The Littlest Professor

April 3, 2009 by lbutler ♥ 2 Comments

First born children typically seem to be especially resilient – perhaps chosen especially for that role. They are the guinea pigs, the lab assignment, the hands on training for those who have jumped into parenthood. Firstborns often are strong willed, bright and determined – qualities which enable them to train two inexperienced and clueless adults in the proper care and feeding of children. Emily handled that role with skill and finesse!

Don and I eagerly anticipated the birth of our first child, wondering in those pre-ultrasound days if we’d have a daughter or a son. Don was sure it was a boy and referred to the growing baby as little “Sheide” after Gary Sheide, BYU’s outstanding quarterback of the 1974 season. I thought we were having a girl, but really just wanted to get that whole labor and delivery thing out of the way. Fear of the unknown was intense.

So after a Relief Society Homemaking meeting on April 2, 1975, feeling like I would never get comfortable again, I vocally listed my complaints, pains, concerns, and frustration.

That must have been just what I needed, because less than 24 hours later we were the picture of happiness – or at least relief!

The next day life looked great.

Utah Valley Hospital in the 1970’s was an absolute baby machine. Health precautions were strict – Don had to put on a gown before he was allowed to hold Emily. And the only people who could visit other than the dad, were grandparents who were allowed only one visit during my 3 day stay in the hospital.

We left the hospital on April 6, 1975 and went home to our one-bedroom basement apartment where Emily began her training sessions with us. We had a lot to learn, but she was a great teacher covering such topics as sleepless nights, projectile spitting/throwing up, and muffling a newborn’s cries so as not to disturb the upstairs neighbors!

Homecoming day — Do we look like we should be trusted with the life of this cute baby girl?

Don was a really proud first-time father

And I was in awe of our cute little bundle

Thirty-four years have passed since those days in Provo, and we’re still proud and in awe of our first born child and only daughter. Thanks for the continuing education. Current classes are a lot more fun than those prerequisites you put us through, and we look forward to many more semesters under your tutelage.

Our little Arab

March 16, 2009 by lbutler ♥ 3 Comments

When we made plans to go to Saudi Arabia in 1980, it was with the understanding that we would not be adding to our family while in that country. I figured once was enough in the foreign birth department, and since we were only going to be there for two years we could easily have another child upon our return to the States. But after five years in the sandy desert, Plan A had become a little outdated, and we decided that we didn’t want any more space between child #3 and #4.

On November 25, 1984 we got our first look at the newest member of the family, but with ultrasound technology being what it was at that time and in that country, that look wasn’t a very good one. The doctor told me that if he had to make a guess about the sex of the baby, he’d say it looked like it was a boy. But he cautioned me against buying a lot of boy things, because it was too early (26 weeks) to be very sure

Can you even tell this is a baby? His head is on the right side of the image. — Can you even tell this is a baby? His head is on the right side of the image - identified by the "H".

March 13, 1985 found me looking like this

3 days to delivery - and looking every bit the part! — 3 days to delivery - and looking every pound the part!

but March 16, 1985 found me looking like this:

Lynn and Desley Boardman — Lynn - feeling great with friend Desley Boardman

The hospital experience in Saudi Arabia was much different from that in Iran. Abdullah Fouad Hospital in Dammam was quite new, modern, and clean; but best of all the labor and delivery department was supervised by a British midwife. She was attentive and competent and spoke English! So when Peter decided to make his appearance a little sooner than the doctor had anticipated, the midwife and I joined forces, and I had a baby before the doctor could arrive – and before Don got back from lunch!

Brand new!

Baby’s Name : Ibn Rynette Butler = son of Lynnette Butler

We brought Peter home to an adoring family, and he slipped into place almost seamlessly. How could we not get along well when he slept through the night from about day six. I still think that was my reward for having #4!

Or maybe it was this Crib Cuddle he slept in. Suspended against his crib mattress in the soft “sheepskin” and lulled to sleep by the sound of a heartbeat that was provided by the red heart, he slept like a champ. (Read here about the recall of this product . . .)

Our first Family Home Evening after Peter’s birth was spent writing welcome notes to the new baby brother.

Mark spoke for the entire family with this concise summary as a school assignment:

And now that baby is going to have a baby!

Butler Family: latest edition

February 19, 2009 by lbutler ♥ 3 Comments

We’ve come to know and love this girl over the last several years. In fact, she already seems like a member of the family. . .

Pete and Brittney's wedding - August 2006

Thanks for making it official!

Iranian Born Boy

February 2, 2009 by lbutler ♥ 2 Comments

As I look back at the years of my adult life, I am kind of amazed at some of the things I have experienced. Some might call me brave and adventurous, but others will consider my choices irresponsible and stupid! And at any given time, I could agree with either of those opinions.

On February 2, 1977, I added another item to my list of adventures when I gave birth in the foreign (and I mean FOREIGN) country of Iran. Call it crazy or call me courageous, we were thrilled to welcome a new little boy – even if he was considered a dual national for about 16 years.

This was the view from my hospital room – very foreign as were some of the procedures.

About two weeks before Nathan was born, Don and I went to a pharmacy, prescription from Dr. Shams in hand, and bought all of the supplies and medication I would need for labor and delivery. We left the pharmacy with a bag filled with shots, pills, and IV materials, having spent only $9.00. What a bargain! Upon my arrival at the hospital, I handed over my bag of goodies to the attending nurse, and we were set.

Inside the hospital, my room was very typical and was cleaned regularly – like at all hours of the day and night. However, the communal bathroom designated for my use was wa-a-a-a-a-y down the hall, and the broken toilet seat and blood on the floor made me question my sanity. Why exactly did I decide not to return to Colorado to have this baby?

My doctor looks rather foreign, but was very competent. And I just look bad!

Thousands of miles from Colorado and with no telephone service available, the only way to announce our newest arrival was with a telegram.

We wanted all the family to see how cute our little boy was. So we sent lots of pictures and wished the grandmas could adore him in person.

While we were doing all the paperwork to be discharged from the hospital, Nate reached his limit and began crying almost inconsolably. As I had made it very clear from the time I was checked into the hospital that this would be a bottle-fed baby, I asked one of the nurses to bring me a bottle for him. Her response in broken English, “Oh, no missus. You feed.” I replied that I was not feeding, and hadn’t they been giving him bottles in the nursery? Again the response, “Oh, no missus. You feed.” When I insisted, one of the staff finally showed up with a bottle that was so dirty it looked like it had been rolled through the “jube” or gutter. The hole in the nipple was so large that when I tipped the bottle, the milk ran out of it in a steady stream. Horrified, I set the bottle aside and decided that listening to Nathan scream was a far better alternative. I refused to allow myself to wonder what he’d been fed in the nursery.

We were relieved to leave the hospital for the security of our own home, and felt that the Lord had truly taken care of both Nathan and Mom.

What a sweet welcoming committee awaited us.

Welcoming Nate to the family — Emily welcoming Nate to the family

Happy Birthday, Nate!

Not without our daughter

January 28, 2009 by lbutler ♥ 5 Comments

. . . so we took her with us. To Iran in 1976. I know – what were we thinking?

With these fresh-from-BYU faces

. . . . . . . .

mounted inside these official documents

we began our 10 year Middle East adventure on January 27, 1976 .

We said good bye in Pueblo.

We said good bye in Greeley.

We were off to make a home in a country that I had only been able to locate on a Bible map.

Yes, that’s a leisure suit Don is wearing. What else would match my faux fur collar? It was 1976, and we were at the height of fashion.

Don had accepted a job teaching English to Iranian Army helicopter pilots and mechanics in training in Isfahan, Iran. The salary was $1000 a month plus a 40% cost of living allowance – an incomprehensible amount of money to these married college students who had been living on about $270 a month in a basement apartment in Provo, Utah.

We landed in Tehran and spent a few days in the capital before traveling to Isfahan – the city that would be our home for the next three years. The first day in Tehran, I forced us to be up and awake in an attempt to win the battle against jet-lag. When I pulled back the drapes in our hotel room and was greeted by this sight, I wondered if lack of sleep had caused me to hallucinate. Was that really the hotel laundry drying on the roof?

Upon our arrival in Isfahan, we worked with a real estate agent and located a brand new building with apartments to rent. We rented the upstairs flat (3 bedrooms) for 28,000 rials or $400/month. The Iranians take the term “unfurnished” very literally – the only appliances included were a water heater and a swamp cooler. No heat, no stove, no refrigerator. . .

Emily and I posing in our living room window

Shortly after moving in to our house, we rented a car from some fellow Americans. At 6,000 rials or $85/month it was a real bargain and renting would give us the chance to see if we wanted to depend on taxis or have the luxury of our own transportation. A couple of months later, we purchased the car , a 1961 Volkswagen Beetle, for $1000 – no extra charge for rust or dents.

The first few months (actually about a year!) were rough for me, as I was desperately homesick and realizing that $1000/month didn’t make anybody rich, regardless of location. However, eventually I came to appreciate the adventure and life experience this move allowed. Some of the friendships we nurtured in that very foreign country have continued over the last 3+ decades, and we have some very happy memories of our years in Iran.

And if these pictures don’t make you laugh, I’ve got more to come.

things that make me happy

Category: children