Christmas!

We're going backwards! Here are some pictures from Christmas...

Helping Daddy decorate the tree The Christmas countdown chain Abigail and I made
One of Abigail's favorite toys is a "Little People" Christmas Nativity set, which she plays with all year long. She loves to reenact the story of Jesus's birth--starting with the angel's announcement to Mary: "Don't be afraid, Mary. God has chosen you!" (It really cracks me up to hear my two-year-old say this!) But her favorite part of the whole thing is crowding all the people and animals around the manger to look at baby Jesus. ("Come see the newborn King! Everyone can come!") This is the part she always drags Erik and/or me over to see. So precious!

Christmas morning at our house, opening a present from Grandma Weiler, who knows the perfect gift for a two-year-old...

Oh, someday I'm going to miss this wonderful age when breakfast cereal is no longer the most exciting Christmas present ever...

Later on that afternoon at Grandma Heiss's house: Here are Erik's dad and younger brother, Ben--one in his Christmas pajamas because he got to sleep in and the other in his hospital scrubs because he did not get to sleep in!

Making a cool bead necklace with Grandma Heiss, definitely a big hit. She wore it around her neck till she went to bed that night.

Waiting patiently for her next turn...

We all enjoyed watching Abigail open her presents. It was the same reaction every time: the jaw would drop as she started to unwrap the gift, we would all ask in unison "What is it?!" Then, still wearing her this-is-the-best-present-any-kid-could-dream-for expression, she would say, "I don't know!"
A cookie set!
Looking through Great-grandma Bankhead's new "brag book" from all the grandkids!
Wonderful Aunt Gayle taking care of Anne

We even witnessed a Christmas miracle: they all played with their own presents!

Except for Uncle Dave. He played with Emmy's.

Great-grandma and grandpa Heiss came down from Michigan to celebrate too.

Here's Abigail trying out the gift Santa brought for Mommy and Daddy!

The sweetest gift of all

Somehow I don't have any pictures to show for the time we spent with my side of the family! (probably because I'm always too caught up enjoying the company and conversation that I never think of getting the camera out of the diaper bag...) Guess I'll have to "borrow" some from one of my more responsible siblings and post them later!

"We a whole family!"

We're just so happy to have our little Anne with us. After four weeks of hearing about but never getting to see her little sister, Abigail is quite protective of her "baby Anne." When Erik had to take her (Anne) to the hospital this week for a hip ultrasound (routine for breech babies--the results came back normal), Abigail became quite distraught, sobbing "Don't take baby sister to the hospital!" until we distracted her by offering to take her across the street to cousin Clark's house to play. She was very glad to discover, upon her return, that Daddy and baby Anne were safely home.

Our little Anne has definitely put on some baby fat over the last three weeks she's been home. Mommy's milk is the best!

Come on, Anne--don't be shy! Baby fat's a good thing!

During Anne's time in the hospital, Abigail would often remark during mealtimes, with a sad face, that "we were not a whole family." Now whenever we're all sitting together on the couch or kneeling down for family prayer, she takes the opportunity to point out, with that heart-melting two-year-old smile of hers, "We a whole family!"

Yes, we are.

Happy New Year!

Here's our 2009 family newsletter, which I've finally gotten around to writing.

Dear family and friends,

Happy New Year!

This past year was an exciting one for our family! This summer we were delighted to discover that baby girl #2 was on the way! Her expected arrival was in early January, so we told Abigail for several months that baby sister was coming around Christmas time. As it turned out, baby sister couldn't wait that long!

Anne Marie Heiss took us all by surprise on November 16th, when she decided to join our family seven weeks before her due date. She weighed 4 lbs. 3 oz. but measured the same--18 inches--as Abigail did at 39 weeks. She was a little jaundice, and her lungs needed some help opening up, but other than that, we were blessed with a strong, healthy little girl. Her lungs matured quickly, and she made steady progress in the NICU over the next four weeks. It was a challenging time for our family, but we had much to be thankful for, especially to have the love and support of both our families here in Atlanta. The prayers and faith of friends and family sustained us, and we were delighted to have Anne home with us for Christmas and to introduce her (finally!) to her big sister.

"Big sister" is thrilled with her new role in the family and loves to hold baby Anne whenever Mommy lets her (and sometimes when she's not looking). Abigail has astonished us this year by how much she has learned and grown. Sometimes--like when she's throwing a tantrum on the floor or flatly refusing to get out of the car/into her bed/away from the candy at the checkout line or insisting that candy cane-striped pants and a hot pink cupcake shirt do match--we are reminded that she's only two years old. At other times--like when she's giving us the nutritional breakdown of the food we are eating at breakfast ("Do you know that milk has lots of calcium in it? That gives us strong bones!") or naming the birthday months of all her extended family members or translating Spanish to English--we wonder how we're ever going to keep up with her. We have also observed that Abigail is very musically inclined. She loves to learn new songs, and not only does she memorize lyrics quickly, she stays remarkably in tune! She has shown us over and over again that she can learn just about anything if we make up a song about it. She entertains herself (and anyone within earshot) all day long with her sweet singing and creative play. This has been a great blessing to her mother as she is learning to juggle new responsibilities and demands on her time! Abigail's sweet laughter and smiles and unrestrained affection, her energy and enthusiasm for learning and exploring, and her eagerness to please are constant reminders to us of why the Savior has admonished us all to become like little children.

This was definitely a red-letter year for Erik, starting with "Match Day" in mid-March where we learned that he would be doing his 3-year pediatric residency here at Emory! It was a difficult decision at the time, but we felt good about ranking Emory first, and we've been counting our blessings ever since! Erik graduated from Emory with his MD and master's in public health in May. His father, also a physician here in Atlanta, donned his own cap and gown for the event and got to "hood" Erik in the special medical class ceremony. It was an exciting milestone for the whole family, and we're very proud of him! Since starting residency in July, Erik has been working very hard (a gross understatement). Fortunately, he is enjoying it! He has already set himself apart by his charming personality, his limitless intellectual capacity, and by being the only resident at Emory who eats homemade wheat bread sandwiches for lunch every day. When he's not saving lives at the hospital or roughhousing with his favorite two-year-old or sleeping soundly in his bed, he can usually be found in some cozy corner of the house listening to L'Anita read Harry Potter. (She finally got him hooked!)

As wife, mother and Chief Financial Officer, L'Anita has stayed busy this year trying to keep up with the needs of her growing family while also juggling online classes and an in-home day care and running marathons in her spare time. Ok, not exactly. She did take on a full-time babysitting job for a month in the spring to help a friend, though (giving her a little taste of what life would be like juggling two!). And she did run a total of 120 miles--most of them during pregnancy!--to complete her jogging course. She continues to work toward her undergrad degree by taking classes through BYU Independent Study. L'Anita has made considerable progress in her Spanish while our family has attended a Spanish-speaking congregation for the last 18 months. Serving in the nursery, she spent a good part of each Sunday teaching young children. She learned a great deal herself about love and patience and is quite proficient in Spanish primary songs.

We love you all and wish you a happy 2010!

~The Heiss family

Erik, L'Anita, Abigail and Anne

Meet Anne

Our little Anne came 2 months early!

It was a long four weeks in the NICU, but we have our sweet little girl at home with us now. Here are a few pictures from the hospital.

Day 3 in the hospital--when I finally got to hold her

Anne came home on December 13th. Over the last three weeks, she has gained weight beautifully and is a joy to our family. I'll try to post some more recent pictures soon.

Thanks for all your faith and prayers.

Nocturnal living

There's been a lot more pouting than usual around our house lately, and I am just as guilty as the two-year-old here.

This week Erik started a 6-week-long night float duty at the children's hospital. We got a little taste of this kind of schedule last month, but this is the real deal.

I'm not the whining type, but if I were....Ok, so I am the whining type! And this night float business is not fun. I could go on and on about why I don't like it, but I won't because I know we're not the only family who has to endure a crazy schedule during the husband/father's vocational training. Fortunately, this blog is not my only means of venting. I regularly get to exchange sob stories with wonderful sisters and sisters-in-law who are all going through similar circumstances. Suffice it to say that this schedule is tough.

I think one of the hardest things to deal with is Abigail's response to this upheaval. She gets absolutely ecstatic when Daddy walks through the door at 9:30 or 10 every morning. She runs to him with a big hug and lots of news about potty-training progress, our plans for the day, what we ate for breakfast, etc. I can usually persuade her to let him eat something (as long as she can sit on his lap and "share" whatever it is) before she grabs him by the hand and drags him away to play with her. Erik's been such a sweetheart. I don't know what he's going on, but he always plays energetically with her and gives her his undivided attention. And when he does finally get into bed, Abigail follows him, insisting that she wants to go to bed too. She's invented a new game for them. She'll get under the covers with Erik, tell me they're sleeping, and after about five seconds, she'll pop out of the blanket yelling, "Berrrrrrriiiiinnnng!! Berrrriiinnnng!! Time to wake up!" To be repeated ten times. Now isn't that just the kind of game you would want to be playing after being on your feet all night? But you'd think from watching those two that there isn't a thing on earth that Daddy would rather be doing.

Unfortunately, though, Mommy intervenes eventually so Daddy can get some rest. But how do you explain to a two-year-old why Daddy suddenly starts showing up in the morning but can't play because he has to go to bed? And why we have to try to be quiet so he can sleep all day, but when he finally wakes up, the fun and games have hardly started before he has to shower, eat dinner, and go back to work? This must all be very confusing...

When it's time to say goodbye, Abigail grabs Erik's hand and says, "No, Daddy! No go to work! Stay here!" After he leaves she turns to me and starts to cry with such genuine disappointment that I am often at a loss for words and can only reach out and offer her a hug. Then she'll do something dramatic like throw herself on the floor or run and bury her face in the couch, and at this point the pregnancy hormones inside me have kicked in, and I start to sob as well. Without exception, this instantly quells the toddler tears as Abigail looks up at me with frightened red eyes and asks, "Are you happy?" When my only response is a trembling lip, she bursts into fresh sobs and says, "Mommy, be happy!" Then she runs to me, I scoop her up, and we cry on the couch together until Mom pulls it together, and then we have a very composed and mature discussion of why Daddy has to go to work.

I must say, though, that my job of explaining to Abigail why it's important that her daddy goes to work must be a lot easier and make at least a little more sense to a two-year-old mind than it would be if Erik weren't a doctor. I mean, doesn't "Daddy has to go take care of sick babies" sound pretty legitimate?

What do you say when Daddy has to stay late to work on somebody's taxes? Shannyn?

Abigail's been singing "If You Chance to Meet a Frown" a lot lately. Hmmm....

Traditions

One of my New Year's resolutions for 2009 was to bake bread instead of buy it. Unlike most of my resolutions, I have actually kept this one and am pretty proud of myself, especially since there were many times when I was morning sick that I really didn't feel up to it but did it anyway. I have to say that my greatest source of motivation on those days was my mother.

My mom has made bread for our family since she got married. It was one of those things I didn't think anything of when I was young because I saw it all the time and thought it was something all mothers did. As I got older, I learned to appreciate it more. But at first my appreciation was only for how delicious it tasted. Nothing in the world was so appealing to the senses as the sight, smell, and taste of fresh, warm wheat bread! I remember so many times coming home tired and discouraged from a long day of school, opening the door and finding myself enveloped by that warm aroma. On those days, mom's homemade bread was more than just a yummy after-school snack; it was...How can I describe it? It somehow represented all that was unchanging, familiar, and comforting about home. In my teenage world where there were so many variables and changes and things that didn't make sense, home was my refuge--my anchor. And the smell of warm bread at the door was like a welcoming voice saying, "You're home! This will always be here."

During my teenage years, I think I started to realize that homemade bread was something special that not everyone had. I started to think of it more as a tradition.

Whenever new people moved into our neighborhood growing up, Mom and Dad always made a point of taking the family to visit them. Mom always had a fresh loaf of bread to give them. Again, that didn't strike me as anything unusual at the time. In fact, I probably sometimes wondered to myself, "Why can't we ever bring something cool...like cookies or something?" But now I realize what a special and wonderful tradition it was, and I can imagine a little better now how warm a gesture it must have seemed to those new families. And the first time I took a fresh loaf of my own homemade bread to one of our neighbors, I also began to sense the fulfillment my mom must have felt over the years.

Don't get me wrong. I don't imagine my mother experienced a warm, fuzzy feeling every time she made bread. And I bet there were days when she didn't even feel like doing it. But she did, and I never remember her complaining. I wish I'd thanked her more. However, keeping her in mind on the days when I don't feel like doing something--whether it's making bread or cooking dinner or just getting up in the morning to take care of our family--has helped me learn to do hard things.....or easy things on the hard days....and do them cheerfully.

However, I really do get enjoyment most of the time from making bread. One of the things I enjoy is the opportunity it gives me to reflect on things. Sometimes I prop up a hymnbook and memorize some of my favorite hymns. Other times I just let my mind wander. But almost every time, at some point, my thoughts turn to my mom.

I see myself as a little kid, playing in the kitchen while she had the wheat grinder going. I liked the sound of it. I picture my mother's sweet face, glistening in sweat, her strong forearms (which I wish I'd inherited) covered in flour dust as she worked. I recall countless conversations with her, exchanged through the gap between cabinets and counter-top as I sat on a stool in the adjacent dining room, elbows propped up on the counter to support my chin. Some great teaching moments happened then, as I watched my mother knead bread and listened to her. I appreciate so much that she always took the time to teach, no matter what she was doing. And although I probably didn't realize it until later, she was teaching me not only through her words but through her hands, which were always busy doing something to serve others, usually our family.

As I've reflected on this tradition, it has made me think of other traditions my parents established in our home which I want to carry on in my own family. It's also made me reflect on what kind of traditions I want to start. Erik and I love the idea of our kitchen being a kind of "gathering place" for our kids and having the tradition of cooking together. Maybe it's good that we're starting out with two girls who can set the example and show their younger siblings that helping in the kitchen can be fun!

I try to encourage Abigail to join me whenever I'm making meals or baking things. She doesn't need much encouragement, though. She loves to be involved.

These pictures remind me of one of Abigail's favorite stories of late, "The Little Red Hen." Abigail loves to point out on each page that the cat, the dog, and the pig are not helping, but the Little Red Hen's chicks are!

My helpful little "chick." She has really enjoyed watching the wheat grinder at work since I got it back in May (from my grandpa's barn, where it had been stored--brand new--for 30 years! It was a little dusty but works beautifully!) I have consciously tried to make our bread-making a good bonding experience for us by giving her some latitude to participate. Sometimes it's a little hard, but I just remind myself of how much I want her to have fond memories of our time in the kitchen together.Keeping that in mind has really helped me not stress out as much or insist that things are done my way. It's helped me keep things in perspective and focus on enjoying being with her. Now it's easier for me to smile when she insists that we need every measuring utensil out on the counter and laugh when she tries to pinch off more of my dough (I always give her her own little portion when it's time to knead) because she needs to make "little baby ones" for her big "mommy one."

And I try to be patient when she asks for more flour every thirty seconds for her teeny piece of dough that's already caked in it.

I try to explain it, but she still doesn't understand why, after an hour, the dough in my bowl has risen while hers, which she has carefully placed in a measuring cup and covered with a napkin, is still just as stiff and flat as before.

I love this stage. There's just something very satisfying in seeing the loaves all lined up, perfectly risen, ready to go into the oven.

Mmm....

Thanks for this special tradition, Mom. And many more...

General Conference weekend

We had a wonderfully relaxing three-day weekend with Erik last week. We felt very fortunate that he was able to get this particular weekend off, since he only gets one "Golden Weekend" each month. We were happy to get this one because it was General Conference for our church, when we get to hear from our prophet and apostles.

Since the first session of Conference doesn't start until 12 on Saturday, we took a nice family hike at Stone Mountain in the morning. The weather was beautiful and I always enjoy hiking, but by far, the best thing was having Erik with us! The last few months have been so busy for him.

Enjoying the sunshine while we waited for the choo-choo train, which was probably the highlight of the morning for Abigail. She's hiding my big belly, by the way.

Taking a little snack break (sorry for the lighting in these pictures!)

Helping Daddy up the mountain

Most of our hike was in the woods. (Whenever we go into any forest, Abigail asks if it is the woods where Joseph Smith prayed.)

Conference was rejuvenating and inspiring, as always, and we enjoyed spending time with both our families over the weekend.

While we're on the subject of General Conference, I should mention that Abigail has a great love for the prophet and apostles. Before April Conference this year, she became very interested in them and wanted to learn all their names. So we got a picture of all of them, and I taught her their names and a little bit about them. I used a song to teach her the names. Abigail can learn just about anything, it seems, if you put it to a tune. She still frequently brings me the picture and asks me to sit with her and look at them while we sing the song. She knows all their names and faces, and she positively lit up during Conference whenever she saw one of them. She would turn to me with astonished delight and scream, "President Eyring!" (or whoever it was at the moment)

I made a little list of all the words and people she recognized during Conference. Good thing we were watching it with very patient people (mostly family members) who didn't seem to mind her frequent outbursts.

So here's Abigail naming the apostles. (She has a little trouble pronouncing Elder Christofferson's name...) She sings the song at the end.