands. I couldn't get all the dirt out from under my anemic and chipped nails, so I took a drastic measure: acrylic nails for my big day. Just so you know, I bit my fingernails until I was well into my college career (and only stopped then when a classical guitar-playing quasi-boyfriend of mine told me he thought it was absolutely GROSS). I am a pianist. I don't like long nails, but I figured I needed to not look like Ms. Bride Hamburger Hands on my wedding day. I remember the nail tech staring at me in unbelief when I told her how short I wanted my nails to be. She thought it was blasphemy to have them shorter than an inch and a half. But I got my way, and left thinking that my hands looked pretty good.

But my pain was nothing compared to what Mr. TD&H would go through with his tux...

Sneak preview

I am going to tell the story behind this picture after I finish our rollercoaster of a courtship. Our anniversary is just a week away, so I'll be wrapping up soon. But not too soon that there won't be more drama...

Our crazy/silly/roller-coastery story, part twelve

So, I was a believer! But Mr. TD&H and I were still technically "seeing other people." Our little date the night before hadn't changed anything, right?

Yeah, right.

I remember the next part very well. I was sitting at my desk, looking at the computer, when the phone rang. I picked it up, and immediately the caller said,

"So how do you feel about getting married before school starts for the fall?"

My heart leaped in my chest. The proposal I had been waiting for!

I chose my words carefully.

"I'd love to. But we have to be really organized or I know I'll freak out again."

Ah, romance. The telephone call/proposal. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't surprised or offended. I was too happy to be either of those. It was all falling into place (after being a roller coaster for far too long).

He was just as giddy as I was. The rest was all a blur. I hung up the phone, floating on cloud nine. My name? I couldn't remember that right now--I had more important things to dream about.

Just then I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. July 15. School was starting again the first week of September. That was six weeks away. And I had to get married and have some semblance of a honeymoon before that. The butterflies in my stomach morphed into falcons and they were diving every few seconds. Do NOT freak out, I told myself. OK--short list: call the temple, get a dress, get announcements...oh, and tell our parents. That's not too bad, right? After all, we had planned a wedding earlier this year. We just had to put all the plans back into motion.

And did I mention that my little sister was getting married on September 12? And that they had planned it for months? I wasn't stealing her thunder, was I? I was probably stealing more thunder from her future hubby than from her. She and I had always been the most laid back girls in my family about stuff like this. I didn't think she'd mind (and she didn't--or at least she didn't tell me!).

So I called the Oakland temple and set the date for Saturday, August 23. As I look back on it now, how in the world did I get an August Saturday (in a big sealing room, no less) five weeks before the wedding. I don't remember very clearly, but maybe Whattie (my second mom, Marylyn) pulled some strings. She had been working at the temple for quite a while, and it is just like her to try to smooth my path a little bit--or a lot. So we were set on the temple date.

Next came the dress. I was so worried about this part. I remembered all to well the desolation I felt when I couldn't find anything I liked. I walked in with a prayer in my heart, and I was not disappointed. I fell in love with the second dress I looked at and, wonder of wonders, it looked fabulous on me! I coudn't believe how much I was being helped and watched over. A shopping excursion may not be reason for a tender mercy for everyone, but for me it was undoubtedly a divine shove in the right direction from my loving Father. Even with the hemming that needed to be done, it would be ready in plenty of time (will the miracles ever cease? i hoped not!). Two things checked off my short list.

During this whirlwind week, I got asked to speak in Sacrament Meeting in my ward. I fished around for a suitable topic, and then settled on the week's most important bit of gospel doctrine--stepping out into the dark with faith. I reminisced on the spiritual journey I had recently taken as I prepared--grateful that the Lord had given me such an amazing discovery at such a critical time. When I sat at the front of the room waiting for the service to begin, I was handed a legal pad with a question--"What is something that not many people know about you?" I figured it would be used as part of the introduction for each speaker. I hesitated only a moment, and then scribbled, "I just got engaged." As the paper left my hands, I panicked. What if this all doesn't work out? My dating chances will be killed in this ward if I say I'm engaged and then it doesn't happen! I gave myself a mental slap-in-the-face. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, I shrieked at my subconscious. Everything will be fine. For heaven's sake--practice what you preach, girl! Aren't you about to pontificate on the merits of moving forward in faith? You should be ashamed of your unbelief! In a matter of moments, I had been faithful, freaked out, scolded, humbled, and recommitted. (Maybe I should have been committed instead--to a looney bin!) As I renewed my desire to marry my sweetheart despite any thorns in my path, I felt again a wave of peace and joy. Heavenly Father wasn't leaving me on my own. He knew this choice was a difficult and important one. He stood by my decision, and He was also willing to remind me of its divine approval.

The member of the bishopric conducting that day was Darin. I don't usually call members of the bishopric by their first names, but Darin was different. He was a frequent visitor to our apartment--I think he had a crush on Emma, my roommate. As he stood to announce my talk, he said my name and, with a huge smile on his face, he continued, "I've been wanting to announce this next information for a long time. Melanie has just gotten engaged to the tall Canadian sitting in the back of the room." Right then I heard a gasp--a very loud gasp that carried through the entire auditorium. Mr. TD&H later told me who it was--a girl he had dated last year (who was still in the ward). It wasn't that she was horrified, just surprised that I was marrying a guy she had dated. She was happy for both of us and a little embarrassed by her outburst. I just thought it was funny and a tiny bit weird. No big deal. But my re-confirmation of my decision had been a very big deal for me. Full steam ahead!