Monday, May 14, 2012


Still no photos, but I want to remember for all eternity how you think many flowers are called "cocktails" because you can't quite remember daffodils. You gave up your pacifier, and life has been a little extra hellish. You were so amazing on mothers day. You rode your new big girl trail a bike for over 7 miles in the hot sun and loved every minute of it without a single complaint. I could have gone 20 miles and you would have still been pedaling in your pink plaid shorts, pink shirt, sunglasses and piggy tails. You seem so big most days, that it gives me pause and makes me realize that successfully raising you means someday you'll fly the nest. All too soon, I'm sure. I'll just keep loving you every minute of every day. The good minutes and the hard minutes too while I can.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

9 months

You know it's been a while since you last wrote a blog post when you can't even remember the address for it. Also, this blog is a victim of too much technology. The apparatus I'm posting on is both uncooperative and hard to upload photos to currently, so this is just words on a screen.

boy child has hit the nine month mark. Both agonizingly slowly and terrifyingly fast. He is keeping up in the world in the 90th % in height and up to an amazing 30% in weight. A vast improvement over the 5% and falling at the end of last year. Solid foods as supplement seem to serve him well. Very well. He loves to eat anything and everything. Almost 30 inches and closing in on 20 lbs. He boasts a very proficient low crawl ordering on the real thing and he loves to stand. Much to our chagrin, but inevitable, he can pull up to standing in his crib (playpen really) and tonight it got lowered. Big S took some great photos of boy child pulling up the way he took photos of girl child, but, you'll have to imagine it for now.
He really does mean te world to me, despite my fears of not having aclue what to do with a boy. Visions of horrible outcomes ran through my mind As he had a fever last night, following a few shots, which he got despite having a slight rash. He is so personable and social and cute! I know t's my job to think he's cute, but I was vindicated when he doctor even said he wins the cutest baby of the week-at least- award.

Girl child still rocks our world. Ever observant big S noticed that yesterday, she looked at a situation from both points of view and empathized with both. Not sure what lottery I won to get such amazing kids,but I know I am so thankful for both of them that I am in awe of how much I love them. This first day of soggy spring, I feel so lucky.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

New Year's Eve

I was pretty much ready to call this the worst new year's ever after spending an hour trying to get the baby to sleep on a night I was trying to get him to bed early, and him not sleeping meant I couldn't get the overtired oldest one to bed early either. I was feeling stressed and mad at the world for it not following my plans and frankly, feeling a little sorry for myself. As I rang in the east coast new year by showering (I know glamorous ain't it) I reflected back on a blog I had read a few years ago. It was written by the mom who had a daughter dying of cancer. She talked about how we spend so much time trying to get our kids to sleep, and now that her daughter was in the end stage of her life, she only had the energy to sleep, and how all she wished for was for her daughter to be awake. Remembering that was the perspective I needed. I might be going to bed at 9:00 and the highlight of my night was a cocktail some hours earlier and the aforementioned shower, but this year added a very important small human to my life and those two amazing small humans may be horrible sleepers, but I can roll into 2012 (probably much earlier in the am than I would like) being thankful that I am so blessed with two amazing little beings.

Friday, July 08, 2011

Thomas’ birth story

Read at your own risk. Since Sofia’s was in the blog, I will subject you to Thomas’ also.

In case it’s not your cup of tea, here’s a photo of me seeing him for the first time and then you can skip the rest of this post.


(I have no earthly idea what I’m wearing)

The week before his birthing day, I had kind of felt crampy off and on. But at 39 weeks, nothing too surprising. They always seemed to subside after laying down a few hours. On Saturday, feeling it again and trying to find ways to induce labor, a friend says what worked for her is letting her husband drink too many beers. Then, when she NEEDED to go to the hospital, she almost had to drive herself. Also remember another friend who went into labor with a hungover husband. Tell Big S to start drinking! Go to bed, text him a few hours later that I feel fine, go ahead and tip a few back, who knows how many more nights he’ll have that option.

Then, about 12:30 realize that this feeling is back and not going away. In fact, it’s actually more of a problem, preventing sleep. Start to read a while. About 1:30 a.m. tell Big S to get to bed, who knows how much more sleep he’s going to get tonight. Plus, sitting up in his recliner is more comfortable. After a few hours of reading through contractions, decide they are getting a little more serious and meet the guidelines for calling the midwife. About 3:30 call in, they ask if I want to go now or now. I’m fine waiting. They recommend laboring in the tub. Voila! My vision of laboring in the hot tub can be realized. Hang out in there, reading and being in labor with the contractions getting stronger until I can’t read through them anymore. Enjoy the pre-dawn view and impending sunrise. Try and hold out until 6:00 am so Big S gets a few hours of sleep, remembering the sleepless marathon of Little S’ birth. Manage until about 4:30 or 5:00 am and realize if I don’t get out of the hot tub now, I’m not going to be able to get out, and despite joking around about giving birth in there, it’s not actually my plan.

Tell Big S it’s time to go. Contractions stop me in my tracks now. Get the baby monitor to my sister and two steps before the car, my water breaks. Accuse husband of taking bumpiest road possible. And, for looking for every bump he can as he wheels me to Labor and Delivery. Give requested “specimen”  and FREAK OUT that it’s green. That means meconium and that’s not good. Start to abandon hope for VBAC. Lean against wall during contraction accidentally setting off the “help me now” button. Which sends a cadre of nurses scrambling to the room. Oops. Manage to do that about 5 or 6 more times  during labor. Consequently, husband gets good at recognizing it right away and hitting the cancel button.

Now we’re getting intense. And I’m yelling louder. Screaming is more apt. Possibly even shrieking in pain. It’s no silent Scientologist birth, that’s for sure. Get to the point where the pain is constant with no break between contractions. Have nearly; broken my husbands hand, fingers, strangled him, broken his ribs, practically chewed a hole in his shirt, deafened him… Probably more things to, those are just what I remember and remember feeling badly about. At the point I’m on the floor, under the bed (getting in touch with my inner cavewoman perhaps?) accidentally rip out the IV line in my arm (no memory of that, just a gnarly bruise for 2 weeks and a permanent bloodstain on DH’s pants) am now screaming for pain meds for me and for the sake of everyone around me. The get me into the bed, calmed down a little, and decide the epidural is coming. Like little S, I’ve only gone from 6 to 7 cm in 3 hours of pain, and getting me to relax is the best course of action. At this point, am told that if baby doesn’t descend more, there’s a good chance of a repeat c-section. At this point, that sounds better than continuing the way it’s going in excruciating pain. Manage to hold still for the epidural somehow, possibly knowing the outcome of NOT holding still when someone is putting needles in your spine. It’s now 8:00 or 8:30. Become sane again. Tell husband to go get himself food. Piece together that a c-section isn’t for sure the outcome yet, I get to try pushing if baby descends.

A little after 10:00, a get to start pushing. Unlike with Little S, I can’t actually feel the urge to push, but, I follow instructions and push when they tell me. It seems like even though the midwife is encouraging me and telling me how good I’m doing that there isn’t any progress. I’m nothing if not stubborn, so resolve to push even harder. At some point, get word that the baby is kind of stuck, shades of Little S. It feels like it’s been a while and I’m expecting them to call it off any minute now. They were only going to give me an hour of pushing and if baby is stuck, well… it is what it is. It’s now the last "chance”. Giving everything I've got, the midwife has me feel the head. Oh my gosh! A fuzzy little head about to emerge. I’m home free. I’m going to do this! After what still seems like forever, the baby is born! 11:04 a.m.

But, because of the meconium, and because I’m Group B strep positive, he’s tended to right away. I ask Big S what it is, and he emotionally tells me it’s a boy! Baby Thomas, named after my father, born on Father’s day. But, his breathing isn’t strong. They take him to the nursery and Big S goes too. Come to find out that his umbilical cord also broke on birth, so he didn’t quite get all the blood he should have either. (and, it made for quite the horror show. Pools of blood, splashed even over my head!)There is talk of needing to transport him to NICU, they can’t get an IV in and the veins in his extremities are collapsing. But, after hours of trying, his color is coming back on his own, and, they get the IV in through his umbilical cord! At 3:00, I’m okay to get wheeled in to go see him. Watch the doctors for a while (hours?) and finally get to hold him. Ask to nurse him, and wow! First time is a charm. Latches like a pro and nurses happily. Very good and good for his recovery too. Go back in every 3-4 hours throughout the night to nurse and cuddle him. By about 11:00 am Monday, he’s cleared to come back to the room with us. Hooray! Now family like can begin.


Tuesday, July 05, 2011



Thomas John Korpi




8 pounds, 7 oz.


22.5 inches


11:04 a.m.


Sunday, December 05, 2010

The cutting o’the tree

It was Sunday and it wasn’t raining. Perfect conditions to go on the hunt for the annual Lorpi Christmas Tree. Since Little S was in utero, we’ve been going to a great U-cut place in Oregon City. Trees! Sheep! Lamb pepperoni! (Boy, that’s going to be hard to explain someday)

It’s so great as she gets older and has a better idea of what Christmas is about. She gets about 60% of it. Christmas trees are exciting. Lights are exciting. Presents are exciting. Santa is exciting. He comes in a sleigh with reindeer. The fact that he brings presents while you sleep hasn’t quite been fully connected yet. And, she keeps wanting us to take her to Christmas. We haven’t listened to that much Christmas music, but this morning she was singing “down through the chimney click, click, click”. Yesterday was “cradle, cradle, cradle, I made you out of clay”. Dreidel not being a word she hears every day.

The fetching o’the tree was much anticipated and used as heavily as possible to bribe her into nap time. (“after nap, we’re going to go get our tree”) . On arrival, she got right down to business, finding us the perfect tree


So, we then had to tell her to find one as tall as Daddy. But, we found her one her size to hold with her as we walked IMG_2687

After Dad scoped out the perfect one, we wanted to get a picture of it in it’s natural environment


Little S was so fascinated with the machine that shook the needles off and the tube they put it through to wrap it in netting for the trip home. She really wanted her tree to go in there too. And on top of the car, but we convinced her to keep it with her instead.

The end result? Well, that’s still on top of the car, waiting for pizza night to settle before we drag it off and cut it down to size in the chilly, windy night air. Hopefully we’ll get a photo of it sometime between now and New Years.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

a sleddin’ we will go

We had been planning to go sledding on Tuesday. However, the weather was throwing a curveball. Chance of snow in Portland, and getting really cold. The town shuts down with snow, so, I wasn’t optimistic we would get to go anywhere, except maybe sledding at the park. Well, the snow never arrived in much quantity, and fortunately everything mostly dried out before the cold hit so we weren’t battling a giant skating rink, so we decided to pack up and hit the mountain.

Little S was sufficiently excited. She helped make “puppy chow”. Although she asked what it was and told me she didn’t like it. Then I told her it had chocolate and peanut butter and she said “that sounds so yummy”.

Well, the roads down here were pretty good, save a few icy spots, the roads closer to the mountain were more treacherous. Big S hauled out the tire chains and got us chained up and safely on our way again. What a great guy. Once we got into areas with snow at the side of the roads, Little S kept saying “Wow. Look at all the snow!” After a really long drive, we finally get to a sledding hill. Get bundled up and ready to go play in the snow.


As Dad learned last winter when he took her skiing, one of her favorite things to do is eat snow. Convincing her NOT to eat the snow off of her boot from the parking lot took some work, but we finally got to some nice, fluffy, safe to eat snow.


Well, the allure of snow and sledding SOUNDED good to Little S. But the reality of it held much less appeal. It probably didn’t help that the sled was so slippery


Mommy and Sofia took a few runs on the sled, and at the bottom, she wanted to go again, but walking up the hill wasn’t much fun, and riding in the sled up the hill wasn’t fun either since she kept falling out of it, and it was at some crazy, bumpy angles that worried her. One of the problems with really deep snow and a 2.5 year old. Deep? how deep? Well, the dog got into a hole and had to get help from Big S to get out IMG_2656

We really didn’t bury her in the snow. It was that deep in some spots.

Little S was quickly tiring of this, and probably cold too. We knew it was bad when she was asking to go back to the car and take a nap! We did convince her to put her skis on for a few minutes though IMG_2662

But, she was pretty much dead weight with rubber legs and my back is paying the price today. A promise of hot chocolate and puppy chow perked her up and motivated her towards the car, where we discovered something new about her. At first we were worried it was frostbite, but as we watched, we think the color just changes from her apple-cheeked redness back to it’s normal color in a very obvious way


If you look closely, you’ll see white circles on her red cheeks. The circles grew until her cheeks were the same color they normally are.

Despite her tears, frustration and spending lots of time in the snow, not on it, when you ask her if she had fun sledding and skiing, the answer is a definitive “yes” and she can’t wait to go again. Hopefully next time will be even more fun!