And for fun, here’s a video of Kai when he was a week old. Kai certainly was a chunkier newborn. What a difference nearly two pounds makes.

So, after hanging out Saturday with Kai and getting some rest last night, we stopped by the hospital on our way to church for some more Dax pix:

Okay, it’s 4:00 a.m. I’m getting straight to business and going to bed. Here are the pix:

Daxton Noah Kirk, born at 12:47 AM on Saturday, October 27th, 2007, a healthy 8 lbs. even and 21 inches.

Since I didn’t want to go nuts trying to host a big birthday party that Kai would most likely forget, I opted for a small, casual birthday/playdate at our place with our closest friends. My friend Kristen, who is an awesome baker, made a yummy Thomas the Train cake for Kai (of which I’m still enjoying leftovers!). Thank you, Kristen!

We kicked off a crazy week by watching our Southern California paradisiacal weather go awry from all the fires. When we got out of church Sunday, the sky was orange, the wind hot and dry, and ash was flying everywhere.

The following Monday, I did spend a good hour and a half sweeping and hosing down our carport and patio because you shouldn’t have to wear a face-mask just to get from your front door to your car. After a long morning at an indoor play area in Camarillo, I thought for sure Kai would go down for his usual nap like a rock, giving me time to clean up the outside. So it was strange when I finally went back inside, I heard him playing with toys (or making a mess, whatever).

When I opened his door, I found my dear son…bless his little heart…holding out his very poopy diaper to me. And his room, oh his room. There was Kai poop. Everywhere. Smeared on his crib, on the bedding, some on the carpet, chunks everywhere… Even poor Moosey-Monkey was a casualty of the feces onslaught.

So, I lost it enough to evoke some alternate personality, because instead of falling into a useless, crying mess of a pregnant woman on Kai’s bedroom floor, I channeled the Martha Stewart in me, zoned out the world, and got to work cleaning up the mess. And that was that. A story I can one day laugh about once I get over the trauma.

I tend to blog so infrequently, I feel the need to announce my presence so that people don’t think I’m female and pregnant.

My cousin Mimi, who by the way is an excellent writer, wrote a very thoughtful, reflective, post on the now infamous Sister Beck General Conference talk. Thank you, Mimi, for such a down-to-earth perspective on this.

I do, however, want to clarify Jenn’s previous post, and go into greater detail as to why this was such a controversial talk for her. She doesn’t disagree with Sister Beck’s talk in any way. Personally, I wholeheartedly believe that the Mother can and does set the tone for the home, and that she should be there, nurturing her family. Jenn also feels this same way, and would much rather be home than away at a job, or even working from home during the day. I know for a fact that she loves being a stay-at-home mom, prides herself in a clean home, and loves spending time with Kai. Rather, she’s addressing the larger, more complicated issue that is wrapped up in the following question: “Should we stay in California in order to stay close to family, or should we move out-of-state in order to get some financial breathing room?” And by breathing room, I mean “ability to get out from under crippling student loans and consumer debt without filing for bankruptcy.” For thousands of young LDS families living in Southern California, this is a monumental issue, and is probably one of the most often-discussed topics by people our age who don’t own a home, and even by many who do.

First, some statistics: The average selling price of a home in Ventura County, California as of September ‘07 (latest data) is $673,227. Some housing slump, eh?

Next, let’s do some quick cost-of-living comparisons. I’ll pick Houston and Salt Lake City, since I was born in Houston, and have family in both cities. I’ve averaged data from cnnmoney.com, bankrate.com, city-data.com, and salary.com. Instead of the county as a whole, let’s use Ventura stats, since that’s where we live:

Average salary in the City of San Buenaventura: $44,400
In Houston, the equivalent income is: $24,733
In Salt Lake City, the equvalent income is: $30,693

In other words, it’s 45% cheaper to live in Houston, and 30% less expensive to swing it in SLC. Someone making $44K in Ventura could make $24K in Houston and have the exact same standard of living. Much of this difference can be found in housing costs (Ventura is 72% more expensive than Houston). However, much of it comes from other areas as well, such as groceries (35% more expensive in Ventura than Houston).

But what are the average incomes in those cities?

Well, that data is a little harder to find. But I bet you can guess that it’s at least a littler higher than $24K or $30K. In fact, census.gov tells us that in 2001 the median income in Houston was $45,762.

So with all this evidence that we’re not getting the best bang for our buck, why do we still live here? Well, staying near family is probably the number one reason. Secondly, we love where we live. We love the clean air, we love the ocean and the beach, and of course we have good friendships here too. We’re getting by, and everyone around us is getting by, so why don’t we just stay and see what happens? And thirdly, Jenn and I have major weather issues. Between Jenn’s overheating/dehydration problems and the permanent frostbite I have on my brain from serving a mission for two years at the North Pole (a.k.a. Finland), we really need to live in a temperate climate, or in other words, right here on the California Coast. We’re not spoiled, we’re just weathericallly challenged!

Okay, so we could move, but should we? If we should, shouldn’t all of our peers? The Church would die out in Southern California in a generation. In Finland, I served in a city called Kuopio and also covered a small town 45 minutes to the north called Iisalmi, where we met in a room rented from the Post Office. Over a span of two months, Kuopio’s Branch President lost his job due to downsizing and moved his family to Helsinki, and the Iisalmi branch was dissolved due to a lack of Priesthood leadership. Losing a strong leader and his wonderful family seemed like a great loss to us missionaries, and indeed it was to the members as well. Seeing the entire branch of Iisalmi go inactive once it was dissolved was even worse. I know this is a slippery slope, but it sure seems like this is what would happen in California if we all decided that our wives shouldn’t make a penny outside the home.

I’m not promoting any doctrine here, I’m simply asking the questions: What about those who literally can’t afford to have a baby right out of college, due to unmanageable student loans? Does the commandment to not delay childbearing supersede the commandment to stay out of debt? Should we limit the size or our family to whatever will fit into the small condo we may someday be able to purchase, or do we sin by wanting to remain in Southern California when we could easily afford a larger home in another state?

The above questions aren’t necessarily false dichotomies. They apply to us for example, and thousands of other young LDS families around us. I’m not talking about having two incomes in order to have new cars, go on vacations, or have a nice home. We own both of our (aging) cars outright, don’t go on vacations, and don’t even own a home. I’m talking about paying the bills, having enough money for food, and trying to pay off our student loans and consumer debt.

So that’s what it comes down to: Jenn, like many other Southern California LDS moms, works a little so that we can afford to live. Sister Beck’s talk perfectly outlined the role of the ideal mother and homemaker. What it lacked was that little line at the end that usually goes something like this: “We know that not all of you have the resources to stay at home full-time, due to various circumstances out of your control. But as long as your heart is in the right place, and you strive toward these goals, Heavenly Father will bless your family. Don’t give up.” At least, that’s how I imagine it in my head.

And in our case, circumstances aren’t really out of our control. We could up and move to Oregon, for example, in a week. But then why do I get the feeling that we shouldn’t?

In 1782, the Mission San Buenaventura was founded by Father Serra, named after Saint Bonaventure. Buenaventura is composed of two Spanish words: buena meaning “good” and ventura meaning “fortune.”

This is Kate, Kai’s new GF, who he just adores. When they’re not fighting over some toy, that is.

Photo by Daniele Rose Photography

Ryan and I made a very last-minute decision to hire a doula to help during my labor, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to have the additional support.

Even Kai was for hiring Niav (our doula). During her visit last week, he literally would not leave her side. He rolled his trucks next to her, ate his frozen peas next to her, attempted to hang out on her lap, and even kissed her goodnight on the mouth, out of his own volition.

My mom made fun of me saying, “Why do you need all this fancy stuff, like a doula?! I didn’t have that, and I didn’t have pain medication either! I didn’t even have your dad there for Franco’s birth…” and so on and so on.

But with C-section and unnecessary intervention rates in hospital births at an all-time high, I’m convinced that hiring a labor support person would be a worthy investment to protect my body and baby, and ensure I get the birth experience I want.

Hey mom, what do you think about our plans for a home-birth for future baby #3? =)

This is more of a post to myself, since after a really rough and tough week, I realize I should document the good since there are inevitably more frazzled-Jenn days to come.

The day started off great by me waking up not to the sound of Kai crying and kicking at his door, but because I was done sleeping, having had a good night’s rest with only one middle-of-the-night trip to the bathroom. Amazingly, Kai slept in until 7:05 this morning.

We had a fun-filled morning of meeting up with friends for our regular beach walk, grabbing smoothies, and playing hard at the playground downtown. Aside from a little fussing in the stroller during the walk, my son was happy. And when baby is happy, mama is happy.

Physically, I felt great. I wasn’t weighed down by any debilitating cramping (which I’ve been experiencing off-and-on the past few weeks), my typically crazy hormones were within normal range, and I had so much energy, I had fun chasing Kai around the park. For the first time in forever, I felt normal and so very un-whale like.

Kai napped for three-and-a-half hours after that, and I caught a couple hours myself. Sweetness. To top off an already great day, Ryan got off of work before 6, which is monumental in our household.

There were a ton of other little things that made the day go smoothly; Kai came to me when I called him to put on his socks and shoes (typically, he flees the scene and I have to threaten that we’ll just stay home), he didn’t fight as much during his diaper changes, we were able to leave the train-table at a local children’s bookstore in relative peace, he ate his veggies, and was well-behaved during a quick trip to the grocery store.

I know I can’t expect most days to fall into a nice, neat pattern of predictability and ease, but it’s so rewarding to catch a break every now and then. I feel like my energy is renewed along with my patience for Kai, which makes me feel like such a better mom. Sometimes I really wonder if it’s me that sets the tone of our days, is it Kai, or is it both? Regardless, good days like today make the tough ones so much more bearable!

After hearing sister Beck’s (General RS President) talk during today’s Sunday session, and reading her talk from the General Relief Society Conference, I couldn’t help but feel…unedified. Her talk today on mothers has actually offended many women, members and non-members alike (now I’m not going to reveal how I know this!), but my feelings come by way of feeling overlooked, rather than offense, anger, or resentment.

I give sister Beck credit for not mincing words and for emphasizing the importance of mothers being in the home with their children. Rather than being offended at the video clip of a mother doing housework with her son, or feeling inadequate because our FHE evenings don’t mimic the happy, reverent family in another clip, I found them to be cheesy and funny in the “yeah right” sort of way.

I did, however, find most of her talk to be outdated, as I do with most talks aimed towards us women of the church. We are constantly told what ideals we ought to strive towards; namely get our education, have children, raise them righteously, and do so by staying at home full-time. And they are exactly that; ideals. But being a mom in pricey Southern California, having been out of college a mere two years, these ideals just don’t fit, and each time I hear talks in this pattern, I can’t help but tune them out.

Realistically, so much more work and money is required to make it today, especially in California. Half the moms I know, both LDS and non-LDS work, whether it be full-time, part-time, working from home, babysitting, or whatever. With today’s economy, inflation, and expensive (though declining) housing market, supplemental income really is necessary for so many of us to survive, and this is where sister Beck’s talk fails.

Presenting “life” as she knows it in black-and-white, she says you’re either working so that you can attain material and worldly goods or you’re the best homemaker and mother by staying at home. By working outside the home, you “succumb” and “abandon” to “worldly models of parenting.” Yes, you can point out that perhaps she is talking to those that truly do seek after riches, expensive cars, and designer clothing, but what about us and other families in similar situations? I’m not asking the church to define my identity here, but just recognize that alternative ways of running a home are being practiced by many LDS families and that we need real support and encouragement instead of constantly being told the “oughts” and “shoulds.” Until then, I feel that talks like hers will continue to go in one ear and out the other.

What are your thoughts?

Not sure if any of you watch ‘Dancing With the Stars’ on ABC, but Marie Osmond is one of the contestants on the show. A couple weeks ago, they were airing a clip on her, where in one part, she was paid a surprise visit by her dancing partner and she shrieked “Oh my heck!” While it was pretty funny, I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed about the quirky words Mormons come up with, and thought, “Oh my gosh, she said that on national television!!“

I think I’m pretty good about refraining from using any ‘Mormonized’ swear words, like ‘fetch’ or ‘heck’ (though I laugh at–I mean, WITH!–my friends that do). What about you? User or abuser?

I’ve made my fair share of fancy, healthy foods for Kai, only to have him snub meal after meal after meal. Like, a warm, creamy bowl of butternut squash risotto? Rejected. What about some grilled brie and apple sandwiches? Kai would eat only the bread–the piece not touching any cheese. So basically, just fried bread. Okay, well how about some whole-wheat, zucchini pancakes with flaxseed meal? Sounds a little hippie, but it’s good…for being whole-wheat zucchini pancakes with flaxseed meal. Kai will actually eat this, but only if drenched with butter and syrup, of course.

Feeling desperate (and exhausted and/or lazy) the other night, I sat Kai down to a dinner of sliced cheddar cheese, frozen peas and corn straight out of the freezer, and some plain, NON-whole-wheat angel hair pasta, and guess what? He feasted like it was a Thanksgiving meal.

Now if only the husband were this easy to feed.

Else, where will you push all your cars/trucks/airplanes around before finally falling asleep?

(Our son’s newest thing is camping out on the comforter I pull out at night to “catch” him if he rolls out of bed. Much cozier than the middle of the floor, which is where I found him two nights ago!).

I’m only one month away from my due date and I’m hoping the last four weeks will go by just as quickly as my entire pregnancy. Because month nine is what I term the “ugly” month: swollen extremities, rapid weight gain, waddling, and a belly projecting outward two miles. A belly projecting so far out, a woman at church asked if I was overdue. Another woman instructed Ryan to not come near me with any sharp objects because (now say it with me) I. Might. Pop.

I should be grateful that I don’t yet have the burden of waking every two hours to feed and change a newborn, buuuut…not having a belly that rests on my thighs when sitting would be great. Just four more weeks, I tell myself, just four more weeks, but I’m fading fast. Good thing “pregnancy glow” comes in a mirrored compact by Cover Girl.