This post has taken me almost two weeks. Sorry. Sure, I'm behind on my Thankful Thursday posts, but hey- I just had a baby. Better late than never, says I (on blog posts, of course; the baby was early).
What an incredible time we've been having here. I have been continually astounded at the blessings poured out on my little family in the past couple weeks (and to be honest, the entire year of 2012).
Our fourth little man arrived in as smooth a fashion as possible. Bret gave me a blessing the evening before, in which (among other sweet things) I was promised I would heal quickly and gain my strength back quickly. Boy have I ever! Day 8 post surgery marked a major turning point. I made breakfast for the big boys and then sat on the floor for a couple hours and played legos with the boys. I was able to spend much more time on my feet without feeling like my insides were burning.
I told Bret yesterday that it feels more like we're on vacation now instead of me convalescing.
I had a hard time coming home. It's rough enough to lay in a hospital and know that others are having to take over your responsibilities while you struggle to just shuffle ten feet without passing out. It's super rough to come home and have it right in your face that you can't do pretty much anything AND you're now a burden yourself on those who are taking care of what you usually do. I tried to keep perspective; I know that I get better and that it's a great opportunity for others to serve- a great time of growth for all involved. But...it's also really hard to keep perspective in such situations as these, all that combined pain, hormonal roller coaster, exhaustion, etc. doesn't make for the clearest thinking.
It's getting easier, though. And I have so many blessings to be thankful for today.
Blessings like-
Our beautiful new baby boy. The experience with him so far is very different from the last two times. He is easily consoled. He eats well and has from the beginning. He sleeps just like I expect a newborn to, and when he's awake he wants to be held but does not require continuous walking, bouncing, position changing, shushing, etc. And he smiles so sweetly and so often in his sleep. We are very smitten:)
Bret. There are no words to do him justice. Seriously, the English language is not sufficient. I feel like every time I look at him, the love I feel for him triples. And I can hug him again; no more side hugs!! He's incredible and it's been a joy to see him so happy during this tiring time.
My sweet, amazing sons. They accepted this massive change with joy and obediently (for the most part) stay quiet when they wake up before us in the mornings.
My mom. She's angelic. No really, she actually is. Put her together with my hugely fantastic father and you've got the best team ever.
My wonderful extended family and friends.
Getting to take super hot showers again. Christmas carols. Losing 20+ pounds in less than two weeks. Sitting down, standing up, and walking up and down the stairs with only an ache instead of a pain, sleeping without snoring like a 500 lb old man, sleeping for more than 20 minutes without needing to change positions, seasonal treats, family and friends bringing food, bouncy seats, scriptures, prayers, a house large enough to put the baby in his own room so the rest of us can get a bit o' sleep while he squeaks and grunts in his, the furnace keeping our house comfy and warm, the beautiful snowy landscape outside the windows, kleenex for my sick boys, sick boys coming back to health and the baby being protected so far (knock on wood), the portable heater that warms up the baby and I while I feed him in the middle of the night in the rocking chair by the window, dvd players in laptops that let my husband watch his baseball documentary while he sits up with the baby at night, the washing machine and dryer, crotchet blankets, Christmas lights and decorations in our lovely and festive home, movies with Bret, dry roads despite the snowy weather, and a zillion more things to be thankful for!
Oh, and watching my husband go out in our driveway last night and greet a friend he has not seen in something like 11 or 12 years. It was a happy sight and sound:)
Life is so sweet right now and I am love-love-loving it!
What are you thankful for today?
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Thankful Thursday
As we approach the arrival of baby #4, I am battling greater anxiety and even fear.
I feel like a child, getting so scared about this. It's embarrassing to admit, but saying it out loud helps me to work through it...so far:)
In thinking about all that's gone much better than expected this pregnancy and final month (there's lots!), I thought I'd state for this Thankful Thursday how happy I am with our health this holiday season.
We have been uber healthy this November and December, especially considering past years. And I am over the moon about that.
I suspect it has something to do with not being in the Nursery for church this year. And something to do with slathering the boys feet with essential oils at night. And mostly to do with God taking it easy on me:)
I am so glad we haven't been laid up or quarantined this year. I am hopeful that it holds out for the foreseeable future with a tiny baby at home.
And now I just am left to wonder why sitting on this hard kitchen stool while typing this post is making my tongue go numb...pregnancy weirdness...I tell you what!
What are you thankful for today?
I feel like a child, getting so scared about this. It's embarrassing to admit, but saying it out loud helps me to work through it...so far:)
In thinking about all that's gone much better than expected this pregnancy and final month (there's lots!), I thought I'd state for this Thankful Thursday how happy I am with our health this holiday season.
We have been uber healthy this November and December, especially considering past years. And I am over the moon about that.
I suspect it has something to do with not being in the Nursery for church this year. And something to do with slathering the boys feet with essential oils at night. And mostly to do with God taking it easy on me:)
I am so glad we haven't been laid up or quarantined this year. I am hopeful that it holds out for the foreseeable future with a tiny baby at home.
And now I just am left to wonder why sitting on this hard kitchen stool while typing this post is making my tongue go numb...pregnancy weirdness...I tell you what!
What are you thankful for today?
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Lazy
Yes, I was fully aware that I had time to blog on Thursday- and didn't.
Yes, I was fully aware that I had time to make-up blog yesterday- and didn't.
Here I am today, fully aware that I have time to blog- and I just want to be lazy.
So two days late, lazy, and flying by the seat of my pants, here's this week's Thankful *saturday* Thursday:
I am thankful for a husband who hugs me when I lose it, doesn't think I'm crazy, wrestles with the boys, supports me, gives me breaks, works hard, smiles, and still finds me attractive in my current state. And I am very much looking forward to receiving a priesthood blessing through him before heading in for surgery.
I am thankful for my firstborn who is so much like his parents (yay! and poor kid;)), is so obedient, jumps up when I ask for his help, is so watchful and full of concern and love for his siblings, trusts me, tries so hard to be best at everything he puts his hands and mind to, and makes me almost cry whenever I think about how lucky I am that he's growing up so sweetly and I get to be part of that process.
I am thankful for my middle-by-30-seconds son who kisses my tummy and is excited by the baby's kicks, who tries to think of ways to outwit his brothers, who (along with his twin) fills my days with conversation (often too much;)), is usually the first to wake up every morning, and takes notice of details.
I am thankful for my youngest who could give Curious George a run for his money, is wildly enthusiastic, tells me he loves me "every single time" all the time, is so observant of the little things in the world around him, makes everything into a race or contest, and thinks everything exciting is "da best _____ EVER!"
I am thankful for my soon-to-be youngest who is constantly on the move, doesn't give me heartburn, has taught me to have stronger hope and faith, and whose face profile looks ridiculously cute in the ultrasound picture on our fridge.
I am thankful for extended family, for friends, for the women I work with at church, for Jeffrey's teacher, for kind neighbors, and for my gloriously wonderful life that makes the rough times seem fleeting.
What are you thankful for today???
Yes, I was fully aware that I had time to make-up blog yesterday- and didn't.
Here I am today, fully aware that I have time to blog- and I just want to be lazy.
So two days late, lazy, and flying by the seat of my pants, here's this week's Thankful *saturday* Thursday:
I am thankful for a husband who hugs me when I lose it, doesn't think I'm crazy, wrestles with the boys, supports me, gives me breaks, works hard, smiles, and still finds me attractive in my current state. And I am very much looking forward to receiving a priesthood blessing through him before heading in for surgery.
I am thankful for my firstborn who is so much like his parents (yay! and poor kid;)), is so obedient, jumps up when I ask for his help, is so watchful and full of concern and love for his siblings, trusts me, tries so hard to be best at everything he puts his hands and mind to, and makes me almost cry whenever I think about how lucky I am that he's growing up so sweetly and I get to be part of that process.
I am thankful for my middle-by-30-seconds son who kisses my tummy and is excited by the baby's kicks, who tries to think of ways to outwit his brothers, who (along with his twin) fills my days with conversation (often too much;)), is usually the first to wake up every morning, and takes notice of details.
I am thankful for my youngest who could give Curious George a run for his money, is wildly enthusiastic, tells me he loves me "every single time" all the time, is so observant of the little things in the world around him, makes everything into a race or contest, and thinks everything exciting is "da best _____ EVER!"
I am thankful for my soon-to-be youngest who is constantly on the move, doesn't give me heartburn, has taught me to have stronger hope and faith, and whose face profile looks ridiculously cute in the ultrasound picture on our fridge.
I am thankful for extended family, for friends, for the women I work with at church, for Jeffrey's teacher, for kind neighbors, and for my gloriously wonderful life that makes the rough times seem fleeting.
What are you thankful for today???
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Thankful Thursday
It's been quite a crazy three quarters of a week.
Wednesday was the nuttiest. Too much time spent in the van and in waiting rooms or scrambling to finish tasks before deadlines (yes, stay at home moms have deadlines, too).
In the packed time of Wednesday were many blessings. They inspire my Thankful Thursday list today. I am thankful for...
...a great school for Jonz to go to and his teacher's genuine smile.
...finding time to squeeze in a much needed haircut before the baby comes.
...my family staying safe as we spent far too much time in the van going here and there via the interstate.
...patient twins who are so good in the car.
...a good dentist and his great staff.
...modern dental technology that makes the scariness and pain of fixing teeth much easier.
...my awesome, brave, and obedient eldest son.
...that someone cancelled their appointments (for the next two hours) while I stood at the counter trying unsuccessfully to get appointments for Al and Goose, making it possible to not only get their teeth cleaned and checked before the baby comes, but without having to make another trip!
...The Muppets 12 Days of Christmas
...that the elevators being fixed at the women's center were not both out of order so I could get to my appointment at the top floor on time AND not out of breath.
...that my sister in law works in the same building and I could go to the appointment sans children.
...that I could negotiate my way from four remaining OB appts to TWO:)
...that I was told yesterday that since I have a scheduled c-section and am not a high-risk pregnancy this time (and since I have a cervix of steel that doesn't dialate) my remaining appointments are just blood pressure, measurement, and heartbeat checks. This not only means that I don't have to have my cervix checked anymore, but that I don't have to find someone to watch Al and Goose during my appts (soooooo much easier!).
...email, wireless internet, and a scanner.
...that people answered their phones (a rarity) allowing me to finish my RS responsibilities semi-quickly
...a fun evening with Bret's family
...Christmas movie time with my husband
...getting to spend so much time in these early years with the sweetest boys in the world (and their beautiful, innocent, shining eyes that I could stare at all day).
What are you thankful for today?
Wednesday was the nuttiest. Too much time spent in the van and in waiting rooms or scrambling to finish tasks before deadlines (yes, stay at home moms have deadlines, too).
In the packed time of Wednesday were many blessings. They inspire my Thankful Thursday list today. I am thankful for...
...a great school for Jonz to go to and his teacher's genuine smile.
...finding time to squeeze in a much needed haircut before the baby comes.
...my family staying safe as we spent far too much time in the van going here and there via the interstate.
...patient twins who are so good in the car.
...a good dentist and his great staff.
...modern dental technology that makes the scariness and pain of fixing teeth much easier.
...my awesome, brave, and obedient eldest son.
...that someone cancelled their appointments (for the next two hours) while I stood at the counter trying unsuccessfully to get appointments for Al and Goose, making it possible to not only get their teeth cleaned and checked before the baby comes, but without having to make another trip!
...The Muppets 12 Days of Christmas
...that the elevators being fixed at the women's center were not both out of order so I could get to my appointment at the top floor on time AND not out of breath.
...that my sister in law works in the same building and I could go to the appointment sans children.
...that I could negotiate my way from four remaining OB appts to TWO:)
...that I was told yesterday that since I have a scheduled c-section and am not a high-risk pregnancy this time (and since I have a cervix of steel that doesn't dialate) my remaining appointments are just blood pressure, measurement, and heartbeat checks. This not only means that I don't have to have my cervix checked anymore, but that I don't have to find someone to watch Al and Goose during my appts (soooooo much easier!).
...email, wireless internet, and a scanner.
...that people answered their phones (a rarity) allowing me to finish my RS responsibilities semi-quickly
...a fun evening with Bret's family
...Christmas movie time with my husband
...getting to spend so much time in these early years with the sweetest boys in the world (and their beautiful, innocent, shining eyes that I could stare at all day).
What are you thankful for today?
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Thank you
Yes, I missed Thankful Thursday on Thanksgiving.
But spending time with loved ones all weekend is much higher on the priority list than getting to my computer and writing a post.
And hey, I'm still full of gratitude. And since I'm the main benefactor from this weekly endeavor of mine, I say my absence is totally justifiable.
Take that!
Anyway, I was just reading my posts from last December and had a moment that I thought I oughta share.
I seem to have forgotten that last holiday season was spent mightily sick. Like, sicker-and-weaker-than-I've-been-in-years sick. Most of the past Novs/Decs I've gotten something bad, but usually it's just my boys that get knocked out by viruses. Last year, though, I got hit harder than I have in a while. Stomach bug on Thanksgiving and the flu or a flu-like bug (which led to ear and sinus infections, of course) for weeks in December.
There was lots of "wo-is-us" in those posts, but also lots of recognition of tender mercies, too.
It was as I was reading one of the posts the thought came to me, "you're protected because of that."
In that moment, I thought of how little I understand of Heavenly Father's path for me. I now readily believe it highly likely that I spent last holiday season so sick, along with my kiddos, so that this year (when we're getting ready to welcome a baby) we'd be stronger. Though I didn't know it yet, Heavenly Father knew that this year I would be physically taxed creating a body for someone. Getting sick is extra dangerous when pregnant. Perhaps he was protecting me and the baby this year by training my body last year to fight off more viruses...Perhaps I'm off my rocker. But I don't think so:)
And I realized that I have not been as thankful during times of sickness as I should be.
Sicknesses can teach us many things; like patience, trust, humility, service, charity, faith, and gratitude.
But I realized...or more deeply understand tonight that each time we heal from an illness, our immune systems are stronger and that sometimes God uses that as a protection for us.
How many times has a previous sickness saved me major trouble/pain/heartache/etc. and I didn't even know it???
So thank you, Heavenly Father. Thank you for protecting me and my loved ones. And thank you for not getting upset with me when I whine and don't recognize what a great blessing you are giving me.
And now I just have to hope that he taught me that lesson tonight so I can more fully appreciate the next few weeks of health (knock on wood) and not so that I'm ready to get hit with another bout...
Hope you had a delightful Thanksgiving weekend!
But spending time with loved ones all weekend is much higher on the priority list than getting to my computer and writing a post.
And hey, I'm still full of gratitude. And since I'm the main benefactor from this weekly endeavor of mine, I say my absence is totally justifiable.
Take that!
Anyway, I was just reading my posts from last December and had a moment that I thought I oughta share.
I seem to have forgotten that last holiday season was spent mightily sick. Like, sicker-and-weaker-than-I've-been-in-years sick. Most of the past Novs/Decs I've gotten something bad, but usually it's just my boys that get knocked out by viruses. Last year, though, I got hit harder than I have in a while. Stomach bug on Thanksgiving and the flu or a flu-like bug (which led to ear and sinus infections, of course) for weeks in December.
There was lots of "wo-is-us" in those posts, but also lots of recognition of tender mercies, too.
It was as I was reading one of the posts the thought came to me, "you're protected because of that."
In that moment, I thought of how little I understand of Heavenly Father's path for me. I now readily believe it highly likely that I spent last holiday season so sick, along with my kiddos, so that this year (when we're getting ready to welcome a baby) we'd be stronger. Though I didn't know it yet, Heavenly Father knew that this year I would be physically taxed creating a body for someone. Getting sick is extra dangerous when pregnant. Perhaps he was protecting me and the baby this year by training my body last year to fight off more viruses...Perhaps I'm off my rocker. But I don't think so:)
And I realized that I have not been as thankful during times of sickness as I should be.
Sicknesses can teach us many things; like patience, trust, humility, service, charity, faith, and gratitude.
But I realized...or more deeply understand tonight that each time we heal from an illness, our immune systems are stronger and that sometimes God uses that as a protection for us.
How many times has a previous sickness saved me major trouble/pain/heartache/etc. and I didn't even know it???
So thank you, Heavenly Father. Thank you for protecting me and my loved ones. And thank you for not getting upset with me when I whine and don't recognize what a great blessing you are giving me.
And now I just have to hope that he taught me that lesson tonight so I can more fully appreciate the next few weeks of health (knock on wood) and not so that I'm ready to get hit with another bout...
Hope you had a delightful Thanksgiving weekend!
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
For fun
Alternately titled: An overabundance of parentheses.
This picture is over a month old (yes, I'll take another belly shot...maybe in a couple weeks:)), but I thought I'd put it up for fun today.
What a difference eight weeks makes, eh?!
In non-cow news, I went out last night to run some errands (got a super cute little newborn outfit for Christmas! Baby things are so sweet.) and got the regular bunch of comments and questions from passers-by and check out clerks.
Comments ranging from "wow, a month? but you look ready to pop" (yes...thanks for that observation; I am keenly aware of how long a month sounds, too) to "oh I can tell you're carrying a girl" (even though I carried my boys the same way and you've never seen me before...) to "Fourth?!..........." (I dare you to say something about my age or overpopulation. Please, it would make this conversation so much more interesting!).
What can I say? I'm a snarky person. (You knew that about me, didn't you?)
My favorite, though (I'm getting to the non-cow part), was from a woman who was walking toward me, did a double take after she passed me and said, "Oh, you're pregnant?!? I didn't even know until I looked at your belly. You're just so skinny everywhere and that belly just pops straight out!"
Praises to you, dear woman.
And because I'm feeling far too snarky right now, I'd better stop writing before I get myself in trouble.
Friday, November 16, 2012
That day I pretended Friday was Thursday
Yesterday was long and busy and once I was finally home with all my boys around me I completely forgot that it was Thursday and I had a post to write.
Gotta say, I like evenings like that.
But. Because I started this tradition for myself, because the major holiday devoted to gratitude is just next week, and because I desperately need constant reminders of all I have to be grateful for- here's my Thankful Thursday post for this week. I feel like I've gone deep with the last many, so this one is in simple and happy list form:)
A few things I am thankful for today:
-piles of leaves gathered in gutters underneath trees on misty mornings.
-trusting sons who still love me even though I take them to the doctor for shots
-the smell of snow
-nutella on graham crackers
-to finally be seeing progress on our rearranging projects in the house (it's been frustrating that the more I try to organize the more disorganized everything feels. But everything's finally sliding into place, bit by bit:))
-the sight of the crib, now ready for our baby (this one is still a little surreal and unnerving, too;))
-a fixed dryer; I LOVE line drying our laundry, but this makes this so much easier (and I now I can do both!)
-Bret: my goofy, long-suffering husband with a smile that still gives me butterflies in my stomach.
-my firstborn, who reminds me so much of myself when he gets angry that something isn't going perfectly on the first try.
-the furnace
-loooooooooong showers
And what are you thankful for today?????????
Gotta say, I like evenings like that.
But. Because I started this tradition for myself, because the major holiday devoted to gratitude is just next week, and because I desperately need constant reminders of all I have to be grateful for- here's my Thankful Thursday post for this week. I feel like I've gone deep with the last many, so this one is in simple and happy list form:)
A few things I am thankful for today:
-piles of leaves gathered in gutters underneath trees on misty mornings.
-trusting sons who still love me even though I take them to the doctor for shots
-the smell of snow
-nutella on graham crackers
-to finally be seeing progress on our rearranging projects in the house (it's been frustrating that the more I try to organize the more disorganized everything feels. But everything's finally sliding into place, bit by bit:))
-the sight of the crib, now ready for our baby (this one is still a little surreal and unnerving, too;))
-a fixed dryer; I LOVE line drying our laundry, but this makes this so much easier (and I now I can do both!)
-Bret: my goofy, long-suffering husband with a smile that still gives me butterflies in my stomach.
-my firstborn, who reminds me so much of myself when he gets angry that something isn't going perfectly on the first try.
-the furnace
-loooooooooong showers
And what are you thankful for today?????????
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
I am not a cow.
FYI, while describing a true and aggravating struggle of mine- this post is meant to be funny. So laugh:)
I'm large.
But I don't feel anywhere near in charge.
I have gained a grand total of 37 pounds thus far in the pregnancy. Still shy of the 40 I gained the first time and the 56 I gained the second time. But we've got the quickest weight gain weeks left to go and I feel huge.
It's a stupid struggle with vanity. I know that.
I'm pregnant, not fat. I know that, too. This will end. My body will return to a healthy weight. And numbers don't even matter in this case of creating an entire human body.
But that hasn't stopped the thoughts from coming into my head with more frequency in the past week-ish.
When I lean back on the couch and feel my legs start to fall asleep from constricted blood flow after a mere five minutes. "Girl. You huge."
When I walk past the large mirror in the bathroom. "Gah!"
When I have to wake up fully and heave myself, grabbing onto the bed frame for an anchor, just to turn over to my other side. When I limp and waddle my way to the mailbox. When the 10th person in 30 minutes at church asks me how many days I have left in this pregnancy. Whenever I see my hands. Or my face. Or my thighs. Really any part of me between my eyes and my knees (excepting my elbows!). When I get dressed only to realize that I've outgrown another maternity shirt.
"Cow."
"I AM NOT A COW!" I tell myself this countless times a day. I have done a much better job this time around of treating my body well- eating well, drinking plenty, keeping my feet up when possible, and though I have great room to improve in the exercising department- it's not hard to stay active in my life. And honestly, I can see positive differences because of that. My blood pressure has been "really great" says the nurse, whereas it's been high at the end of my previous pregnancies. I don't have constant cankles yet (crossing my fingers they stay away altogether). I do have "pregnancy face," but it's much less pronounced this time. Sicknesses have been short-lived (knock on wood).
Despite the fact that I'm older (and I can feel it!), despite the fact that this is my third pregnancy and I'm bound to gain more, despite the fact that I feel healthier (body AND mind) than I have in years- I am excessively tempted to feel like a cow.
Most of the time I can pep talk myself away from that particular cliff. But...lemme tell you tonight's tale...
The light in our garage has a motion sensor. Every night I open the garage door, stick my head out, and check to make sure the outside door is shut and all lights are off in the cars before I lock the inside door. The motion sensor is just to the left, on the same wall as the door. It's a pet peeve of mine that I don't make that light turn on, especially when I just want to quick grab something out of the van. As long as I stick close to the wall, it can't tell I'm in there and stays off.
But tonight. Tonight I heifered, I mean hefted! myself off the couch and pep talked my way to the garage about pregnancy, good health, and all that jazz. I opened the door and stuck half my head out to see the outside door...and the light click on.
"Hang your head in shame, fathead."
I used to be able to get my entire body in and out of the garage without tripping that light.
Now half my head is all it takes.
*siiiiiiiigh* BUT. I. AM. NOT. A. COW.
Nope. Surrrrre aren't...
However, I will not deny that I am far too vain for my own emotional sanity...
I'm large.
But I don't feel anywhere near in charge.
I have gained a grand total of 37 pounds thus far in the pregnancy. Still shy of the 40 I gained the first time and the 56 I gained the second time. But we've got the quickest weight gain weeks left to go and I feel huge.
It's a stupid struggle with vanity. I know that.
I'm pregnant, not fat. I know that, too. This will end. My body will return to a healthy weight. And numbers don't even matter in this case of creating an entire human body.
But that hasn't stopped the thoughts from coming into my head with more frequency in the past week-ish.
When I lean back on the couch and feel my legs start to fall asleep from constricted blood flow after a mere five minutes. "Girl. You huge."
When I walk past the large mirror in the bathroom. "Gah!"
When I have to wake up fully and heave myself, grabbing onto the bed frame for an anchor, just to turn over to my other side. When I limp and waddle my way to the mailbox. When the 10th person in 30 minutes at church asks me how many days I have left in this pregnancy. Whenever I see my hands. Or my face. Or my thighs. Really any part of me between my eyes and my knees (excepting my elbows!). When I get dressed only to realize that I've outgrown another maternity shirt.
"Cow."
"I AM NOT A COW!" I tell myself this countless times a day. I have done a much better job this time around of treating my body well- eating well, drinking plenty, keeping my feet up when possible, and though I have great room to improve in the exercising department- it's not hard to stay active in my life. And honestly, I can see positive differences because of that. My blood pressure has been "really great" says the nurse, whereas it's been high at the end of my previous pregnancies. I don't have constant cankles yet (crossing my fingers they stay away altogether). I do have "pregnancy face," but it's much less pronounced this time. Sicknesses have been short-lived (knock on wood).
Despite the fact that I'm older (and I can feel it!), despite the fact that this is my third pregnancy and I'm bound to gain more, despite the fact that I feel healthier (body AND mind) than I have in years- I am excessively tempted to feel like a cow.
Most of the time I can pep talk myself away from that particular cliff. But...lemme tell you tonight's tale...
The light in our garage has a motion sensor. Every night I open the garage door, stick my head out, and check to make sure the outside door is shut and all lights are off in the cars before I lock the inside door. The motion sensor is just to the left, on the same wall as the door. It's a pet peeve of mine that I don't make that light turn on, especially when I just want to quick grab something out of the van. As long as I stick close to the wall, it can't tell I'm in there and stays off.
But tonight. Tonight I heifered, I mean hefted! myself off the couch and pep talked my way to the garage about pregnancy, good health, and all that jazz. I opened the door and stuck half my head out to see the outside door...and the light click on.
"Hang your head in shame, fathead."
I used to be able to get my entire body in and out of the garage without tripping that light.
Now half my head is all it takes.
*siiiiiiiigh* BUT. I. AM. NOT. A. COW.
Nope. Surrrrre aren't...
However, I will not deny that I am far too vain for my own emotional sanity...
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Discouraged
I'm feeling discouraged.
I've been on my feet for longer than I ought much too often this week, been paying for it for a couple days now...and still staying on my feet too much. Braxton Hicks and seizing hips are the norm. And that's discouraging.
The morning sickness ache is coming back in waves. That's discouraging.
Mopping hurts (in what world does the easy task of mopping hurt?!?!). Walking up the stairs leaves me winded and blood pounding in my head. That's discouraging.
I'm slow. I limp everywhere. I can't do much of anything with efficiency anymore. There are so many tasks I want to accomplish at home and at the end of the day, despite all the effort and time on my feet, they mock me in their unfinished state. That's discouraging.
In its relaxed state, my face takes on an I-don't-care-about-anyone-but-myself expression. I catch myself looking like I hate life when I notice people looking at me and I hate giving off that impression. I don't hate life and truly, I'm fine. But I can't seem to remember to smile just because anymore. That's discouraging.
And finally, the elections this week have made it clear that America will never again be what it was nor what it was intended to be. And that's very discouraging.
It occurred to me late Tuesday evening that the growing majority of American people remind me eerily of the members of the LDS church who want to change the Church and/or doctrine to better suit their wants.
I just don't understand why there are people who want to be part of an organization that is founded on things they vehemently disagree with.
If one thinks practicing homosexuality is fine or wants women ordained to the priesthood, why is one claiming membership to a church which so clearly states the opposite?
I don't get it.
But this is what I see is happening in my church. And this is what I see is happening in my country.
The United States of America is populated by a majority that wants to change it.
I don't get it!
If one thinks that the federal government should control the states and give people everything they need just because they exist, why is one in the USA? There are so many places in the world where the government does just that. Why don't they go live the way they want to and leave my country be? Why must they insist on forcing that change here? Where am I left to live the way I want to once they succeed in changing America into just another bankrupt government.
Yep. I'm discouraged.
But there is something that I take heart in since that realization on Tuesday. Though it is likely that the majority will get the change they want here in America- try as they may, the like-minded members of my church will not.
I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. A church solidly founded on the gospel of Jesus Christ. A gospel that has never and will never change.
No matter the amount of signed petitions delivered to Church Headquarters. No matter the dissenting speeches made from pulpits, in classes, on blogs, or among neighbors. No matter the immature mocking (or if it comes to it, persecution). No matter the amount of people who decide to leave the membership and devote their lives to anti-Mormonism.
You can't change the gospel of Jesus Christ. And you can't change His church.
I am so grateful for that immovable foundation in my life. I am so thankful that I can trust in that.
And I'm grateful that even though I keep running into brick walls as far as my physical capabilities go versus my responsibilities and desires, life is currently simple enough that I can still catch some time with my feet up a few times a day.
I love my helpful sons (even though 90% of the time their help is accompanied by whines:)). I love my supportive husband. I love my body for not completely giving out on me. I'm thankful for a van to get my family places too far to walk. I'm grateful for a lovely home that's serving us so well. I'm grateful for my dishwasher. I'm thankful for uneventful nights. I'm thankful for the opportunity and priviledge to vote. And I'm thankful for my membership in the Church.
What's a little discouragement now and then? It's a good life.
What are you thankful for?
I've been on my feet for longer than I ought much too often this week, been paying for it for a couple days now...and still staying on my feet too much. Braxton Hicks and seizing hips are the norm. And that's discouraging.
The morning sickness ache is coming back in waves. That's discouraging.
Mopping hurts (in what world does the easy task of mopping hurt?!?!). Walking up the stairs leaves me winded and blood pounding in my head. That's discouraging.
I'm slow. I limp everywhere. I can't do much of anything with efficiency anymore. There are so many tasks I want to accomplish at home and at the end of the day, despite all the effort and time on my feet, they mock me in their unfinished state. That's discouraging.
In its relaxed state, my face takes on an I-don't-care-about-anyone-but-myself expression. I catch myself looking like I hate life when I notice people looking at me and I hate giving off that impression. I don't hate life and truly, I'm fine. But I can't seem to remember to smile just because anymore. That's discouraging.
And finally, the elections this week have made it clear that America will never again be what it was nor what it was intended to be. And that's very discouraging.
It occurred to me late Tuesday evening that the growing majority of American people remind me eerily of the members of the LDS church who want to change the Church and/or doctrine to better suit their wants.
I just don't understand why there are people who want to be part of an organization that is founded on things they vehemently disagree with.
If one thinks practicing homosexuality is fine or wants women ordained to the priesthood, why is one claiming membership to a church which so clearly states the opposite?
I don't get it.
But this is what I see is happening in my church. And this is what I see is happening in my country.
The United States of America is populated by a majority that wants to change it.
I don't get it!
If one thinks that the federal government should control the states and give people everything they need just because they exist, why is one in the USA? There are so many places in the world where the government does just that. Why don't they go live the way they want to and leave my country be? Why must they insist on forcing that change here? Where am I left to live the way I want to once they succeed in changing America into just another bankrupt government.
Yep. I'm discouraged.
But there is something that I take heart in since that realization on Tuesday. Though it is likely that the majority will get the change they want here in America- try as they may, the like-minded members of my church will not.
I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. A church solidly founded on the gospel of Jesus Christ. A gospel that has never and will never change.
No matter the amount of signed petitions delivered to Church Headquarters. No matter the dissenting speeches made from pulpits, in classes, on blogs, or among neighbors. No matter the immature mocking (or if it comes to it, persecution). No matter the amount of people who decide to leave the membership and devote their lives to anti-Mormonism.
You can't change the gospel of Jesus Christ. And you can't change His church.
I am so grateful for that immovable foundation in my life. I am so thankful that I can trust in that.
And I'm grateful that even though I keep running into brick walls as far as my physical capabilities go versus my responsibilities and desires, life is currently simple enough that I can still catch some time with my feet up a few times a day.
I love my helpful sons (even though 90% of the time their help is accompanied by whines:)). I love my supportive husband. I love my body for not completely giving out on me. I'm thankful for a van to get my family places too far to walk. I'm grateful for a lovely home that's serving us so well. I'm grateful for my dishwasher. I'm thankful for uneventful nights. I'm thankful for the opportunity and priviledge to vote. And I'm thankful for my membership in the Church.
What's a little discouragement now and then? It's a good life.
What are you thankful for?
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Thankful Thursday
It's November!!
I am thankful for all the things I have to look forward to this month.
Birthdays, holidays, wedding anniversary, breaks from school, fun seasonal activities with the boys, a month of gratitude, increased frequency of appointments to check up on the baby (which isn't fun, but it does make the pregnancy seem to go by a bit faster), colder weather, reorganization projects as we try to get ready for the baby to be here...
It's going to be quite a month.
And next month? I'm having a baby:) Enter the surreal stage...
What are you thankful for today?
I am thankful for all the things I have to look forward to this month.
Birthdays, holidays, wedding anniversary, breaks from school, fun seasonal activities with the boys, a month of gratitude, increased frequency of appointments to check up on the baby (which isn't fun, but it does make the pregnancy seem to go by a bit faster), colder weather, reorganization projects as we try to get ready for the baby to be here...
It's going to be quite a month.
And next month? I'm having a baby:) Enter the surreal stage...
What are you thankful for today?
Quit it with the zombies
Here's something I've been thinking about for a while and am finally "verbalizing."
I find the growing craze and acceptance of all things zombie to be extremely annoying and disturbing.
I just don't get it. I understand the entertainment value in being scared, to a degree. But beyond the fun in getting someone's heart to skip a beat or two...I just don't get it.
Why are more and more people okay with the gore, blood, and living dead junk? Why do so many people find it funny?
It's not funny. At all. When did it become funny to disrespect life so much?
Because seriously, that's what it looks like to me- complete disrespect and disregard for the amazingness that is life.
It's just one more thing that is desensitizing people to cruelty. Which, agree with me or not, leads to more nut-jobs committing more and more bloody, gory, cruel crimes against people.
Whatever, Lindsey. No one is the same and I should allow people to believe what they want to and enjoy their own entertainment.
Live and let live, right?
That would be fine by me. As an adult, I have a firm grasp of reality and the ability to avoid things I don't like in most situations. But my boys? Not so much. They're little, curious sponges soaking up all they can as they grow and try to understand the world around them.
If we're going to live and let live, then I say get rid of those disturbing billboards advertising the haunted houses with larger than life pictures of bodies falling apart. The ones my boys can't stop staring at and asking questions about as we drive past because it's one of those "does not compute" things they're trying to understand. The ones that put disgusting images into their minds that love to come out in terrifying nightmares in the middle of the night when we'd like to be sleeping peacefully.
If we're going to live and let live, then quit displaying the disgusting Halloween masks right next to the children's costumes in the stores.
Quit putting the gory horror movies right next to the Charlie Brown Halloween specials DVDs.
Quit dressing up the baby as the bloody spawn of your gory character for Halloween.
Quit putting on public zombie shows.
In other words, quit putting so many disturbing images in public that I can't get my kids away from and causing them to have more things to fear in their innocent world of naturally accepting everything as absolute truth.
In other words- I'm glad Halloween is over and more pleasant holidays are coming up.
I find the growing craze and acceptance of all things zombie to be extremely annoying and disturbing.
I just don't get it. I understand the entertainment value in being scared, to a degree. But beyond the fun in getting someone's heart to skip a beat or two...I just don't get it.
Why are more and more people okay with the gore, blood, and living dead junk? Why do so many people find it funny?
It's not funny. At all. When did it become funny to disrespect life so much?
Because seriously, that's what it looks like to me- complete disrespect and disregard for the amazingness that is life.
It's just one more thing that is desensitizing people to cruelty. Which, agree with me or not, leads to more nut-jobs committing more and more bloody, gory, cruel crimes against people.
Whatever, Lindsey. No one is the same and I should allow people to believe what they want to and enjoy their own entertainment.
Live and let live, right?
That would be fine by me. As an adult, I have a firm grasp of reality and the ability to avoid things I don't like in most situations. But my boys? Not so much. They're little, curious sponges soaking up all they can as they grow and try to understand the world around them.
If we're going to live and let live, then I say get rid of those disturbing billboards advertising the haunted houses with larger than life pictures of bodies falling apart. The ones my boys can't stop staring at and asking questions about as we drive past because it's one of those "does not compute" things they're trying to understand. The ones that put disgusting images into their minds that love to come out in terrifying nightmares in the middle of the night when we'd like to be sleeping peacefully.
If we're going to live and let live, then quit displaying the disgusting Halloween masks right next to the children's costumes in the stores.
Quit putting the gory horror movies right next to the Charlie Brown Halloween specials DVDs.
Quit dressing up the baby as the bloody spawn of your gory character for Halloween.
Quit putting on public zombie shows.
In other words, quit putting so many disturbing images in public that I can't get my kids away from and causing them to have more things to fear in their innocent world of naturally accepting everything as absolute truth.
In other words- I'm glad Halloween is over and more pleasant holidays are coming up.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Ah, Thursday afternoon
I'm looking forward to getting my oldest home from school soon.
Once we finish that task, I have no pressing responsibilities for the rest of the day.
None, zip, nada.
We're home for a quick half hour before we turn around and head out again to bring our Jonzter back to us. And then it's a quiet evening in for us.
My body is telling me to stay inside and take it easy. The weather is telling us to stay inside and take it easy.
I'm going to listen.
Homework, reading, music, movies, simple dinner, and early bedtime (for me at least:)).
I love afternoons like this. I love evenings like this.
I love this time of year. I love that my children are still young and forced to be home with me. While I think having teenagers will be awesome, I know they'll be out and about more often than home. I really like having my family all together at home.
My favorite people in my favorite place on a lovely and quiet evening during my favorite season.
Life is lovely.
What are you thankful for today?
Once we finish that task, I have no pressing responsibilities for the rest of the day.
None, zip, nada.
We're home for a quick half hour before we turn around and head out again to bring our Jonzter back to us. And then it's a quiet evening in for us.
My body is telling me to stay inside and take it easy. The weather is telling us to stay inside and take it easy.
I'm going to listen.
Homework, reading, music, movies, simple dinner, and early bedtime (for me at least:)).
I love afternoons like this. I love evenings like this.
I love this time of year. I love that my children are still young and forced to be home with me. While I think having teenagers will be awesome, I know they'll be out and about more often than home. I really like having my family all together at home.
My favorite people in my favorite place on a lovely and quiet evening during my favorite season.
Life is lovely.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Parenthood
It's tough being a parent.
My heart must be a muscular mess after all the squashing, bursting, wrenching, swelling, stopping, breaking, and general emotional gymnastics motherhood has put it through.
The latest major incident to my heart came this past Tuesday. My little Alligator fell off the swing and busted the back of his head open. Thankfully, the bleeding slowed pretty quickly and I was able to get everyone to the doctor without incident.
Though not the first time witnessing my child getting stitches, this was the first time any of them has had the numbing shots. In the past, that cool gel stuff has been sufficient.
Watching my son endure such intense pain and trusting the adults so much that he lay still through the ordeal was heart-breaking.
There was my son going through something so painful. I knew that in just a few minutes the pain would be gone and then the steps could be taken to make sure his skin healed properly and quickly. In the long run, this was the very best thing for him even though it had to hurt so much.
I knew that. I knew it was best for him. I knew that the pain would soon be gone.
But he didn't.
Watching him cry and shake while I tried to assure him that he would soon feel so much better and that it was almost over made all my insides feel heavy. Even though I knew everything would be okay very soon, I was ready to cry right along with him.
And even now, days later, when I think of what he did after they stopped numbing him, I get a bit choked up. I was kneeling next to him and he turned his little head toward me and locked his sad eyes so full of tears on mine and in a hurt little voice he simply said, "That hurt."
Knife to the heart.
Oddly enough (or not), one of the first things that ran through my head in those heart-breaking moments was how hard it must be to be Heavenly Father. I know that he knows what is best for each of us. I now also know more firmly that he hurts for us and with us when we're struggling through our trials. I know he's not up there saying, "Quit yer belly-achin'; this'll do you good." He doesn't like us being in any kind of pain any more than we do. And I can't imagine all the heartache he endures watching us.
It's tough being a parent.
I'm thankful my son is healing well. I'm thankful his injuries weren't any worse. I'm thankful he still trusts me after taking him to the doctor. I'm thankful for the crazy journey motherhood has put me on. And I'm thankful for a loving Heavenly Father.
What are you thankful for today?
My heart must be a muscular mess after all the squashing, bursting, wrenching, swelling, stopping, breaking, and general emotional gymnastics motherhood has put it through.
The latest major incident to my heart came this past Tuesday. My little Alligator fell off the swing and busted the back of his head open. Thankfully, the bleeding slowed pretty quickly and I was able to get everyone to the doctor without incident.
Though not the first time witnessing my child getting stitches, this was the first time any of them has had the numbing shots. In the past, that cool gel stuff has been sufficient.
Watching my son endure such intense pain and trusting the adults so much that he lay still through the ordeal was heart-breaking.
There was my son going through something so painful. I knew that in just a few minutes the pain would be gone and then the steps could be taken to make sure his skin healed properly and quickly. In the long run, this was the very best thing for him even though it had to hurt so much.
I knew that. I knew it was best for him. I knew that the pain would soon be gone.
But he didn't.
Watching him cry and shake while I tried to assure him that he would soon feel so much better and that it was almost over made all my insides feel heavy. Even though I knew everything would be okay very soon, I was ready to cry right along with him.
And even now, days later, when I think of what he did after they stopped numbing him, I get a bit choked up. I was kneeling next to him and he turned his little head toward me and locked his sad eyes so full of tears on mine and in a hurt little voice he simply said, "That hurt."
Knife to the heart.
Oddly enough (or not), one of the first things that ran through my head in those heart-breaking moments was how hard it must be to be Heavenly Father. I know that he knows what is best for each of us. I now also know more firmly that he hurts for us and with us when we're struggling through our trials. I know he's not up there saying, "Quit yer belly-achin'; this'll do you good." He doesn't like us being in any kind of pain any more than we do. And I can't imagine all the heartache he endures watching us.
It's tough being a parent.
I'm thankful my son is healing well. I'm thankful his injuries weren't any worse. I'm thankful he still trusts me after taking him to the doctor. I'm thankful for the crazy journey motherhood has put me on. And I'm thankful for a loving Heavenly Father.
What are you thankful for today?
Monday, October 15, 2012
Days late, dollars short
Last week was hard. It served as another reminder and somewhat of a warning.
I was reminded that there is another stage after fake-out.
Meltdown.
Last week I really didn't sleep. I seem to have been low on whatever hormone helps with sleep. Nights were spent sleeping in 20-30 minute chunks and flopping endlessly between my two available sleeping positions.
Tuesday the fake-out started to give out and by Wednesday I felt a full on meltdown coming on. That's when I remembered that my biggest meltdowns post-babies came after a few days of extremely little sleep+body exhausted trying to heal from surgery, childbirth, and the new task of producing food for a baby.
As far as meltdowns go, Wednesday wasn't that bad. But by three in the afternoon, when I was thisclose to crying merely because my legs were so uncomfortable...and then because I felt like a two year old, the reminder hit home.
I need to be better this time about accepting help after the baby comes. And when I accept that help, it's not time to get something else done- it's time to sleep.
I'm loving all these reminders. I feel much better prepared for this baby...but I'm still worried I'll forget everything in the fog of exhaustion and pain. So, dear friends and family- PLEASE help me remember:)
I'm so thankful for my amazing family and friends. And I'm thankful that Heavenly Father continues to help me prepare for this next big life change.
What are you thankful for today?
I was reminded that there is another stage after fake-out.
Meltdown.
Last week I really didn't sleep. I seem to have been low on whatever hormone helps with sleep. Nights were spent sleeping in 20-30 minute chunks and flopping endlessly between my two available sleeping positions.
Tuesday the fake-out started to give out and by Wednesday I felt a full on meltdown coming on. That's when I remembered that my biggest meltdowns post-babies came after a few days of extremely little sleep+body exhausted trying to heal from surgery, childbirth, and the new task of producing food for a baby.
As far as meltdowns go, Wednesday wasn't that bad. But by three in the afternoon, when I was thisclose to crying merely because my legs were so uncomfortable...and then because I felt like a two year old, the reminder hit home.
I need to be better this time about accepting help after the baby comes. And when I accept that help, it's not time to get something else done- it's time to sleep.
I'm loving all these reminders. I feel much better prepared for this baby...but I'm still worried I'll forget everything in the fog of exhaustion and pain. So, dear friends and family- PLEASE help me remember:)
I'm so thankful for my amazing family and friends. And I'm thankful that Heavenly Father continues to help me prepare for this next big life change.
What are you thankful for today?
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Boy or girl?
In less than three months, we will meet the newest member of our family.
We don't know who is busy growing inside me.
Is it a little boy waiting to join the troop? Is it a little girl about to add a very different dynamic to our family?
Whoooooo is it?
We don't know and we don't want to know yet.
And when I say 'we' I really mean 'I' and that Bret is being incredibly supportive of this new desire of mine.
It's no secret here that I am not a fan of c-sections but that I am doomed to have them. In trying to come up with ways to make the surgery experience happier, I decided that not knowing the gender of the baby would help lessen the fear felt during one of the most hated times- walking into the operating room without Bret and laying and shivering on the table for a seemingly interminable time with a room full of people who ask me occasional perfunctory questions as I try not to think about how much the next few weeks are going to hurt or when they'll let my husband come in.
I am sure that some amount of fear and trepidation will still be there, but how nice it will be to fight those feelings with the excitement and anticipation of being so near to finally meeting our baby and finding out if our boys will have a brother or a sister!
Sharing this news with others, though, has brought up unforeseen concerns (which I am having a hard time articulating, but here's my shot at it-).
Bret and I are the happy parents to three amazing boys.
So, "naturally," many people expect us to have a girl. Not only that, many people expect that we are desperately trying for a girl.
Which leads me to wonder- are people going to be disappointed if this baby is a boy? Or will they think that Bret or I are somehow disappointed? If this baby is a girl, are people going to make comments about how now we can stop having kids because we got what we wanted?
What other people think really doesn't matter and most people in our circle won't be part of that crowd. This baby is wanted and will be loved no matter what, and he or she will be raised in our home knowing that.
It's just that I hate to think that there will be people who are disappointed at the birth of this child.
We're happy. We're going to be thrilled either way. So I declare that everyone else must be happy, too.
We don't know who is busy growing inside me.
Is it a little boy waiting to join the troop? Is it a little girl about to add a very different dynamic to our family?
Whoooooo is it?
We don't know and we don't want to know yet.
And when I say 'we' I really mean 'I' and that Bret is being incredibly supportive of this new desire of mine.
It's no secret here that I am not a fan of c-sections but that I am doomed to have them. In trying to come up with ways to make the surgery experience happier, I decided that not knowing the gender of the baby would help lessen the fear felt during one of the most hated times- walking into the operating room without Bret and laying and shivering on the table for a seemingly interminable time with a room full of people who ask me occasional perfunctory questions as I try not to think about how much the next few weeks are going to hurt or when they'll let my husband come in.
I am sure that some amount of fear and trepidation will still be there, but how nice it will be to fight those feelings with the excitement and anticipation of being so near to finally meeting our baby and finding out if our boys will have a brother or a sister!
Sharing this news with others, though, has brought up unforeseen concerns (which I am having a hard time articulating, but here's my shot at it-).
Bret and I are the happy parents to three amazing boys.
So, "naturally," many people expect us to have a girl. Not only that, many people expect that we are desperately trying for a girl.
Which leads me to wonder- are people going to be disappointed if this baby is a boy? Or will they think that Bret or I are somehow disappointed? If this baby is a girl, are people going to make comments about how now we can stop having kids because we got what we wanted?
What other people think really doesn't matter and most people in our circle won't be part of that crowd. This baby is wanted and will be loved no matter what, and he or she will be raised in our home knowing that.
It's just that I hate to think that there will be people who are disappointed at the birth of this child.
We're happy. We're going to be thrilled either way. So I declare that everyone else must be happy, too.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Thanks
This whole sickness thing is weirding me out.
I actually got to the point yesterday that I felt like I'd have the energy to at least go out and get the car registered and return library books.
So we did. And it was great to get out and great to get back.
The laundry was washed and folded...putting it away is a whole different story...
Yet while everyone managed to stay in their beds last night, I still didn't sleep so well.
I'm feeling much better today, health-wise, though I have no desire to go anywhere.
While pondering how I can feel so normal (as normal as it gets, ya know) after two days of extremely little sleep- it hit me.
This is what it feels like! I remember this feeling!
It's that feeling I feel when I've got a new baby (or babies, as the case may be) and my body finally clicks into "fake out zone." That zone where I'm still not getting much sleep, but I'm somehow faking myself out that I'm not that tired.
I'm feeling that today. And it's giving me this weird mix of hope and trepidation. While this feeling is vital to surviving the transition of adding someone to the family, it does have this other-worldly vibe to it; which is slightly unnerving.
But it's also a hopeful realization. I often start to wonder and worry how I'm going to cope with four kiddos. (Then I force myself to stop thinking about it and pretend the future is a long way off; out of sight-out of mind.)
The past two days of illness and fake out zone feel as if they've been designed to give me more hope.
Even though most of my body is working overtime to create this new little body, it still found the means to conquer the latest bug. Quickly! And even running on little sleep! I am reminded to have hope in the healing process. Post-birthday there will be pain and exhaustion, body and soul. But this body I have been blessed with will heal. And it has done so fairly quickly in the past considering what is inflicted on it, so I won't be surprised if it pulls through quickly again.
And sleep? I can get by without when the need arises.
Hope:)
Thanks for the reminder, Heavenly Father!
What are you thankful for today?
I actually got to the point yesterday that I felt like I'd have the energy to at least go out and get the car registered and return library books.
So we did. And it was great to get out and great to get back.
The laundry was washed and folded...putting it away is a whole different story...
Yet while everyone managed to stay in their beds last night, I still didn't sleep so well.
I'm feeling much better today, health-wise, though I have no desire to go anywhere.
While pondering how I can feel so normal (as normal as it gets, ya know) after two days of extremely little sleep- it hit me.
This is what it feels like! I remember this feeling!
It's that feeling I feel when I've got a new baby (or babies, as the case may be) and my body finally clicks into "fake out zone." That zone where I'm still not getting much sleep, but I'm somehow faking myself out that I'm not that tired.
I'm feeling that today. And it's giving me this weird mix of hope and trepidation. While this feeling is vital to surviving the transition of adding someone to the family, it does have this other-worldly vibe to it; which is slightly unnerving.
But it's also a hopeful realization. I often start to wonder and worry how I'm going to cope with four kiddos. (Then I force myself to stop thinking about it and pretend the future is a long way off; out of sight-out of mind.)
The past two days of illness and fake out zone feel as if they've been designed to give me more hope.
Even though most of my body is working overtime to create this new little body, it still found the means to conquer the latest bug. Quickly! And even running on little sleep! I am reminded to have hope in the healing process. Post-birthday there will be pain and exhaustion, body and soul. But this body I have been blessed with will heal. And it has done so fairly quickly in the past considering what is inflicted on it, so I won't be surprised if it pulls through quickly again.
And sleep? I can get by without when the need arises.
Hope:)
Thanks for the reminder, Heavenly Father!
What are you thankful for today?
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
When Mom is sick
I've got a cold.
And I'm pregnant.
By themselves those things are detrimental to one's sleep.
Put them together and you get one very tired mommy after one very long night.
Especially when you add in one seven year old with growing pains (why do those happen most often in the middle of the night???) and one four year old needing help finding kleenex in the middle of the night since he woke himself up coughing.
Isnotsobad, though.
I'm still in my pajamas, sitting here on the couch with my heavy head and my kleenex box. I'm watching my wonderful (literally) sons play in the colorful backyard and listening to them talk, fight, laugh, and snap at each other intermittently. I am enjoying the views immensely. The shape of the back of their heads and ears. Their tough little legs and buff little arms. The way they run. Their profiles with their perfect little noses and lips and long eyelashes. Their joyful smiles as they dart back and forth in front of the door because the only hardships in life are getting your brother to agree to play the way you dictate and waiting until the next treat comes.
The October sunshine is streaming through my beloved large windows and giving a whole new perspective to beautiful autumn decorations. The temperture is not supposed to go above 70 for the next few days (ahhhhhhhh:)).
It is a bit difficult to not worry about all I had planned to get done today. Two loads of laundry need to be washed, hung, and folded (along with the two loads I just left in the hampers from Monday and Tuesday). I need to go to the grocery store. I need to get the car registered. Library books are due today and I've got to get those back before they slap me with some fines. I've got things that need to be done for church. I need to come up with options of how to rearrange the house to accommodate a new baby. I need to keep the Jonzter on his intellectual toes while he's off track for the next couple weeks....
But.
I did manage to get the dishes in the dishwasher and start a load of laundry. That bodes well, right? Maybe I'll be able to get to other things on the list before the day is over.
All this is a foggy-headed, drained, sick, and pregnant woman's way of trying to say- if I have to be sick, this is how I want it to be.
The responsibilities on my plate are either possible to do or to postpone. I can be out of bed without feeling like death. My children are old enough to take care of most necessities for themselves and, with supervision, remember to obey all the rules and keep themselves safe. I have kleenex. I have water. I have food (even though I don't want to eat it). The weather is beautiful. The season is lovely.
And while if I had my say, I'd choose NOT being sick over this...
Yep. This is my kind of sick day.
Now, if only I could take a bunch of Nyquil, my children got along happily all day, a fairy came to transform my house to an immaculately clean and organized state, and my husband were here to stroke my hair while I fell into a drug-induced-but-restorative sleep.
I guess I can't have everything:)
And I'm pregnant.
By themselves those things are detrimental to one's sleep.
Put them together and you get one very tired mommy after one very long night.
Especially when you add in one seven year old with growing pains (why do those happen most often in the middle of the night???) and one four year old needing help finding kleenex in the middle of the night since he woke himself up coughing.
Isnotsobad, though.
I'm still in my pajamas, sitting here on the couch with my heavy head and my kleenex box. I'm watching my wonderful (literally) sons play in the colorful backyard and listening to them talk, fight, laugh, and snap at each other intermittently. I am enjoying the views immensely. The shape of the back of their heads and ears. Their tough little legs and buff little arms. The way they run. Their profiles with their perfect little noses and lips and long eyelashes. Their joyful smiles as they dart back and forth in front of the door because the only hardships in life are getting your brother to agree to play the way you dictate and waiting until the next treat comes.
The October sunshine is streaming through my beloved large windows and giving a whole new perspective to beautiful autumn decorations. The temperture is not supposed to go above 70 for the next few days (ahhhhhhhh:)).
It is a bit difficult to not worry about all I had planned to get done today. Two loads of laundry need to be washed, hung, and folded (along with the two loads I just left in the hampers from Monday and Tuesday). I need to go to the grocery store. I need to get the car registered. Library books are due today and I've got to get those back before they slap me with some fines. I've got things that need to be done for church. I need to come up with options of how to rearrange the house to accommodate a new baby. I need to keep the Jonzter on his intellectual toes while he's off track for the next couple weeks....
But.
I did manage to get the dishes in the dishwasher and start a load of laundry. That bodes well, right? Maybe I'll be able to get to other things on the list before the day is over.
All this is a foggy-headed, drained, sick, and pregnant woman's way of trying to say- if I have to be sick, this is how I want it to be.
The responsibilities on my plate are either possible to do or to postpone. I can be out of bed without feeling like death. My children are old enough to take care of most necessities for themselves and, with supervision, remember to obey all the rules and keep themselves safe. I have kleenex. I have water. I have food (even though I don't want to eat it). The weather is beautiful. The season is lovely.
And while if I had my say, I'd choose NOT being sick over this...
Yep. This is my kind of sick day.
Now, if only I could take a bunch of Nyquil, my children got along happily all day, a fairy came to transform my house to an immaculately clean and organized state, and my husband were here to stroke my hair while I fell into a drug-induced-but-restorative sleep.
I guess I can't have everything:)
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Look out- there goes that crazy mormon lady...
Every once in a while, I get a glimpse into the anti-Mormon world.
Gotta say- creeps.me.out.
Most of these glimpses come through the internet.
There is a distinct feeling that comes with these glimpses.
It's dark. Really, really dark.
My insides instantly feel very heavy.
My heart pounds a bit harder and faster. Not much, but enough to notice a difference.
My feet even feel...strange and tingle uncomfortably.
I don't like it.
Thankfully, this doesn't happen very often.
I've learned to leave youtube well enough alone for all things religious. I've learned what sites are good to visit and a few which aren't. Comments sections are ALWAYS a risk.
But sometimes...the adversary is successful in blasting me with something. This has happened less and less over the years as I've come to recognize the distinct feeling and the "Don't, Lindsey. Don't click on that." feeling. Even things that seem completely innocent have been purposely misleading. But mostly where they get me is in those blasted comments sections.
I can't for the life of me understand why there are people out there that see me and my family as a danger to society.
I can't for the life of me understand why they feel driven to be so hateful and dark and cruel in their attacks veiled as attempts to "educate the public and the brainwashed Mormons" about the "truth."
I suppose that's not entirely true. I understand that Satan is behind it all and he has a purpose. But I can't understand why so many people are convinced by such hatred. Perhaps they don't recognize the difference feelings had between reading something uplifting and reading something evil.
After my latest incident this afternoon- I stared at the screen, very disappointed with the people who put such filth out there and desecrate sacred things, but reminded of things I am grateful for.
I'm thankful to know the truth. The real truth.
I'm thankful for the protection and guidance of the Holy Ghost. Where would I be without those warnings of danger or those teaching moments?
I'm thankful for the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I'm thankful to live in a time when the most "persecution" I endure for being a member of the LDS church are glares or snide remarks and that I've never had to worry about my safety or my family's. And that I can control most of what comes into my home and keep it uplifting.
I'm thankful that my sweet and innocent boys still have no idea what kind of evil lurks out there in the world (and I plan to keep it that way for as long as I can!).
I'm thankful for the knowledge that even though it's disheartening to see the world as it is and know it will get even worse, it won't always be this way. There is an end.
And in a completely unrelated note: I am thankful for danishes. Yummy:)
What are you thankful for today?
Gotta say- creeps.me.out.
Most of these glimpses come through the internet.
There is a distinct feeling that comes with these glimpses.
It's dark. Really, really dark.
My insides instantly feel very heavy.
My heart pounds a bit harder and faster. Not much, but enough to notice a difference.
My feet even feel...strange and tingle uncomfortably.
I don't like it.
Thankfully, this doesn't happen very often.
I've learned to leave youtube well enough alone for all things religious. I've learned what sites are good to visit and a few which aren't. Comments sections are ALWAYS a risk.
But sometimes...the adversary is successful in blasting me with something. This has happened less and less over the years as I've come to recognize the distinct feeling and the "Don't, Lindsey. Don't click on that." feeling. Even things that seem completely innocent have been purposely misleading. But mostly where they get me is in those blasted comments sections.
I can't for the life of me understand why there are people out there that see me and my family as a danger to society.
I can't for the life of me understand why they feel driven to be so hateful and dark and cruel in their attacks veiled as attempts to "educate the public and the brainwashed Mormons" about the "truth."
I suppose that's not entirely true. I understand that Satan is behind it all and he has a purpose. But I can't understand why so many people are convinced by such hatred. Perhaps they don't recognize the difference feelings had between reading something uplifting and reading something evil.
After my latest incident this afternoon- I stared at the screen, very disappointed with the people who put such filth out there and desecrate sacred things, but reminded of things I am grateful for.
I'm thankful to know the truth. The real truth.
I'm thankful for the protection and guidance of the Holy Ghost. Where would I be without those warnings of danger or those teaching moments?
I'm thankful for the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I'm thankful to live in a time when the most "persecution" I endure for being a member of the LDS church are glares or snide remarks and that I've never had to worry about my safety or my family's. And that I can control most of what comes into my home and keep it uplifting.
I'm thankful that my sweet and innocent boys still have no idea what kind of evil lurks out there in the world (and I plan to keep it that way for as long as I can!).
I'm thankful for the knowledge that even though it's disheartening to see the world as it is and know it will get even worse, it won't always be this way. There is an end.
And in a completely unrelated note: I am thankful for danishes. Yummy:)
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, September 20, 2012
"The dearest day in all the year"
For this installment of Thankful Thursday, I'd like to share a blessing of hope I've been given in small installments over the past few months. Little reminders of things to look forward to and have hope in for this coming December. I can't express it as well as I would like, but here's my attempt:
While pregnant with Jonz and after he was born, I realized there are better times of the year than others to have a baby.
Jonz arrival was perfectly timed. I got pregnant at the end of the summer after a mere two months of trying (I know what a huge blessing that is). I was still in school and soon found that my due date would be the day after finals ended for winter semester. Perfect.
Not being pregnant during the hot summer months? Fantastic.
Having a spring baby and not worrying about him freezing or getting RSV? Awesome.
No holidays to contend with or miss out of the fun? Great.
I decided that I really liked spring babies and that the months of April-June were probably the best time of year to give birth. That led to deciding which time of year would be the worst- December, of course. A December baby mean pregnant in the summer, major restrictions on Christmas fun with others, and stressing about sickness and RSV. It also means poor kiddo will feel jipped out of birthday fun as everyone is excited about Christmas and has little attention for another party or resources for another present.
I was so concerned that December was just a mean time to have a baby, for mom, child, family, and friends, that I calculated possible birthdates while we tried for seven long months to conceive the second time. I was just about to tell Bret that we were done trying for a couple months, to avoid having a baby in December, when we found out I was pregnant.
Al and Goose were not so well timed as Jonz. They were due December 1st. I decided that was okay. Far away enough from Christmas and Thanksgiving that we'd be able to make the best of it. The boys arrived three weeks early, two weeks before our anniversary and Thanksgiving, were just six weeks old at Christmas (which passed us in a blur of sleepy holidary merriment), and both were taken down by RSV by two months of age.
Yay;)
I was now beyond certain that I never wanted to have a baby in the month of December; November was crazy enough.
Years later, prayers were answered and we started trying for another baby. I was sure that after waiting so long for an answer that the heavenly direction meant we would get pregnant as soon as we started trying and thought we'd have a baby by the end of October or early November.
Silly Lindsey.
Two failed cycles later I was confused, but sort of humbled (you know, as much as I ever get). Painful symptoms soon had me sure I was on the cusp of failed cycle #3. So sure, in fact, that I told my husband how disappointed I was that there would be yet more waiting...Until I remembered December.
"Whew! What a close break. We'd have had a Christmastime baby if we'd been successful this month."
...Only what I'd thought was a rough case of pms turned out to be pregnancy symptoms.
In the excitement of being newly pregnant, I pushed December out of my mind. A month in, Bret and I got the calendar down and counted 40 weeks...and landed on December 24th.
Oh. my.
A couple weeks later I called the doctor to make an appointment and was told my due date was not the 24th, but the 25th.
An ultrasound in July confirmed- due date is December 25, 2012.
Yes sir, people- God has quite a sense of humor.
I admit- I haven't been thrilled about the timing of this little one's arrival. But I keep getting little pieces of hope that brighten me up more and more.
There is a perk to having c-sections for me. I'm not allowed to go into labor so the doctor is planning on taking the baby out at 39 weeks. Meaning that not only will this baby be born before Christmas day, but barring complications (knock on wood-cross fingers-pray, pray, pray) we'll all be out of the hospital and home for Christmas.
I have worried a lot about being able to make this a happy holiday season for my family. I may not be able to bake as much, but I can still bake some tasty, traditional treats. And there's not much I enjoy more than a December evening watching a Christmas movie with my family. I should still be able to waddle about and help pick out a Christmas tree. I can place our loved decorations around our home. I can get all the shopping done before Thanksgiving...hopefully. We can still read stories and sing songs every night. And I can fill our home with the wonderful sounds of the season, hour after hour. I can even still take care of the inevitable sicknesses we'll have (pleeeeeeease don't let us get something horrible this year!).
We'll still have a lovely Christmas.
I'm actually excited for the hospital experience this time, too.
Well...you know, except for the i.v., the blood draws, the being separated from Bret during the most anxious time pre-surgery, the powerful drugs, the fire-like pain, the inability to move without said pain, trying to figure out nursing with my brand new crying machine in the middle of the night, and having an intern wake me up to check my vitals five minutes after I finally manage to fall asleep.
Except for all that, I AM looking forward to the hospital. I am better prepared to face it this time. There will probably be Christmas decorations. Everyone is nicer so close to Christmas (which means nurses will be more patient, right???:)) And I'll finally know who this little one is! Plus, with three kiddos, I expect that Bret's time off those first few days will be mostly taken up caring for the boys at home. Before, I needed/required/begged him to stay with me; even making him try to sleep on those uncomfortable fold out chairs. I am prepared to be alone this time around. So much so, that I'm actually excited for it. Think of all the alone time:) I plan on packing my laptop and some of my favorite Christmas movies. I will cuddle a new baby, listen to some of my favorite music, watch some happy movies, enjoy some regular chunks of solitude, and I think I may even try to make myself look presentable this time around.
My past two experiences, I have at least managed to shower in the hospital. But it took so much out of me that I would get right back into bed, wet hair and all. Saline and pregnancy swollen face, red and puffy eyes from lack of sleep, zero make-up, and air-dried hair (i.e. my many cowlicks left to roam free)= pretty, pretty girl. I am determined to at least try to look better this time around. Even if it means I just beg my mom to do my hair:)
While pregnant with Jonz and after he was born, I realized there are better times of the year than others to have a baby.
Jonz arrival was perfectly timed. I got pregnant at the end of the summer after a mere two months of trying (I know what a huge blessing that is). I was still in school and soon found that my due date would be the day after finals ended for winter semester. Perfect.
Not being pregnant during the hot summer months? Fantastic.
Having a spring baby and not worrying about him freezing or getting RSV? Awesome.
No holidays to contend with or miss out of the fun? Great.
I decided that I really liked spring babies and that the months of April-June were probably the best time of year to give birth. That led to deciding which time of year would be the worst- December, of course. A December baby mean pregnant in the summer, major restrictions on Christmas fun with others, and stressing about sickness and RSV. It also means poor kiddo will feel jipped out of birthday fun as everyone is excited about Christmas and has little attention for another party or resources for another present.
I was so concerned that December was just a mean time to have a baby, for mom, child, family, and friends, that I calculated possible birthdates while we tried for seven long months to conceive the second time. I was just about to tell Bret that we were done trying for a couple months, to avoid having a baby in December, when we found out I was pregnant.
Al and Goose were not so well timed as Jonz. They were due December 1st. I decided that was okay. Far away enough from Christmas and Thanksgiving that we'd be able to make the best of it. The boys arrived three weeks early, two weeks before our anniversary and Thanksgiving, were just six weeks old at Christmas (which passed us in a blur of sleepy holidary merriment), and both were taken down by RSV by two months of age.
Yay;)
I was now beyond certain that I never wanted to have a baby in the month of December; November was crazy enough.
Years later, prayers were answered and we started trying for another baby. I was sure that after waiting so long for an answer that the heavenly direction meant we would get pregnant as soon as we started trying and thought we'd have a baby by the end of October or early November.
Silly Lindsey.
Two failed cycles later I was confused, but sort of humbled (you know, as much as I ever get). Painful symptoms soon had me sure I was on the cusp of failed cycle #3. So sure, in fact, that I told my husband how disappointed I was that there would be yet more waiting...Until I remembered December.
"Whew! What a close break. We'd have had a Christmastime baby if we'd been successful this month."
...Only what I'd thought was a rough case of pms turned out to be pregnancy symptoms.
In the excitement of being newly pregnant, I pushed December out of my mind. A month in, Bret and I got the calendar down and counted 40 weeks...and landed on December 24th.
Oh. my.
A couple weeks later I called the doctor to make an appointment and was told my due date was not the 24th, but the 25th.
An ultrasound in July confirmed- due date is December 25, 2012.
Yes sir, people- God has quite a sense of humor.
I admit- I haven't been thrilled about the timing of this little one's arrival. But I keep getting little pieces of hope that brighten me up more and more.
There is a perk to having c-sections for me. I'm not allowed to go into labor so the doctor is planning on taking the baby out at 39 weeks. Meaning that not only will this baby be born before Christmas day, but barring complications (knock on wood-cross fingers-pray, pray, pray) we'll all be out of the hospital and home for Christmas.
I have worried a lot about being able to make this a happy holiday season for my family. I may not be able to bake as much, but I can still bake some tasty, traditional treats. And there's not much I enjoy more than a December evening watching a Christmas movie with my family. I should still be able to waddle about and help pick out a Christmas tree. I can place our loved decorations around our home. I can get all the shopping done before Thanksgiving...hopefully. We can still read stories and sing songs every night. And I can fill our home with the wonderful sounds of the season, hour after hour. I can even still take care of the inevitable sicknesses we'll have (pleeeeeeease don't let us get something horrible this year!).
We'll still have a lovely Christmas.
I'm actually excited for the hospital experience this time, too.
Well...you know, except for the i.v., the blood draws, the being separated from Bret during the most anxious time pre-surgery, the powerful drugs, the fire-like pain, the inability to move without said pain, trying to figure out nursing with my brand new crying machine in the middle of the night, and having an intern wake me up to check my vitals five minutes after I finally manage to fall asleep.
Except for all that, I AM looking forward to the hospital. I am better prepared to face it this time. There will probably be Christmas decorations. Everyone is nicer so close to Christmas (which means nurses will be more patient, right???:)) And I'll finally know who this little one is! Plus, with three kiddos, I expect that Bret's time off those first few days will be mostly taken up caring for the boys at home. Before, I needed/required/begged him to stay with me; even making him try to sleep on those uncomfortable fold out chairs. I am prepared to be alone this time around. So much so, that I'm actually excited for it. Think of all the alone time:) I plan on packing my laptop and some of my favorite Christmas movies. I will cuddle a new baby, listen to some of my favorite music, watch some happy movies, enjoy some regular chunks of solitude, and I think I may even try to make myself look presentable this time around.
My past two experiences, I have at least managed to shower in the hospital. But it took so much out of me that I would get right back into bed, wet hair and all. Saline and pregnancy swollen face, red and puffy eyes from lack of sleep, zero make-up, and air-dried hair (i.e. my many cowlicks left to roam free)= pretty, pretty girl. I am determined to at least try to look better this time around. Even if it means I just beg my mom to do my hair:)
But if perhaps I am not remembering precisely how difficult it is to raise one's arms to one's head and face after abdominal surgery and I am yet again shocked and drained by it- no cameras are allowed to be pointed at me. At. all. Just sos ya know.
There will be some special circumstances to worry about with this Christmastime birth, some for many years to come. But I have hope that this will be an enjoyable holiday season.
It is, after all, the most wonderful time of the year.
Our family will be getting an eternal gift this year in a new family member. And during a season where many people are thinking more on the greatest gift we've all ever received, to boot.
So stayed tuned. It's gonna be awesome:)
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Thankful Thursday
Here are things I'm thankful for lately:
September.
Temperatures staying in the 60s or 70s for most of the day.
Scriptures.
Old Navy maternity jeans.
Good men.
Imaginative, silly, sweet, forgiving, resilient, confident, wonderful sons (despite the intense bout of deafness they seem to be suffering from when it comes to my voice...).
Books.
Warm showers.
Anticipation of putting up my autumn decorations.
Quick responding policemen who stopped the crazy woman in the street.
That even though I can't lay comfortably anywhere else, my bed still offers a place of refuge for my achy self.
Prayer.
Cool breezes through open windows.
The smell of freshly cut grass.
That the third annual Family Celebration starts next week.
Cooked carrots.
Watching my boys run through the grass in the sunshine with smiles lighting their faces.
The satisfaction of watching clean laundry swaying on the line in a breeze.
Looney Tunes.
Applesauce.
and finally-
Heavenly Father for hearing me, Jesus for healing me, and the Holy Ghost for comforting me.
What are you thankful for today??????
September.
Temperatures staying in the 60s or 70s for most of the day.
Scriptures.
Old Navy maternity jeans.
Good men.
Imaginative, silly, sweet, forgiving, resilient, confident, wonderful sons (despite the intense bout of deafness they seem to be suffering from when it comes to my voice...).
Books.
Warm showers.
Anticipation of putting up my autumn decorations.
Quick responding policemen who stopped the crazy woman in the street.
That even though I can't lay comfortably anywhere else, my bed still offers a place of refuge for my achy self.
Prayer.
Cool breezes through open windows.
The smell of freshly cut grass.
That the third annual Family Celebration starts next week.
Cooked carrots.
Watching my boys run through the grass in the sunshine with smiles lighting their faces.
The satisfaction of watching clean laundry swaying on the line in a breeze.
Looney Tunes.
Applesauce.
and finally-
Heavenly Father for hearing me, Jesus for healing me, and the Holy Ghost for comforting me.
What are you thankful for today??????
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
*head-palm*
If there were grades for social graces, I would get a big fat F.
I'm so single-minded when I'm out and about (where are the boys? 1-2-3- good, let's get from point a to point b, 1-2-3, almost there, 1-2-3, stop four year old from running into street, 1-2-3, grab other four year old before he walks into the wall, 1-2-3 boys check....etc. etc. etc) that I make little room in my brain for other stuff that pops up.
That, and I need a few moments of concentration to process. Just a few moments is all I ask and the cogs in my brain will click into place. With pregnancy though, I need more moments than usual.
But I rarely get those few moments in the rush of life (both because life is rushed and I tend to rush along the slower things to make more time for the more rushed things).
Social grace, propriety, and manners usually fail me in such situations.
Case in point:
Took the boys to the library after picking Jonz up from school today (and stopping back at the house to get shoes for my barefoot twins). Wanted to get in and out quickly because I had laundry that needed hanging up soon before we miss the good light and breeze.
After getting into the library, Al manages to walk into the back of a woman (kid is fond of looking anywhere but the direction he's walking:)). She starts to apologize and turns around, recognizes Al and says, "Oh, Hi! How are you?" Then she looked up at me and my pregnant self and says something along the lines of, "Hi! Oh, how are you doing? And you're expecting another little one!" with a big, sweet smile on her face.
Then there's me. Train of thought goes something this, "Dang, this lady has me confused with someone. 1-2-3. I have no idea who you are. Got to pick up my books on hold before the boys pick something out. Wait, you look familiar. 1-2-3. Shoot, I should know her. 1-2...AH, oh whew 3. I've got to get that laundry on the line. Baseball; why is baseball ringing a bell? Man, I'm starving! 1-2-3. Let's get out of here so I can get home and eat something!"
All while making mindless responses like "mm-hmm, we're pretty excited. Yep, nice to see you." and walking away thinking "yeah, must have been a case of mistaken identity."
It wasn't until we were outside the library, headed to the car and loaded down with books and dvds that the cogs finally slipped into place.
Little league! Her son was on Jonz' team two years ago! We DO know each other.
And now I have guilt. I don't remember her name and we only crossed paths for a couple months two years ago, but good heavens Lindsey! She is, and always was, genuinely nice to me and the boys. I couldn't take two seconds to slow down and remember or even say, "I'm sorry, I know I should know you, but I just can't place...oh! Baseball! It's so nice to see you, how are you?!" instead of my disingenuious and awkward "mm-hmms" and lack of eye contact?!?!?
Gaaaaaaaah. Fail, fail, fail.
Goal #7,693 for the Improvement of Lindsey- worry less about point a to point b and take time with the people around me, whether I know them (or remember them) or not.
So I'm sorry kind woman from baseball who in all likelihood doesn't read here. I do remember you, I do appreciate your smile and the time you take to talk to me. Your boys have grown so much I didn't reconize them, either, but they look wonderful. Thank you for being more observant and having more social grace than me. I hope that life is treating you well and that I can cross paths with you again.
Please tell me I'm not the only socially inept one out there!
I'm so single-minded when I'm out and about (where are the boys? 1-2-3- good, let's get from point a to point b, 1-2-3, almost there, 1-2-3, stop four year old from running into street, 1-2-3, grab other four year old before he walks into the wall, 1-2-3 boys check....etc. etc. etc) that I make little room in my brain for other stuff that pops up.
That, and I need a few moments of concentration to process. Just a few moments is all I ask and the cogs in my brain will click into place. With pregnancy though, I need more moments than usual.
But I rarely get those few moments in the rush of life (both because life is rushed and I tend to rush along the slower things to make more time for the more rushed things).
Social grace, propriety, and manners usually fail me in such situations.
Case in point:
Took the boys to the library after picking Jonz up from school today (and stopping back at the house to get shoes for my barefoot twins). Wanted to get in and out quickly because I had laundry that needed hanging up soon before we miss the good light and breeze.
After getting into the library, Al manages to walk into the back of a woman (kid is fond of looking anywhere but the direction he's walking:)). She starts to apologize and turns around, recognizes Al and says, "Oh, Hi! How are you?" Then she looked up at me and my pregnant self and says something along the lines of, "Hi! Oh, how are you doing? And you're expecting another little one!" with a big, sweet smile on her face.
Then there's me. Train of thought goes something this, "Dang, this lady has me confused with someone. 1-2-3. I have no idea who you are. Got to pick up my books on hold before the boys pick something out. Wait, you look familiar. 1-2-3. Shoot, I should know her. 1-2...AH, oh whew 3. I've got to get that laundry on the line. Baseball; why is baseball ringing a bell? Man, I'm starving! 1-2-3. Let's get out of here so I can get home and eat something!"
All while making mindless responses like "mm-hmm, we're pretty excited. Yep, nice to see you." and walking away thinking "yeah, must have been a case of mistaken identity."
It wasn't until we were outside the library, headed to the car and loaded down with books and dvds that the cogs finally slipped into place.
Little league! Her son was on Jonz' team two years ago! We DO know each other.
And now I have guilt. I don't remember her name and we only crossed paths for a couple months two years ago, but good heavens Lindsey! She is, and always was, genuinely nice to me and the boys. I couldn't take two seconds to slow down and remember or even say, "I'm sorry, I know I should know you, but I just can't place...oh! Baseball! It's so nice to see you, how are you?!" instead of my disingenuious and awkward "mm-hmms" and lack of eye contact?!?!?
Gaaaaaaaah. Fail, fail, fail.
Goal #7,693 for the Improvement of Lindsey- worry less about point a to point b and take time with the people around me, whether I know them (or remember them) or not.
So I'm sorry kind woman from baseball who in all likelihood doesn't read here. I do remember you, I do appreciate your smile and the time you take to talk to me. Your boys have grown so much I didn't reconize them, either, but they look wonderful. Thank you for being more observant and having more social grace than me. I hope that life is treating you well and that I can cross paths with you again.
Please tell me I'm not the only socially inept one out there!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Thursday
Looking back over the years, I can tell that my attitude has changed for the better.
Conciously working on gratitude has brought back and even improved the Pollyanna in me.
I like being Pollyanna.
But most people find Pollyanna annoying and immediately start rolling their eyes at the glad game.
Why?
What's so annoying about finding something to be glad about amidst the junk life throws at you?
I don't get it.
I often don't want to play the game myself, but I have never found it annoying when someone else does at those times.
And I find myself there in the past couple days. I would love to just let out a looooong rant and complain my little heart out.
The diatribe has been jumping on the back of my tongue, begging to come out.
But. It would serve no edifying purpose. At all.
And who would listen anyway?
I think I may write it out, though. Get the poison out and then have something physical to burn and enjoy a little destruction...Yep, there are some maniacal tendencies in me;)
For now, here's a little Pollyanna for me and you.
I'm glad it's September.
I'm glad ice cream exists.
I'm glad the sun is shining.
I'm glad my children get more self-sufficient every day (though it makes me juuuuuust a bit sad).
I'm glad my husband is handsome.
I'm glad Jesus heals as well as saves.
There we go:)
"Don't let's be gloomy." What are you thankful for today?
Conciously working on gratitude has brought back and even improved the Pollyanna in me.
I like being Pollyanna.
But most people find Pollyanna annoying and immediately start rolling their eyes at the glad game.
Why?
What's so annoying about finding something to be glad about amidst the junk life throws at you?
I don't get it.
I often don't want to play the game myself, but I have never found it annoying when someone else does at those times.
And I find myself there in the past couple days. I would love to just let out a looooong rant and complain my little heart out.
The diatribe has been jumping on the back of my tongue, begging to come out.
But. It would serve no edifying purpose. At all.
And who would listen anyway?
I think I may write it out, though. Get the poison out and then have something physical to burn and enjoy a little destruction...Yep, there are some maniacal tendencies in me;)
For now, here's a little Pollyanna for me and you.
I'm glad it's September.
I'm glad ice cream exists.
I'm glad the sun is shining.
I'm glad my children get more self-sufficient every day (though it makes me juuuuuust a bit sad).
I'm glad my husband is handsome.
I'm glad Jesus heals as well as saves.
There we go:)
"Don't let's be gloomy." What are you thankful for today?
If you don't know who Pollyanna is, what the glad game is, or where the quote
comes from...I hang my head in sorrow for your loss. You need to see this.
Skip to 7:29 if you don't want to watch the whole thing.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Gracias
Today I am thankful it's Thursday and not Monday, but especially that it's not Monday morning when I have to drag myself out of bed before anyone else does and realize I have five days of that to "look forward" to. Mornings and I are not friends. Strike that, waking up and getting out of bed before 8 am and I are not friends. I actually love mornings once I wake up.
Today I am thankful that Blogger changed it's photo upload...stuff/capabilities/process/whatever you call it. They probably did this awhile ago, but I haven't tried it in months because it's always been an insansely frustrating and involved process. I finally "caught up" on posting on the family blog. Now that it's easier to get pictures on my posts, I figure I'll start blogging regularly again...or at least more than once every two or three months:) Now if only Blogger could make uploading videos easier...(or even possible! I've tried three times to get a video on there in the past two days and it won't go past the "uploading...please wait" point.)
Today I am thankful for funny boys and listening to them cracking each other up in the next room.
Today I am thankful for curtains.
Today I am thankful for flip-flops, washing machines, sunshine, marshmallows, up-coming date nights and holiday weekends, lotion, and the anticipation of my favorite season of the year coming in the next month:):):)
What are you thankful for today??
Today I am thankful that Blogger changed it's photo upload...stuff/capabilities/process/whatever you call it. They probably did this awhile ago, but I haven't tried it in months because it's always been an insansely frustrating and involved process. I finally "caught up" on posting on the family blog. Now that it's easier to get pictures on my posts, I figure I'll start blogging regularly again...or at least more than once every two or three months:) Now if only Blogger could make uploading videos easier...(or even possible! I've tried three times to get a video on there in the past two days and it won't go past the "uploading...please wait" point.)
Today I am thankful for funny boys and listening to them cracking each other up in the next room.
Today I am thankful for curtains.
Today I am thankful for flip-flops, washing machines, sunshine, marshmallows, up-coming date nights and holiday weekends, lotion, and the anticipation of my favorite season of the year coming in the next month:):):)
What are you thankful for today??
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Proof vs. Doubt
Here's a post mostly for my own sake, but also for anyone curious about the kinds of things that go through my head.
I've been anxious about how many babies I'm carrying this time. My intuition has told me from the beginning that there's just one baby in there.
But there's been a nagging doubt in the back of my mind that I just can't seem to silence. And so I continue to look for proof to settle my nerves...and all proof has fallen short of being positive.
Proof #1
My heart tells me there's just one.
Doubt #1
I've had two in there before; it's not impossible for it to happen again.
Proof #2
One of the first things my doctor said to me at my first prenatal appointment was a quip about perhaps this time was twins again.
To which I replied, "I was kinda hoping you'd tell me there's just one in there."
To which my husband replied, "Actually we were hoping you would tell us it's triplets."
To which I replied with a swift punch on the shoulder.
Doctor rolled in his little sonogram machine and at the end of our little viewing he said, "Well, I've looked around in there long enough to be sure there's only one."
Doubt #2
Of course the reason he looked around so long was because someone had fiddled with the settings on this machine that 3 doctors share and he was having trouble getting a good picture...
I was only 8-9 weeks along at the time and the little baby was just a fuzzy peanut shaped blob on the screen. What if his poor picture missed another one...
Proof #3
Doctor only hears one heartbeat at regular check ups. And instead of expanding outward, my uterus hot shot right up into my abdomen where everything is nice and roomy; lots of space for a little one to float freely and easily.
Doubt #3
I'll feel movement at the top corner of my belly and then the opposite bottom corner in the next moment. And I've been showing since around 6 weeks.
Proof #4
19 week ultrasound shows one lovely little babe growing just right.
Doubt #4
I have a friend who is pregnant with twins and they didn't find out until after their 20 week ultrasound was completed-finished-over-done and the tech asked if they wanted to see a little more of the baby. They did, and suddenly the tech spots a twin!...
The proof is much stronger than the doubt. But just to give myself a little more help conquering the doubt, I decided to take a picture to compare pregnant belly sizes.
Whew! I for one feel better!
My tummy is obviously not as big as it was with twins, even though my poor stomach muscles that were unwillingly parted from one another have made it appear that I'm farther along than I actually am.
One baby.
My baby.
How sweet it is:)
P.S. That doesn't mean being pregnant with and having twins isn't sweet. Having survived the newborn twin stage once, this girl is looking forward to the experience of just one this time around.
I've been anxious about how many babies I'm carrying this time. My intuition has told me from the beginning that there's just one baby in there.
But there's been a nagging doubt in the back of my mind that I just can't seem to silence. And so I continue to look for proof to settle my nerves...and all proof has fallen short of being positive.
Proof #1
My heart tells me there's just one.
Doubt #1
I've had two in there before; it's not impossible for it to happen again.
Proof #2
One of the first things my doctor said to me at my first prenatal appointment was a quip about perhaps this time was twins again.
To which I replied, "I was kinda hoping you'd tell me there's just one in there."
To which my husband replied, "Actually we were hoping you would tell us it's triplets."
To which I replied with a swift punch on the shoulder.
Doctor rolled in his little sonogram machine and at the end of our little viewing he said, "Well, I've looked around in there long enough to be sure there's only one."
Doubt #2
Of course the reason he looked around so long was because someone had fiddled with the settings on this machine that 3 doctors share and he was having trouble getting a good picture...
I was only 8-9 weeks along at the time and the little baby was just a fuzzy peanut shaped blob on the screen. What if his poor picture missed another one...
Proof #3
Doctor only hears one heartbeat at regular check ups. And instead of expanding outward, my uterus hot shot right up into my abdomen where everything is nice and roomy; lots of space for a little one to float freely and easily.
Doubt #3
I'll feel movement at the top corner of my belly and then the opposite bottom corner in the next moment. And I've been showing since around 6 weeks.
Proof #4
19 week ultrasound shows one lovely little babe growing just right.
Doubt #4
I have a friend who is pregnant with twins and they didn't find out until after their 20 week ultrasound was completed-finished-over-done and the tech asked if they wanted to see a little more of the baby. They did, and suddenly the tech spots a twin!...
The proof is much stronger than the doubt. But just to give myself a little more help conquering the doubt, I decided to take a picture to compare pregnant belly sizes.
My tummy is obviously not as big as it was with twins, even though my poor stomach muscles that were unwillingly parted from one another have made it appear that I'm farther along than I actually am.
One baby.
My baby.
How sweet it is:)
P.S. That doesn't mean being pregnant with and having twins isn't sweet. Having survived the newborn twin stage once, this girl is looking forward to the experience of just one this time around.
Thurrrrrrrsday
Thursday has come again.
All too fast.
I'm thankful Jonz is in school this year. Among other blessings, it's making the weeks of pregnancy seem to go by fairly quickly. Still, there are moments when I miss my son and the little boy he once was.
They really do grow up fast.
Which brings me to my topic for Thankful Thursday.
My boys have colds. Not too long ago, colds were a death sentence for routine around here. It meant hours and hours spent on the couch or rocking chair (not that I didn't enjoy the snuggles, but the rest of life went to pot on those days/weeks), it meant sleepless nights for everyone, and it meant the inevitable ear infection(s) and/or sinus infection, trips to Urgentcare then the pharmacy (nooooooooo!) with cranky kids in car seats. It meant my heart breaking at every sniffle, every cough, every whimper, every toss and turn of sick and uncomfortable babies or toddlers trying to sleep, etc. It meant asthma woes. Nebulizers, inhalers, saline, and oh the coughing morning, midday, evening, and allllllll throught the night.
Now? A cold is just a cold. The couch, a blanket, and a movie is more desirable that cuddles with Mom (sad.). They snore like old men at night, but they sleep pretty well for having stuffed sinuses. I won't say anything about ear or sinus infections for fear of inciting the humorous ways of the virus gods. I still hate the symphony of sniffs and coughs, but as it doesn't make my boys as miserable as it used to I'm much less bothered by it. And we're finally to a point where, for now, the asthma is fairly well controlled.
Colds are much less debilitating with these growing guys. And for that I am extremely grateful.
Now. If only I could get them to blow their noses instead of sniffing...
What are you thankful for today?
All too fast.
I'm thankful Jonz is in school this year. Among other blessings, it's making the weeks of pregnancy seem to go by fairly quickly. Still, there are moments when I miss my son and the little boy he once was.
They really do grow up fast.
Which brings me to my topic for Thankful Thursday.
My boys have colds. Not too long ago, colds were a death sentence for routine around here. It meant hours and hours spent on the couch or rocking chair (not that I didn't enjoy the snuggles, but the rest of life went to pot on those days/weeks), it meant sleepless nights for everyone, and it meant the inevitable ear infection(s) and/or sinus infection, trips to Urgentcare then the pharmacy (nooooooooo!) with cranky kids in car seats. It meant my heart breaking at every sniffle, every cough, every whimper, every toss and turn of sick and uncomfortable babies or toddlers trying to sleep, etc. It meant asthma woes. Nebulizers, inhalers, saline, and oh the coughing morning, midday, evening, and allllllll throught the night.
Now? A cold is just a cold. The couch, a blanket, and a movie is more desirable that cuddles with Mom (sad.). They snore like old men at night, but they sleep pretty well for having stuffed sinuses. I won't say anything about ear or sinus infections for fear of inciting the humorous ways of the virus gods. I still hate the symphony of sniffs and coughs, but as it doesn't make my boys as miserable as it used to I'm much less bothered by it. And we're finally to a point where, for now, the asthma is fairly well controlled.
Colds are much less debilitating with these growing guys. And for that I am extremely grateful.
Now. If only I could get them to blow their noses instead of sniffing...
What are you thankful for today?
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
What I wish I'd known as a first time mom
Alternately titled: What I hope to remember this time around.
There will be a moment (and similar ones to follow) when you look at your newborn and are suddenly struck with the magnitude of your new, massive, overwhelming, and incomprehensible responsibility. It will feel like, "oh...no...What have I done?..."
This does not mean you don't love your baby, nor that you wouldn't do anything for him. It is merely a manifestation of the massive change in your life and the beginning of you truly understanding your new life as a mother to this child. Way to be realistic!:)
Breastfeeding does not come naturally. And it hurts. And you'll feel like you need ten hands.
Keep going. Keep trying new techniques, positions, pillows, etc. You'll get used to it. Your baby will get used to it. Your body will get used to it. Read a good book about it before you're in the trenches of it. And trust your intuition- not the impatient and haughty lactation consultant.
Nurses, ob/gyns, pediatricians, anesthesiologists, specialists, etc. all have more experience in this than you do. However, they are not you and they are not the mother of your child.
Speak up. Politely gets more results, but speak up. You are in charge, not them. Ask for explanation on everything you aren't convinced about. Be a squeaky wheel. Don't be afraid of the hassle of switching doctors. There are plenty of good and kind professionals out there; it may be hard to find them, but very worth the effort.
There is a whole new level of exhaustion that you have not experienced yet, but will become quite familiar with.
20 minute chunks of sleep a few times a night is normal. Your body learns to function and eventually you'll trick yourself into thinking you're not that tired...but don't drive for a couple weeks and don't be shocked when you find you put your lost brush under the kitchen sink.
Cliche as it sounds, there will be times when you can't recognize yourself at all and wonder where and when the real you got lost.
You're still there. Don't worry:) You're just temporarily drowned in the exhaustion. And hey, you can't come out of this without changing. This little soul will teach you many a life-changing lesson.
Baby blues. You've heard about them. Don't be surprised when they show up.
I'd heard about it, read about it, and the nurses in the hospital even talked to me about it before I took my baby home. But I still didn't recognize that I was experiencing it until my firstborn's six week pediatrician check up when the doctor asked me, "So how are the baby blues treating you?" Oh THAT'S what that was! I thought I was just crazy.
You're not crazy. You're just riding the crazy hormonal roller coaster. It will let you off eventually!
Your baby will cry. And though you try everything you can think of- sometimes, the crying will not stop. That moment when you realize you don't have a magic motherly touch to console your child is rough.
This doesn't mean he doesn't love you or that you're a horrible mother. Be patient. They may find the energy to cry for hours on end, but it won't last forever. Promise.
There's a lot of hyped up, but unnecessary baby items that you'll find on lists of must-haves for your baby and nursery.
Don't "buy" into it. Aha! Aha! What wit;)
You've heard about the instant bond and intense love felt when a mother first holds her new baby...might not happen for you.
I haven't bonded instantly with my children. On some level, I loved them dearly. I ached for their pain and confusion when they cried. I longed to provide comfort for them. But I couldn't say 'I love you' for a week or so and I felt like I was looking at a stranger when I looked in their eyes. I found that unnerving the first time around. What kind of mother was I if I couldn't say 'I love you' to my baby?!?! Once again, don't worry if this happens- you will bond. Seven plus years into motherhood and my boys are my heart and soul and it feels like it's always been this way.
Preeclampsia can happen after you've given birth. And it hurts.
There will likely be a handful of medical suprises. Don't let doctors or nurses get away with a, "don't worry this happens all the time." Keep asking questions until you understand. And get your husband in on as many of these conversations as possible since you may be quite out of it and will need help remembering what your supposed to do and why.
Your baby will grow up way too fast. Try to enjoy the moments of each stage, even though there's a lot you'd rather speed through.
I remember looking at my two week old one morning and being shocked as I realized how changed he was from when he was first home. And I was even more shocked at how sad I was about having a stage behind us already. It can be very hard to get used to each other and even harder to remember you'll miss this when you're out of bed at 3 am trying to feed a squirmy baby who can't figure out how to latch on right and is making nerve-grating noises that make you want to scream right back. But don't let those times keep you from remembering to enjoy the perfect softness of your baby, their fuzzy face, their cute noises, their laughs (yes they laugh and have real smiles before six weeks that are not caused by gas! My four day old laughed from the gut in his sleep and I'll cherish that moment forever even though at the time it freaked me out because I'd been asleep too and holding him on the couch and about dropped him when he startled me awake with that laugh:)), their sleepy eyes, their floppy body, and general amazingness.
That's all I've got to say about that.
And you? What do you think should be added to the list?
There will be a moment (and similar ones to follow) when you look at your newborn and are suddenly struck with the magnitude of your new, massive, overwhelming, and incomprehensible responsibility. It will feel like, "oh...no...What have I done?..."
This does not mean you don't love your baby, nor that you wouldn't do anything for him. It is merely a manifestation of the massive change in your life and the beginning of you truly understanding your new life as a mother to this child. Way to be realistic!:)
*also, your normally-stable-husband will probably have this moment, too.
Don't let this freak you out. You guys can do this!
Breastfeeding does not come naturally. And it hurts. And you'll feel like you need ten hands.
Keep going. Keep trying new techniques, positions, pillows, etc. You'll get used to it. Your baby will get used to it. Your body will get used to it. Read a good book about it before you're in the trenches of it. And trust your intuition- not the impatient and haughty lactation consultant.
Nurses, ob/gyns, pediatricians, anesthesiologists, specialists, etc. all have more experience in this than you do. However, they are not you and they are not the mother of your child.
Speak up. Politely gets more results, but speak up. You are in charge, not them. Ask for explanation on everything you aren't convinced about. Be a squeaky wheel. Don't be afraid of the hassle of switching doctors. There are plenty of good and kind professionals out there; it may be hard to find them, but very worth the effort.
There is a whole new level of exhaustion that you have not experienced yet, but will become quite familiar with.
20 minute chunks of sleep a few times a night is normal. Your body learns to function and eventually you'll trick yourself into thinking you're not that tired...but don't drive for a couple weeks and don't be shocked when you find you put your lost brush under the kitchen sink.
Cliche as it sounds, there will be times when you can't recognize yourself at all and wonder where and when the real you got lost.
You're still there. Don't worry:) You're just temporarily drowned in the exhaustion. And hey, you can't come out of this without changing. This little soul will teach you many a life-changing lesson.
Baby blues. You've heard about them. Don't be surprised when they show up.
I'd heard about it, read about it, and the nurses in the hospital even talked to me about it before I took my baby home. But I still didn't recognize that I was experiencing it until my firstborn's six week pediatrician check up when the doctor asked me, "So how are the baby blues treating you?" Oh THAT'S what that was! I thought I was just crazy.
You're not crazy. You're just riding the crazy hormonal roller coaster. It will let you off eventually!
Your baby will cry. And though you try everything you can think of- sometimes, the crying will not stop. That moment when you realize you don't have a magic motherly touch to console your child is rough.
This doesn't mean he doesn't love you or that you're a horrible mother. Be patient. They may find the energy to cry for hours on end, but it won't last forever. Promise.
There's a lot of hyped up, but unnecessary baby items that you'll find on lists of must-haves for your baby and nursery.
Don't "buy" into it. Aha! Aha! What wit;)
You've heard about the instant bond and intense love felt when a mother first holds her new baby...might not happen for you.
I haven't bonded instantly with my children. On some level, I loved them dearly. I ached for their pain and confusion when they cried. I longed to provide comfort for them. But I couldn't say 'I love you' for a week or so and I felt like I was looking at a stranger when I looked in their eyes. I found that unnerving the first time around. What kind of mother was I if I couldn't say 'I love you' to my baby?!?! Once again, don't worry if this happens- you will bond. Seven plus years into motherhood and my boys are my heart and soul and it feels like it's always been this way.
Preeclampsia can happen after you've given birth. And it hurts.
There will likely be a handful of medical suprises. Don't let doctors or nurses get away with a, "don't worry this happens all the time." Keep asking questions until you understand. And get your husband in on as many of these conversations as possible since you may be quite out of it and will need help remembering what your supposed to do and why.
Your baby will grow up way too fast. Try to enjoy the moments of each stage, even though there's a lot you'd rather speed through.
I remember looking at my two week old one morning and being shocked as I realized how changed he was from when he was first home. And I was even more shocked at how sad I was about having a stage behind us already. It can be very hard to get used to each other and even harder to remember you'll miss this when you're out of bed at 3 am trying to feed a squirmy baby who can't figure out how to latch on right and is making nerve-grating noises that make you want to scream right back. But don't let those times keep you from remembering to enjoy the perfect softness of your baby, their fuzzy face, their cute noises, their laughs (yes they laugh and have real smiles before six weeks that are not caused by gas! My four day old laughed from the gut in his sleep and I'll cherish that moment forever even though at the time it freaked me out because I'd been asleep too and holding him on the couch and about dropped him when he startled me awake with that laugh:)), their sleepy eyes, their floppy body, and general amazingness.
That's all I've got to say about that.
And you? What do you think should be added to the list?
Thursday, August 16, 2012
I'm thankful
Really I am.
But right now, all I can think about is sleep.
I'm tired.
I wish it was bedtime.
Not because my boys are pushing for it, but because I want to go to bed without fear of someone getting hurt because mom wasn't around to keep everyone safe.
I'm tiiiiiiiired!
And so, I'm thankful for beds, pillows, ceiling fans, bedtime in threeish hours, that Bret doesn't have to work late, and that my boys sleep through the night more often than not.
What are you thankful for today?
But right now, all I can think about is sleep.
I'm tired.
I wish it was bedtime.
Not because my boys are pushing for it, but because I want to go to bed without fear of someone getting hurt because mom wasn't around to keep everyone safe.
I'm tiiiiiiiired!
And so, I'm thankful for beds, pillows, ceiling fans, bedtime in threeish hours, that Bret doesn't have to work late, and that my boys sleep through the night more often than not.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Gratitude
Few things give me a big ol' surge of gratitude like seeing a bunch of blankety-blank in the world.
Speeding, weaving driver coming all too close to hitting my car? Boy am I thankful I've never been slammed into; especially with my kids in he car.
Blazingly hot summer day? Ahhhhhhhh, air conditioning.
Someone is setting off fireworks loud enough and strong enough to shake my windows at 11 pm? I am so lucky I don't live in a war zone.
Hearing/reading a story of husbands and wives in the range from not helping each other at all to abuse? I loooooooooooooooooooove my husband!!!!!
My neighborhood smells like marijuana? I'm so glad I've never lived with any drug addicts or alcoholics.
Stupidity that makes me want to hit my head against a wall? I am beyond thankful that I don't have to deal with stupidity on a regular basis.
I live such an idyllic life and I am thankful for it.
AND! I got to meet my four-almost-five month old niece on Monday. Sweet as can be!
There was a moment involved in that night, too. The boys and I were the last ones to arrive and met Bret there from work. I walked in and he was holding her and chatting with my brother. The sweetness and the hotness of such a sight 'bout did me in:) I am very excited to be carrying our baby and very much looking forward to seeing my amazing husband holding our own little one again.
What are you thankful for today?
Speeding, weaving driver coming all too close to hitting my car? Boy am I thankful I've never been slammed into; especially with my kids in he car.
Blazingly hot summer day? Ahhhhhhhh, air conditioning.
Someone is setting off fireworks loud enough and strong enough to shake my windows at 11 pm? I am so lucky I don't live in a war zone.
Hearing/reading a story of husbands and wives in the range from not helping each other at all to abuse? I loooooooooooooooooooove my husband!!!!!
My neighborhood smells like marijuana? I'm so glad I've never lived with any drug addicts or alcoholics.
Stupidity that makes me want to hit my head against a wall? I am beyond thankful that I don't have to deal with stupidity on a regular basis.
I live such an idyllic life and I am thankful for it.
AND! I got to meet my four-almost-five month old niece on Monday. Sweet as can be!
There was a moment involved in that night, too. The boys and I were the last ones to arrive and met Bret there from work. I walked in and he was holding her and chatting with my brother. The sweetness and the hotness of such a sight 'bout did me in:) I am very excited to be carrying our baby and very much looking forward to seeing my amazing husband holding our own little one again.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Story time
Today I am thankful to finally tell a bit of a story.
A story that spans more than four years.
It started when Al and Goose were just a few days old. I remember sitting in the rocking chair and telling God, "That's it. I'm done. I'm never doing this again. I can't do it now, no way I'm going to do it again. I don't care what you say, we are never having any more babies."
In the coming months as I matured, survived, learned, and felt stronger, I repented of such thoughts. And though terrified of the idea of living through another pregnancy-cesarean-newborn season, I was willing to...but only if we received a divine manifestation from heaven that that is what our family was supposed to do. Like, angelic visits level of manifestation (okay, not that big; but something definitely stronger than the previous times).
My doctor recommended waiting "two or three years" before trying to get pregnant again to give my uterus time to heal from carrying twins and having a c-section. I was more than willing and when two years rolled around I was determined that three was better and I'd still wait for unsollicited direction from God. Three years came and went and I began to wonder if I was being selfish and untrusting. I waffled for a few months before finally asking Heavenly Father for the courage to ask what the future was for our family. Because honestly, I didn't want to hear either answer. I was scared at the prospect of having more children and I was sad about the possibility that we were done.
It took a long time to build up the courage to ask that question, but as the months went by with no answer I became frustrated. I just needed to know one way or the other.
For some reason, we weren't ready for an answer. It wasn't until we took a leap of faith and turned down a job offer that Bret received the guidance we were rarely asking for anymore.
Bret. The one who said he'd never ever be ready again and just to tell him when I had an answer. That guy. The answer came to him. (I'm not jealous...;))
Bret had called me earlier in the day to tell me that the job had indeed been offered and he had turned it down like we'd concluded to the previous evening. It wasn't easy, but I was proud of him.
I was super confused when he called me that afternoon and told me with a bit of surprise in his voice that we needed to go to the temple. That night. I was thinking that he'd gotten a call back asking him to reconsider a better offer and now he was unsure of the answer he'd gotten the night before. As I stuttered questions trying to clarify what was going on he shocked the heck outta me by saying he'd been weight lifting on his lunch break when he'd been prompted that it was time for us to move forward.
That's when I had to sit down.
For having prayed for an answer for a long time, we were both pretty shocked to be faced with an answer.
A few small miracles led to us being able to get to the temple that night. It was a beautiful experience that I'm keeping close to the heart.
That was back in the beginning of February of this year. It's now the beginning of August. And here's where we are now:
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A story that spans more than four years.
It started when Al and Goose were just a few days old. I remember sitting in the rocking chair and telling God, "That's it. I'm done. I'm never doing this again. I can't do it now, no way I'm going to do it again. I don't care what you say, we are never having any more babies."
In the coming months as I matured, survived, learned, and felt stronger, I repented of such thoughts. And though terrified of the idea of living through another pregnancy-cesarean-newborn season, I was willing to...but only if we received a divine manifestation from heaven that that is what our family was supposed to do. Like, angelic visits level of manifestation (okay, not that big; but something definitely stronger than the previous times).
My doctor recommended waiting "two or three years" before trying to get pregnant again to give my uterus time to heal from carrying twins and having a c-section. I was more than willing and when two years rolled around I was determined that three was better and I'd still wait for unsollicited direction from God. Three years came and went and I began to wonder if I was being selfish and untrusting. I waffled for a few months before finally asking Heavenly Father for the courage to ask what the future was for our family. Because honestly, I didn't want to hear either answer. I was scared at the prospect of having more children and I was sad about the possibility that we were done.
It took a long time to build up the courage to ask that question, but as the months went by with no answer I became frustrated. I just needed to know one way or the other.
For some reason, we weren't ready for an answer. It wasn't until we took a leap of faith and turned down a job offer that Bret received the guidance we were rarely asking for anymore.
Bret. The one who said he'd never ever be ready again and just to tell him when I had an answer. That guy. The answer came to him. (I'm not jealous...;))
Bret had called me earlier in the day to tell me that the job had indeed been offered and he had turned it down like we'd concluded to the previous evening. It wasn't easy, but I was proud of him.
I was super confused when he called me that afternoon and told me with a bit of surprise in his voice that we needed to go to the temple. That night. I was thinking that he'd gotten a call back asking him to reconsider a better offer and now he was unsure of the answer he'd gotten the night before. As I stuttered questions trying to clarify what was going on he shocked the heck outta me by saying he'd been weight lifting on his lunch break when he'd been prompted that it was time for us to move forward.
That's when I had to sit down.
For having prayed for an answer for a long time, we were both pretty shocked to be faced with an answer.
A few small miracles led to us being able to get to the temple that night. It was a beautiful experience that I'm keeping close to the heart.
That was back in the beginning of February of this year. It's now the beginning of August. And here's where we are now:
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"Yes sir, that's my baby."
Half way there to meeting the newest member of our family:)
There's much more I want to share, but I'll end this mammoth post by saying I'm thankful for life, for forgiveness, for temples, for faith, for my boys, for this new baby, for family, for prayer, for a patient Father in heaven, and for my wonderful husband.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Answered prayers
Jonz started school this week.
This entire homeschool-to-public-school adventure has been filled with guidance, tender mercies, small miracles, and confirmation.
We have been led to a path we weren't even really considering, to a specific school, and to a specific teacher. The right way just set itself in front of us with large signs that read, "this way!" Though I admit...I'm not the best sign reader;) The only hiccup came in selecting a track assignment. Bret and I discussed and looked at the calendar and picked what we thought was best. Later though, it became clear to me that that wasn't the place for Jonzy. After stewing over it for a couple weeks, I submitted a track change request and wouldn't you know it- they were able to make the change for us.
The whole process from homeschool to track change happened in fairly steady fashion from the beginning of April up until the middle of June.
Then, all there was to do was get him outfitted and wait for school to actually start.
As the weeks went on and school got closer, I started to question whether this was really what we were supposed to do. Perhaps I'd misunderstood the promptings...I got help over these weeks: reminders of all that happened on the path to getting him into school, peace when I asked-yet again-if we were on the right path, etc. But Doubt and I are old pals and I have a hard time shutting him up. And then Jonz started to show his doubts too. Excitement gave way to, "Mommy, I can't go to school because I'll miss you all day." Or, "...because I won't make any friends," or, "...because I want to watch a movie," etc. etc. Mostly I understood this was just him being nervous and once he received more explanation and got used to this routine that he'd be fine. But Doubt snuck in thoughts of, "maaaaaaaybe we're not supposed to do this..."
And so I prayed.
The few times that despair threatened to take over at the prospect of sending my sweet and innocent boy out into the world with all its wolves, I prayed for peace and more confirmation that he was supposed to be going to school and that he would be protected (physically and spiritually). For the most part, that peace has stayed with me since April. It was just the times like after a family home evening lesson about pornography that doubt started to gain strength over the peace and extra prayer was needed to bring it back.
Despite all the inspirations and events that led up to the first day of school, I knew I needed something more in the week preceding.
You know me- I cry. Strike that. I blubber. It's my physical response to emotion, hormones, and seemingly random things as well.
I did not want to be a sobbing mess. I knew it would not be good for Jonz. He needed to see a confident and happy mom as he stepped off into the great unknown. And as I pondered this fear of scaring my son with my tears a thought occured to me. Two birds, one stone.
I started praying for something very specific. I prayed that I would be blessed with peace and strength on that first day of school. And that that would not only be felt, but also be manifested in a lack of tears. As someone who cries even when at peace, I knew that if I was able to make it through this situation without tears (even though all physical and emotional factors were combined against me) that it would only be because of divine intervention.
And so I asked that He please intervene and confirm to me that we were doing precisely what we are supposed to by blessing me with peace and the strength to not cry.
I'm here to tell you, He answered that prayer and then some...and then some more.
Not only did I not cry at all about this since that first prayer- I didn't cry when I hugged my firstborn good-bye that morning. I didn't cry when I saw how nervous and flustered Jonz was trying to figure out whether to follow the line of kids or stay with his teacher (I caught his eye and gave him a smile and thumbs up. Then he seemed to remember that we'd talked about asking his teacher what to do if he ever didn't understand what was going on because he walked right up to her and got directions.). I didn't cry when I found after being in the office that the school was outside for an assembly and I was blessed to see my boy dancing to the music while in line and realized God gave me the opportunity to see that Jonz was just fine and already comfortable in this new situation. I didn't cry when I drove away from the school. I didn't cry when Al suddenly realized what was going on and said, "Mom! Jonzy's not in our car!" I didn't cry when I fleetingly lamented twice during the day that he wasn't under my watchful care but some strangers' instead. I didn't cry!
Seriously, folks! I didn't cry all day long. Me! The crier. Lindsey did not shed a single tear. No constricted throat, no puffy eyes, no blotchy face, nooooooo tears.
I wish I could express to you how amazing this actually is. But honestly, I don't think anyone but me can truly comprehend how incredible of a feat this is. Perhaps those close to me understand, but even they don't know how often I battle the salty discharge. And even beyond the lack of tears, I felt right all day. This is right. Jonz is on the path that will suit him best. Right, peace, right. Even my nagging headaches and back pain were gone all day! For our family, for now: This. Is. Right.
And as I see this post has gotten interminably long, I'll end it for you.
I'm thankful for all the guidance and blessings received as my family travels this new road. I am thankful for answered prayers. I'm thankful for a Father in heaven who answered my prayers in such a bountiful, clear, and intensely personal way. I'm thankful He is ever patient with my weakness. I'm thankful for a strong, good, and courageous seven year old that I am blessed to call my son.
What are you thankful for today?
This entire homeschool-to-public-school adventure has been filled with guidance, tender mercies, small miracles, and confirmation.
We have been led to a path we weren't even really considering, to a specific school, and to a specific teacher. The right way just set itself in front of us with large signs that read, "this way!" Though I admit...I'm not the best sign reader;) The only hiccup came in selecting a track assignment. Bret and I discussed and looked at the calendar and picked what we thought was best. Later though, it became clear to me that that wasn't the place for Jonzy. After stewing over it for a couple weeks, I submitted a track change request and wouldn't you know it- they were able to make the change for us.
The whole process from homeschool to track change happened in fairly steady fashion from the beginning of April up until the middle of June.
Then, all there was to do was get him outfitted and wait for school to actually start.
As the weeks went on and school got closer, I started to question whether this was really what we were supposed to do. Perhaps I'd misunderstood the promptings...I got help over these weeks: reminders of all that happened on the path to getting him into school, peace when I asked-yet again-if we were on the right path, etc. But Doubt and I are old pals and I have a hard time shutting him up. And then Jonz started to show his doubts too. Excitement gave way to, "Mommy, I can't go to school because I'll miss you all day." Or, "...because I won't make any friends," or, "...because I want to watch a movie," etc. etc. Mostly I understood this was just him being nervous and once he received more explanation and got used to this routine that he'd be fine. But Doubt snuck in thoughts of, "maaaaaaaybe we're not supposed to do this..."
And so I prayed.
The few times that despair threatened to take over at the prospect of sending my sweet and innocent boy out into the world with all its wolves, I prayed for peace and more confirmation that he was supposed to be going to school and that he would be protected (physically and spiritually). For the most part, that peace has stayed with me since April. It was just the times like after a family home evening lesson about pornography that doubt started to gain strength over the peace and extra prayer was needed to bring it back.
Despite all the inspirations and events that led up to the first day of school, I knew I needed something more in the week preceding.
You know me- I cry. Strike that. I blubber. It's my physical response to emotion, hormones, and seemingly random things as well.
I did not want to be a sobbing mess. I knew it would not be good for Jonz. He needed to see a confident and happy mom as he stepped off into the great unknown. And as I pondered this fear of scaring my son with my tears a thought occured to me. Two birds, one stone.
I started praying for something very specific. I prayed that I would be blessed with peace and strength on that first day of school. And that that would not only be felt, but also be manifested in a lack of tears. As someone who cries even when at peace, I knew that if I was able to make it through this situation without tears (even though all physical and emotional factors were combined against me) that it would only be because of divine intervention.
And so I asked that He please intervene and confirm to me that we were doing precisely what we are supposed to by blessing me with peace and the strength to not cry.
I'm here to tell you, He answered that prayer and then some...and then some more.
Not only did I not cry at all about this since that first prayer- I didn't cry when I hugged my firstborn good-bye that morning. I didn't cry when I saw how nervous and flustered Jonz was trying to figure out whether to follow the line of kids or stay with his teacher (I caught his eye and gave him a smile and thumbs up. Then he seemed to remember that we'd talked about asking his teacher what to do if he ever didn't understand what was going on because he walked right up to her and got directions.). I didn't cry when I found after being in the office that the school was outside for an assembly and I was blessed to see my boy dancing to the music while in line and realized God gave me the opportunity to see that Jonz was just fine and already comfortable in this new situation. I didn't cry when I drove away from the school. I didn't cry when Al suddenly realized what was going on and said, "Mom! Jonzy's not in our car!" I didn't cry when I fleetingly lamented twice during the day that he wasn't under my watchful care but some strangers' instead. I didn't cry!
Seriously, folks! I didn't cry all day long. Me! The crier. Lindsey did not shed a single tear. No constricted throat, no puffy eyes, no blotchy face, nooooooo tears.
I wish I could express to you how amazing this actually is. But honestly, I don't think anyone but me can truly comprehend how incredible of a feat this is. Perhaps those close to me understand, but even they don't know how often I battle the salty discharge. And even beyond the lack of tears, I felt right all day. This is right. Jonz is on the path that will suit him best. Right, peace, right. Even my nagging headaches and back pain were gone all day! For our family, for now: This. Is. Right.
And as I see this post has gotten interminably long, I'll end it for you.
I'm thankful for all the guidance and blessings received as my family travels this new road. I am thankful for answered prayers. I'm thankful for a Father in heaven who answered my prayers in such a bountiful, clear, and intensely personal way. I'm thankful He is ever patient with my weakness. I'm thankful for a strong, good, and courageous seven year old that I am blessed to call my son.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, July 19, 2012
It's Thursday
Here we are at Thursday.
Thursday in the midst of a loooooooooong week.
Or better yet, Thursday in the midst of a very short week of very loooooooong days.
It's a good week. Lots of lovely things have happened this week. I'm enjoying it.
But today: today this week is catching up with me. I. Am. Tired.
And that is reflected in what I am grateful for today.
Pillows.
Pajamas.
Hot afternoons with boys easily persuaded to crash on the couch with a movie while I collapse for a bit.
Air conditioning.
Ceiling fans.
Planned early dinners and early bedtimes.
And lots and lots of ice water.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday in the midst of a loooooooooong week.
Or better yet, Thursday in the midst of a very short week of very loooooooong days.
It's a good week. Lots of lovely things have happened this week. I'm enjoying it.
But today: today this week is catching up with me. I. Am. Tired.
And that is reflected in what I am grateful for today.
Pillows.
Pajamas.
Hot afternoons with boys easily persuaded to crash on the couch with a movie while I collapse for a bit.
Air conditioning.
Ceiling fans.
Planned early dinners and early bedtimes.
And lots and lots of ice water.
What are you thankful for today?
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Mixed emotions
My ten year high school reunion is happening next week.
I have never planned on going. Even when I graduated, I figured it wouldn't be high on my priority list to ever make the effort of attending a reunion. Now that the first one is actually here, there are many reasons I'm not going:
Not gonna lie though, I'm a bit bummed.
Why?
Well, because nothing says, "You were so easily forgotten and no one cares," like not getting invited to your own class reunion.
Or to be more clear- nothing says, "you were so easily forgotten and no one cares," like not getting invited to your own class reunion when your graduating class was only 142, facebook makes it easy to find everyone these days, and people from the classes a year ahead and behind ours are being invited.
It's this strange mix of emotions. Most of me is feeling, "eh, whatevs." But a bit of me is feeling, "ouch."
High school really does never end;)
I have never planned on going. Even when I graduated, I figured it wouldn't be high on my priority list to ever make the effort of attending a reunion. Now that the first one is actually here, there are many reasons I'm not going:
- I don't live in the same state anymore.
- I have three children and travelling with or without them is way too complicated to undertake for anything less than visiting family/weddings/funerals/etc.
- I'd rather spend money on doing something fun with my family here instead of getting over there.
- What I've chosen to do with my life is not popular and I don't want to go to the expense and hassle to get there only to have it be a night full of fake smiles and judgement or pity.
- Because of facebook, I know the generals about many classmates and my curiosity is satisfied with those simple details.
- A friend got married in June which provided opportunity to visit my home state and gathered together 95% of the people I would want to see at a reunion anyway.
Not gonna lie though, I'm a bit bummed.
Why?
Well, because nothing says, "You were so easily forgotten and no one cares," like not getting invited to your own class reunion.
Or to be more clear- nothing says, "you were so easily forgotten and no one cares," like not getting invited to your own class reunion when your graduating class was only 142, facebook makes it easy to find everyone these days, and people from the classes a year ahead and behind ours are being invited.
It's this strange mix of emotions. Most of me is feeling, "eh, whatevs." But a bit of me is feeling, "ouch."
High school really does never end;)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Be grateful...
This past Sunday I went to retrieve my boys from Primary only to hear an incredibly ugly noise coming from the classroom Al and Goose are in...fake wailing at it's finest:/
The source- my son:/
The cause- Goose was completely at ends, utterly sorrowful, and on the edge of death because...he got one piece of licorice instead of the two he wanted:/
The result- I got his licorice and he went home with Dad and straight to bed while I tied up a few responsibilities at church. Their teacher caught me as I left because in his despair Goose had left his drawing in the classroom. I thanked her (for the paper and for having to deal with my son's poor behavior), we chatted, and then I walked home with Al and Jonz. As I set down all my stuff at home I noticed what was written on Goose's paper. "I am grateful for..." followed by a drawing of robots. I then realized that my son had participated in the class lesson on gratitude and promptly threw a fit at the end because he only got one piece of licorice:/
Can you hear my head hitting the wall in failure?
I don't know how to deal with this. My children feel entitled. Why? I don't know! Sort of. I know they don't get anything by whining and they often get exactly the opposite of what they want when they whine. I know that the more they pester me for something, the less I actually give it to them. Gifts are only given on birthdays and holidays. But I also know that we live in very priviliged times and circumstances. We have easy access to countless wonderful things. Part of me wants to cut out any and all treats, play dates, movies, delicious food, fun outings, and anything that my children enjoy on a regular basis for the next three months. Maybe then they'd finally understand the concept of gratitude that I keep talking about...there's got to be a less dramatic way of doing this, but not much less because they aren't anywhere near understanding in current conditions.
And so today I've decided that I'm grateful for this situation. I am grateful to have children in a day and age when luxuries come easily. I am grateful for what we can give them. I am grateful that I learned from my parents that I can't expect to get what I want just because I want it. That there's work and cost and consequence to consider before most blessings are achieved and/or granted. I am grateful for this challenge to teach them gratitude and that I have these future men under my care who will (if I can manage, which I often doubt...) be among the few that grow up knowing that no one owes them anything.
Wish me success, please. And sanity:)
In other, successful news- my eldest called up to me from the back of the van on the way home tonight, "Mom, when it's your birthday I'm going to do the dishes and laundry so you don't have to. Cuz it's your birthday." Then he asked me how to spell "birthday" and "here" and tried to sneak what I now suspect is my birthday card past me into the house. Then he wished me "good sleep and sweet dreams" after I turned out the lights at bedtime.
They can drive me half crazy with how much I teach that goes in one ear and out the other. But every once in a while there's a gem like this that reminds me that persistence is working, that they'll turn out great, and that my children are amazing souls.
I sure love my boys:)
What are you thankful for today?
P.S. I know the :/ symbol technically means "confused," but I use it to illustrate my slightly tilted head, raised eyebrow, and one-side-of-my-mouth-pulled-back look...You know, the "are you kidding me?" look, the "that is utterly ridiculous" look, the "seriously, folks?" look...maybe I'll take a picture to illustrate one of these days:)
The source- my son:/
The cause- Goose was completely at ends, utterly sorrowful, and on the edge of death because...he got one piece of licorice instead of the two he wanted:/
The result- I got his licorice and he went home with Dad and straight to bed while I tied up a few responsibilities at church. Their teacher caught me as I left because in his despair Goose had left his drawing in the classroom. I thanked her (for the paper and for having to deal with my son's poor behavior), we chatted, and then I walked home with Al and Jonz. As I set down all my stuff at home I noticed what was written on Goose's paper. "I am grateful for..." followed by a drawing of robots. I then realized that my son had participated in the class lesson on gratitude and promptly threw a fit at the end because he only got one piece of licorice:/
Can you hear my head hitting the wall in failure?
I don't know how to deal with this. My children feel entitled. Why? I don't know! Sort of. I know they don't get anything by whining and they often get exactly the opposite of what they want when they whine. I know that the more they pester me for something, the less I actually give it to them. Gifts are only given on birthdays and holidays. But I also know that we live in very priviliged times and circumstances. We have easy access to countless wonderful things. Part of me wants to cut out any and all treats, play dates, movies, delicious food, fun outings, and anything that my children enjoy on a regular basis for the next three months. Maybe then they'd finally understand the concept of gratitude that I keep talking about...there's got to be a less dramatic way of doing this, but not much less because they aren't anywhere near understanding in current conditions.
And so today I've decided that I'm grateful for this situation. I am grateful to have children in a day and age when luxuries come easily. I am grateful for what we can give them. I am grateful that I learned from my parents that I can't expect to get what I want just because I want it. That there's work and cost and consequence to consider before most blessings are achieved and/or granted. I am grateful for this challenge to teach them gratitude and that I have these future men under my care who will (if I can manage, which I often doubt...) be among the few that grow up knowing that no one owes them anything.
Wish me success, please. And sanity:)
In other, successful news- my eldest called up to me from the back of the van on the way home tonight, "Mom, when it's your birthday I'm going to do the dishes and laundry so you don't have to. Cuz it's your birthday." Then he asked me how to spell "birthday" and "here" and tried to sneak what I now suspect is my birthday card past me into the house. Then he wished me "good sleep and sweet dreams" after I turned out the lights at bedtime.
They can drive me half crazy with how much I teach that goes in one ear and out the other. But every once in a while there's a gem like this that reminds me that persistence is working, that they'll turn out great, and that my children are amazing souls.
I sure love my boys:)
What are you thankful for today?
P.S. I know the :/ symbol technically means "confused," but I use it to illustrate my slightly tilted head, raised eyebrow, and one-side-of-my-mouth-pulled-back look...You know, the "are you kidding me?" look, the "that is utterly ridiculous" look, the "seriously, folks?" look...maybe I'll take a picture to illustrate one of these days:)
Friday, June 29, 2012
Let's pretend it's still Thursday
There's much to blog about as far as deep gratitude goes.
But I feel like being trivial today.
I am thankful for sugar snap peas, long showers, lazy summer days, sprinklers, camp fires, solitude, gummy worms, ice water, sparkling little boys' eyes, and puzzles.
What are you thankful for?
But I feel like being trivial today.
I am thankful for sugar snap peas, long showers, lazy summer days, sprinklers, camp fires, solitude, gummy worms, ice water, sparkling little boys' eyes, and puzzles.
What are you thankful for?
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Sheesh, lighten up.
I'm tired of all the heavy blogging.
So, to lighten things up- here's a picture of my seven year old catching butterflies (his latest scientific escapade)...
...and all my boys searching for the elusive polar bear at the zoo.
We do have lots of fun around here. Promise:)
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