Hair: A Blessing and A Curse

Tonight, after our date (I know, you're all thinking, on a Tuesday? But hay, it's $2 Tuesdays at the cheap theater and we saw Sherlock Holmes, and $2 is so much cheaper than $3! So it worked out nicely!), I decided to give Lydia a well needed trim on her bangs. She'll be 8 months this Friday and has more hair than most 1 1/2 year olds. A blessing, and a curse, sometimes. Especially when we find she's been a host for a rat's cozy home.

The rat's nest in Baby's hair. In other words, the back of her head is ridic-uh-lus!

I am no hair cutting expert, but I do know I should have at least practiced on a Barbie doll!

Lydia's hair doesn't look that bad, when you slide all the bangs to the side. But when she gets playful or when she wakes up from her nap, and her hair sits forward, all the world will be able to see what a hack job I did to her bangs. Whoops. Sorry Baby. At least her peers won't make fun of her...yet. She won't know of the ridicule of a bad haircut (or hair dye..ahem.. never dye your hair black your senior year) for many years to come. I shan't post too many pictures of her on facebook. Will facebook even be around when she's older? Ha, or should the question be, will I allow her to have an account? Yes, of course. When she's 18. :)

Keep being cute, my child. Good thing sucking on the comb distracted you, at least a little, from making me almost poke your eyes with the scissors. Those hands of yours say only one thing... "MINE"

Big Hug, little kiss

Mom

Journal Entry July 2nd, 2011

I was going to wait til her first birthday to blog about this, but lately I've been having so much fun playing with Lydia, that I am glad I stumbled upon this memory in my journal. She is such a special person in my life. She always makes me smile, even when she has no reason to. I love knowing that she needs me. It makes me feel so important. I'm glad I'm her mommy!

July 2^nd, 2011  (2am)

Today I went into labor with Lydia! It all happened so fast. I’ve had cramps the past 3 days and didn’t really time them, but at 8:30am I started really feeling contractions. So I took a shower and at 9am I started timing them. They were 5 mins apart consistently. I then realized I should already be at the hospital!

I got mom and Jonathan up, and I called my midwife to tell him I was heading out.

We got to the hospital and I was 5cm dilated and 100% effaced. On Tuesday, at checkup, I was 2cm and 70% effaced. So they hooked me up to an IV and through those nasty contractions, I had to suffer ‘til I got the epidural.

Oh. My Heck!

Epidurals are Heavenly!

Why would anyone go natural?

 After that, the doc broke my water and later they put a catheter in. I was at 8cm. After the epidural finally kicked in I tried to take a nap and mom and Jonathan ate at the cafeteria. When they came up it wasn’t much longer ‘til I was 10cm  dilated and time to push.

Delivery was crazy. She was so easy. I was in no pain. I was pushing, trying to breathe, laughing, and smiling. Her head came out fast. I got to touch her head as it was coming out. I squealed and laughed ‘cause it was surreal…and slimey.

My pushes were good. The doc kept telling me to stop ‘cause she came so fast. Only 15-20 minutes. The doc was very pleased and happy to deliver her because she was so easy.

She is absolutely BEAUTIFUL!

 

She’s cute, has tons of hair, hardly cries, is so content ,and alert. She’s so darling. I love her!

She is amazing in every single way. I love love love her! She’s my world. She’s tiny and fragile, yet she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. We are so blessed!

Thank you Heavenly Father!

I would like to testify of God’s love! He has entrusted us with one of His precious spirit Children. I’ve only been a mom for almost 12 hours (+9months ), yet I feel just a tiny fraction of His love for His children.

I can’t wait to be a good influence in her life. I want to teach her so many things, but especially that she’s a child of God.

Lydia Danielle Hernandez   7/2/2011 3:26pm 6lbs 15oz 19 ½ inches

Mommy loves you… so much!

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, This isn't New

Soo.. I maybe forgot to post about our romantic Valentine's Day. Well, it actually was two days. First, on Monday we went out to a really good Chinese restaurant, Mandarin. So delicious. That's saying a lot, because here in Rexburg, it's hard to find anything that resembles Chinese food. Of course, we took baby out with us too. Just because she's a baby doesn't mean she can't enjoy her first [pre] Valentine's Day dinner.

the hubster

ignore my awkward pose!

I love this face! "Mooommm, do you really need to take another picture of me?!"

Valentine's day was started earlier in the morning when I woke up and made the hunny and I breakfast in bed. I made delicious omelets. Lydia helped too. Couldn't have done it without her tray.

Our actual Valentine's Dinner was at home. I had donated some plasma (what can I say, I'm a working mom!) earlier that day, got some treats, some mood setters: aka candles, and ingredients, and while Jonathan went to the gym for his daily workout, I prepared our romantic candle lit dinner. Lydia was also asleep, and lasted that way through the whole meal so we could actually enjoy some us time. It was nice. I made Ritz cracker chicken breasts with penne noodles and alfredo sauce with sauteed veggies. It was. Divine.

Some treats for the hunny - including cough drops and cold medicine - he needed it!

Note: That is not wine, but grape cocktail juice! My fav cause it tastes like popsicles

My little Valentine <3

He Doesn't Know He's My Hero

{So, a while back, say, almost two years ago, I was finishing up my medical assisting degree, in my last semester, taking an english class up on campus at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. This paper was supposed to be an "Insider/Outsider" essay. Me, the outsider, was trying to research something I didn't know too much about on the "inside". I think that's what we were supposed to do. My teacher liked it anyway.}

Summer of 2009 dipnetting at Chitina

            Most people know where their parents were born, or where they came from. They’re familiar with both sets of grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. They have probably been to the home their parents once grew up in as a child. I… have never met my father’s parents. In fact, the history before my mom came into his life has always been a mystery to me. My father, Paul Stefan, rarely shares his childhood memories of family and tradition, his escape from his once communist country Czechoslovakia, and coming to America, a free land.
            When speaking to my dad about anything that has to do with his country or previous home life, it is almost like talking to the Berlin wall itself. Even though he will never admit it, I perceive they are precious memories and even the pivotal moments in his life that eventually changed his future. But I also feel that being his daughter, I ought to know who my father is. Living with him for twenty years, he still feels like a stranger to me. I want to know what things he did as a child, who my relatives are, what he liked to eat in Czech, what his favorite memory of home was, and much more.
            For the longest time, the only things I knew from my dad were things my mother had told me which usually came from bits and pieces she had picked up from conversations he was willing to open up to with someone else. A lot of the information I know about my dad comes second hand. In a way, I feel like I overstep some of his boundaries if I ask him something that might bring back moments in his life that weren’t ones he wanted to remember. But I decided to take a chance anyway. He was open with questions about holidays and traditions, but provided little information about his experience leaving. I had to use what I remember my mom telling me, because I guess it is just too hard for my dad.
            I started off easy and asked him what he thought were fun things to do as a child and he replied, “The most fun thing to do was to grab something to eat. But I also liked to go berry picking, mushroom picking, and hiking in the mountains with my friends.” That, in contrast to what kids do in America is totally opposite. I often find my siblings and even myself caught up with the internet or video games, driving around with friends, or doing sports after school. It’s interesting to see the difference in entertainment and also the vast amount of opportunities one is given in such a free country with so many privileges. I also kind of envy how simple and quiet a life like that would be, content with just the little things like spending time in the outdoors.
            I later asked him what his favorite thing in the town he lived in was, and to my surprise he said, “The church bells…and Easter.” He told me how he could hear the bells toll every day for miles and miles away from a 300 foot tall church tower, which would chime every hour. He loved listening to the bells ring in Spisška Nová Ves. When I asked my dad to expand further on Easter, I could almost feel the longing for wanting to be back there celebrating Easter with his family and friends. Just the way he talked about it, his expression and the movement in his voice strongly confirmed that Easter was a cherished family tradition. Easter in Czech is far different than America. My dad explained that everyone gets up at 6 a.m. Monday morning and prepares to take the food over to the church to be blessed. Such food included, “The most delicious ham – not factory made – but boiled in a pot for hours with spices. It was the best thing in the world. You can’t buy it anywhere here.” I truly felt the conviction in his voice when he talked about missing the food his mother used to cook. Then, “Seven a.m. is the water chasing. All the boys would dress up in very nice white shirts and sometimes suits and go around and chase the girls and douse them with water. Sometimes they would sprinkle them and others would get thrown into the creeks.” Through research I have found that amongst dousing, in which water symbolizes life, the boys also prepare braided pussy willow branches, or pomlăzka, to whip at the girls’ legs. It symbolizes the bestowal of year long continual youth and beauty.
While the boys got to enjoy the festivities, the women had to stay home and paint and wash the walls, cook all the food, and decorate extravagant looking eggs for the boys to come door to door for. I can definitely see why this memory would stick out in his mind as being particularly unforgettable.
            Even though this information was appreciated, my real interest was in how my dad escaped. I’ve always felt a sense of pride when telling my friends I had a father who not only left his communist country, but escaped it. But I was too soon disappointed when I could never give much detail on the actual experience because I lacked the first hand story. Thus, in my efforts I tried my best to crack my father to help him divulge the memories he perhaps doesn’t want to relive.
            My first question was about communism. “You couldn’t just say you were ‘communist’. You had to swear your allegiance to the party. Swear for life, forever. I think my oldest brother joined up a long time ago. My father and mother didn’t and none of us kids did.” My grandfather, Jan (pronounced John) Stefan, voiced his political opinion and was unfortunately sent to jail for a period of time because of it. My grandma Anna was forced to go to work because their family didn’t have enough money for food and in Czechoslovakia every adult person had to work. My grandfather had worked at a railroad and I learned that my dad had followed his footsteps. When asked why he chose to work at the railroad he said, “You don’t choose it. You go where the money is. You go where you can find work.” I have witnessed time and time again just how hard-working and dedicated my father is, not only to his occupation but to his family. He is one of the hardest workers I know. I believe it is because he lived in a country where working is how you lived and if you didn’t work you couldn’t live.
            I also learned that because society was communist it meant that everybody that worked made the same amount of wages. The doctor or dentist was no different than the street sweeper or the garbage man. Because of this so-called “equality,” there was no personal incentive to do a good job. My father recalls going to the dentist, sitting in the chair looking up at the doctor with a cigar in his mouth, a glass of wine in one hand, missing most of his teeth. I remember hearing this and feeling shocked.
            Why would anyone want to live in a country like that, where nobody cared how good they had to be because the only driving force was money? I also wondered what good the government saw in doing that. Apparently, my dad thought so too.
            Like most men, when my dad turned 19 he had to enlist in the Czechoslovakian army. He hated it, but unlike Americans who have the choice to serve and enjoy their rights and privileges, military service was mandatory. Fortunately, my dad faked an appendix attack, had surgery, and was given the opportunity to go on temporary leave. With that opportunity he acquired a visa and he and his friend Miki decided to leave their country and never look back. They knew a soccer game was approaching soon in Austria and decided to use that as part of their plan of escape, never telling their families “good-bye”. It was crucial to not tell anybody, for if they did, and it was found out, they would undergo punishment of death and their families would suffer ultimate persecution. Knowing this, my dad took with him pictures of his family and one extra change of clothes, leaving in the middle of the night, hoping that everything would work out alright. Leaving his family and country behind was a big risk…and a great sacrifice. With every true sacrifice, you give up something valuable for the hope of getting something better.
            Every step that took him closer to America was a risk. The border patrol stop was always intriguing to me. I can never imagine the fright I would feel of having machine guns in my face, soldiers yelling at me, searching through my belongings, the fear of death looking at me straight in the eye. This truly was the life or death moment. When the bus got to the border of Austria and Czechoslovakia, soldiers boarded and began searching passengers. When they came to my dad they searched his bag noticing a fair amount of family pictures. One wrong word and he could have been in trouble. When questioned why he had so many pictures, my dad said he was attending a soccer tournament in Austria in which he planned on meeting girls and showing them pictures of his family. Luckily the soldiers believed him and passed them on. After he got into Austria he spent a year in a refugee camp working and then was given the choice to immigrate to Australia, Canada, or America. He chose America.
            I am ever so grateful that he made that choice to come to this free land, where often times I take the things I am blessed with for granted. His choices made a big impact on our family. He went AWOL from the communist military. His family suffered persecution because he left the country under the pretext that he was going to come back and didn’t. He came to America where the only words he knew were “yes” and “no.” His father died since he left the country. He had night terrors almost every night until 1992, dreaming the Czech government would find and punish him, and he has not seen his family in 30 years. But in return he lives in America where he can hunt and fish, own as much property as he wants, free to work or not work, worship, and can speak his mind. I feel that by taking that step into the dark so long ago, not knowing where he was going, his life has been blessed. He is my hero in so many ways. He is the very example of someone living the American Dream.

..One Special Lady..

The worst part about visiting Grandma's house.. Is leaving it.

Over the weekend, we went and visited a special lady. 

She has a strong testimony of Christ, His Gospel, and of blessings given when promises are kept. 

My Grandparents, Leslie and Ruth Campbell.

You maybe remember this post, about my Grandpa, when he passed away last year. They had been married for 62 years, and now my Grandma spends her time in Payson, Utah, without her true love. I can only imagine how hard that would be. We wanted her to finally meet Lydia, her 26th great grand-kid, and we wanted to keep Grandma company for the weekend. Even though I ended up getting sick on the way down and was sick the entire time, I always enjoy visiting Grandma and listening to her stories. She is such an amazing woman!

She told us of how they met, and how after seeing her for the first time, the next day Grandpa went out and bought their wedding rings, not knowing he'd have to wait two whole years to marry the love of his life! What an act of faith! She told us of how her house was bombed by the German Nazis in the war in Norway and how she and her siblings had gone to work at the age of 6 to help provide for her family, since her father died when she was 2. She told us of the encounters with the German soldiers and how they had guns to her, her mother, and her sister's faces. She told us of the many times they were blessed by the hand of the Lord because of keeping the commandments and being faithful. She told us of how they came to America and how she had always dreamed of coming to America since she was little.  

A dream come true. 

In short, my grandma is filled with amazing heroic stories. She is a strong woman, who never compromises her values even when it may have been rough. She is brave in the eyes of uncertainty. And she is strong when all you want to do is cry. She is a great example of someone who indeed loves family history. While she was sick in bed for 10 years, she wrote a book about her life, to pass on to her children and grandchildren so they could know of her story. She then compiled a book for Grandpa. She still has an amazing memory. When we go over to her house she tells, from memory, stories from her childhood that she had written in her book. I now feel ashamed that I haven't read it (it's in Alaska at my parent's house), but, I am kinda glad since her stories are a thing I look forward to hearing when I come to her house. She has many pictures throughout her house of her ancestors, on both her and Grandpa's side. It is amazing the kind of history she keeps in just one little room. This picture only captures one wall.

On Sunday evening, we went over to Mary's, my Grandma's sister, house where I got to meet Mary's daughter, her husband, and Mary's son, along with her grandchildren and their 3 boys. Mary married Grandpa's brother. There were 3 sisters who married 3 brothers. How neat! However, Grandpa's brother also died within 6 days of my Grandfather's death. So the sisters mourn together.
We also got to see my Aunt Eileen and her husband and my cousins, Phillip and Jorgena. It was a fun evening spent with rambunctious little boys. They said and did the darnedest things. The 4 year old boy came up to my finished plate, picked up an olive and while I was telling him that it fell on the floor, he was licking it, shrugged his shoulders, and popped it into his mouth. Me and Jonathan bursted out laughing. My mom's cousin, Harry, held Lydia for most of the time, feeling grateful that she was a quiet, well behaved little girl opposed to the energetic 2, 4, and 6? year old boys. I think at the time I, too, felt glad that we had a girl. I'm not sure what I would do with little boys. Although, I'm sure you learn in time how to tame them. :)
After they left we spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other in quiet conversation.

From L to R: Me and Lydia, Roseann (Mary's daughter), Grandma, Harry (Mary's son), and Mary

Monday morning we spent our last few hours listening to more of Grandma's stories as she showed us some photo albums of when I and my other cousins were younger. We then took some pictures and hugged and said our goodbyes.

Grandma and Lydia became best friends over the weekend. Grandma sure loves Lydia. She likes how she sits in her lap quietly, and keeps herself entertained. She loves her fun happy personality. While we were leaving, I would pretend to talk for Lydia and say, "Bye Grandma! I'll miss you!" when every time Grandma would reply, "I'm sure I will miss you a whole lot more than you'll miss me." I'm saddened that she spends a lot of time by herself, which is why we like visiting. I believe that even though someone may know that they'll see the ones they love after death, living on without them is still terribly hard.

Best Friends <3

I really wanted a 4 generation photo with my mom, but she's too far away! 

In April of 2011, Elder Mervyn B. Arnold spoke in General Conference on the importance of your name. In it he says, "Today I would like to extend the same challenge to each one of you that my parents, who will be forever remembered because of their good names, extended to me. Before you act, picture the Savior standing at your side and ask yourself, 'Would I think it, would I say it, or would I do it knowing He is there?' For surely He is there. 

In that glorious day when we stand before our beloved Savior to report what we have done with His name, may we be able to declare: “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.'  'I have honored Thy name.'"

I know by the legacy and good example that my Grandparents have lived and continue to live that they can go forward and declare that they have fought a good fight and have kept the faith. They have honored His name. I am only too grateful to be a part of their name and heritage and hope that I can honor their name, as well as His.

We love you, Grandma!

PS: I hope you don't mind me showcasing your home, Grandma! And thank you, Jonathan, for taking the pictures.

This is a

...Mom and Dad post... 

and by that, I mean Anna and Jonathan. This post is solely dedicated to two awesome people! And we shan't talk about Lydia today because she somehow always steals the spotlight in almost every post. Darn her cuteness!

Anyway..

Ahem, you'll have to excuse the oldness of this photo. I don't even remember the last time I took a picture of just me without Jonathan or L..you know who. ;) But I recently got a haircut, and this length is actually really close to what I have now.

 Anna Kathlene Hernandez
Lover of dogs and little babies. If Bella had married Jacob, she could have had puppy babies.. they'd be cute, and cuddly. Stupid girl.
Likes Michael Buble and Natasha Beddingfield.
Is tender hearted and wished all people could get a long and be nice to each other.
Likes old fashioned things, especially pictures and the way people treated each other. She loves really old old couples and their love stories.
Sometimes a good book is hard to find, but when she finds one she goes into a reading frenzy.
Loves her family more than anything, and believes that sacrifice and service are keys in loving the people around you.
She used to be good at journal writing, but has kind of slacked off a bit. It's hard when there's a bazillion other things to do these days, hence she blogs. When she has internet, that is.
Loves to sing and secretly loves musicals. Hairspray is actually one of her favorites. Yes, the one with John Travolta!
Born in Utah, grew up in (North Pole) Alaska, got married in Texas, and now resides in Idaho!
Studied Medical Assisting at the UAF for two years, graduated with her A.A.S but secretly loves American Sign Language and wishes if she could pursue anything else, she would pursue that.
She loves writing and getting letters so if you need a pen pal, she's your girl!
She wants to help people a little too much, but lacks most the resources to do so, so she's lucky a prayer goes a long way. 
She loves the truthfulness of her Church, and is grateful for the tenderness of a loving God. She believes in miracles and blessings and has yet to see them cease in her life.
In short, she's really lucky to be who she is today. :)



 Jonathan Hernandez
He has no middle name
He is a kind and loving person, always ready to help.
He's a jokester like no other. Most the time his wife has to tell him to be a bit more serious!
He wants to succeed and do real well in life. His main goal is to provide happiness and security for his wife and family.
He likes hot sauce on most everything. 
He tries his hardest in all things that he does and when he really puts his mind to it, he does accomplish his goals.
He has a strong testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and likes to share it with others.
His favorite dog is a husky, and he likes bears and wolves.
He served his mission in Alaska and loves that country, cough, state!
Jonathan would do anything for his family.
He likes to learn and read interesting things. You can always find him reading the news.
He is a history buff! He loves the world wars and knows a lot about the military.
He was in the ROTC in high school/some college courses, and has a passion for it!
He's a Texas Longhorns fan and a Tennessee Titans fan.
Jonathan loves a good game of Cranium and some mean 007 Golden eye!
If he could be in Alaska fishing and hunting, he'd be one happy man!
Even though sometimes he'll pretend like he's not going to do what you ask, he always pulls through and surprises you.
He loves the Temple and has a goal to go multiple times a week, even without his wife! 
Jonathan is happy to be a father and husband. He is so thankful for a loving God who gives him the opportunity to be better every day.
In short, Jonathan is really lucky to be who he is today. :)

 And there you have it! Sorry we're a bit biased, but Lydia, you have some cool parents!

The "face," new toys, and rolling!

So I'm gonna try something new. I'm gonna post from my phone. I've had a bit of blogging absence since we've moved back to Idaho, since we have no Internet and since we have no Internet we've been forced to use a lot of our data on our phone. So then that got put on hold, even though technically since we upgraded from Jonathan's old iphone unlimited data was grandfathered into our plan. Buutt, capping us doesn't make too much sense. Anyway.
So, since we've been here we've had Lydia eat more baby food. She likes the stuff but it's always the first bite that makes her make a funny face lol.
In addition, last weekend I told Jonathan I thought it would be a good idea if we would fast, so that he could get a job. Well, after Church on Sunday some friends dropped by a crib, high chair, and a horsey baby bouncer. Although it wasn't a direct answer to our prayers it has helped out sooo much. We have a testimony of fasting. Baby has a place to sleep, eat, and entertainment. We felt truly blessed by their generosity and know that the Lord answers prayers.
Also, Lydia fiinnally rolled for us last Saturday! She's been doing it secretly all along, but lately I've been trying to practice scooting/crawling with her and she ended up rolling for me and Daddy! Soo, I made her do it 3 more times, just to make sure it was for real. She's growing up so fast! :)

 

lol Her horsey bouncer toy!

 

"Hay guys.. I'm kinda nervous" lol.. she has such a funny personality

 

                  lol This is "the face" I get every time she eats any type of food, no matter what kind it is.
                                                        The first bite always looks like this lol

 

I couldn't help. I had to add this one. Burrito baby!

 

lol She is trying to roll here. She can't roll over to her tummy yet, just from tummy to back but I love how happy she looks. Makes my heart melt. She has such fun.