Last night my twins graduated from Kindergarten.
It was cute. It was corny. It was silly. It was drawn out. It was full of too many props. It was entertaining. It was boring. It was crowded.
I loved it.
I loved standing there, trying and failing to get a good shot of my boys distractedly or enthusiastically singing. I loved having the thought, "Those are my boys. They're growing up so fast, but they're still so young and sweet and awesome. And mine." I loved letting the ensuing feeling of gratitude sink in. Gratitude for who they are. Gratitude for what they're capable of. Gratitude for the health and protection they've been blessed with to make sure they've lived this long;) Gratitude for the hilarity that follows them constantly. Gratitude for the new ways they've opened up the world to me with their people-loving personalities.
But mostly it was gratitude for the privilege it is to be their mother. I am so lucky to be Al's mom. I am so lucky to be Goose's mom. It's a tough, draining, inspiring, entertaining, joyful, intense struggle to be their mom. But what a privilege it is. I'm so thankful for the opportunity to be a mother to these boys. To all my boys.
This Mother's Day time of the year, a bit more than the rest of the year ('cause let's be honest- I feel this way often), has a knack for dredging up all the ways I feel I fail as a mom. It's tough feeling like I can be this ideal in my head, but continually falling short. I sometimes feel like I should just let go of that ideal and be more "realistic." But that would only help me feel good in the meantime while keeping me from progressing and cheating my kids out of the better mom I can be. I refuse to give up on that ideal. And so the guilt continues:) But this year, I feel more hope than failure. I have a good chunk of years to look back on and see progress. I'm definitely a better mother now than I was nine years ago. Give me nine more and I might be pretty good!
Just in time for most of them to be on their way out of our nest...
For now I will concentrate on the things to love right now. Like the way Trooper says, "ooWooooow!" with enthusiasm instead of just a plain "wow." And the way Al and Goose play off each other and talk over each other when they're pretending. Their voices get steadily louder and louder until they're shouting about all the fun they're creating. It's annoying, but hilarious when I step back. And the conflict I see in Jonz when he's caught between wanting to grow up and enjoying the "little kid stuff" with his brothers.
Being a mom to these boys is wonderful and meaningful and amazing.
Happy Mother's Day!!
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Ducting
Because venting is so 2013.
I know I haven't blogged in a couple weeks. I'd give viable excuses, but you wouldn't care so I won't bother wasting my time or yours.
You're welcome.
Today was not an "I enjoy being a mother" day.
Today was an "I don't think I'm cracked up for this gig" day.
Poop. Dirt. Goathead thorns. Dirty laundry. Dirty dishes. Runny noses. Filthy fingernails. Lying. Whining. Crying. Pouting. Entitlement. Lost forever jacket and lunchbox. Constant questions.
And if I have to remind any of my children one more time that we don't lie, whine, drink drinks that aren't ours (especially in public or construction zones), eat random things off the floor (especially at stores), ride bikes without helmets, put our feet in other people's face, hit anyone in the face or the head, or have poor hygiene (wash. your. hannnnnds!) I seriously might explode.
Granted, these weren't all offenses of today. But they are the culmination of two days hard battle and years of consistent war.
It doesn't help that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I think we all did.
Today is a grumpy day.
I still love my children. I still wouldn't trade them for anything. I still love my 24/7 job.
Everyone has days like this. I wish understanding that made it easier.
All children are now in bed and I am holding out hope for tomorrow.
Goodnight, moon.
I know I haven't blogged in a couple weeks. I'd give viable excuses, but you wouldn't care so I won't bother wasting my time or yours.
You're welcome.
Today was not an "I enjoy being a mother" day.
Today was an "I don't think I'm cracked up for this gig" day.
Poop. Dirt. Goathead thorns. Dirty laundry. Dirty dishes. Runny noses. Filthy fingernails. Lying. Whining. Crying. Pouting. Entitlement. Lost forever jacket and lunchbox. Constant questions.
And if I have to remind any of my children one more time that we don't lie, whine, drink drinks that aren't ours (especially in public or construction zones), eat random things off the floor (especially at stores), ride bikes without helmets, put our feet in other people's face, hit anyone in the face or the head, or have poor hygiene (wash. your. hannnnnds!) I seriously might explode.
Granted, these weren't all offenses of today. But they are the culmination of two days hard battle and years of consistent war.
It doesn't help that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I think we all did.
Today is a grumpy day.
I still love my children. I still wouldn't trade them for anything. I still love my 24/7 job.
Everyone has days like this. I wish understanding that made it easier.
All children are now in bed and I am holding out hope for tomorrow.
Goodnight, moon.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Because it's been too long
I can't win.
I told my boys last night that they could go downstairs when they woke up instead of waiting for me to come get them. Only stipulation: Be super quiet so you don't wake up Trooper.
The talking (my boys' normal volume is two decibels short of yelling) started before they even got halfway down the stairs.
I can't win.
I asked the boys to unload the dishwasher (a daily chore) and was met with protestations galore. "WHY do we have to put dishes away?" (so we have clean dishes when we want them) "Why is it only ever US doing dishes and not YOU?" (oh no you di'int!) "I HATE having dishes!" (you're welcome to eat off the floor) "Goose, get out of the way!" (you might try asking him nicely) "I HATE selling our house!" (so do I, but bad news: you're still going to have to do this at our new house because this is something that needs to be done whether we have a showing or not)
I can't win.
I tried to make cleaning their room a game. Only stipulation: Be super quiet so you don't wake up Trooper sleeping right on the other side of the wall.
You can guess how many seconds THAT lasted. *siiiiiiiiigh*
I can't win.
Christmas was less than a month ago. The pleeeeeeeease-can-I-have-this requests are already back in full swing. Sat one of my boys down today and explained how blessed he is to have any toys at all let alone the massive amount we do have. He about died of grief when he did not get the "black sonic the hedgehog guy remote controlled motorcycle toy" he saw on a shelf today.
I just can't win.
I have hope that all the years past, present, and future of this means I'm going to win in the long run. When my boys have grown into well mannered, down to earth, hard working, respectful men and all that.
But for now?
I'd really just like a win!
I told my boys last night that they could go downstairs when they woke up instead of waiting for me to come get them. Only stipulation: Be super quiet so you don't wake up Trooper.
The talking (my boys' normal volume is two decibels short of yelling) started before they even got halfway down the stairs.
I can't win.
I asked the boys to unload the dishwasher (a daily chore) and was met with protestations galore. "WHY do we have to put dishes away?" (so we have clean dishes when we want them) "Why is it only ever US doing dishes and not YOU?" (oh no you di'int!) "I HATE having dishes!" (you're welcome to eat off the floor) "Goose, get out of the way!" (you might try asking him nicely) "I HATE selling our house!" (so do I, but bad news: you're still going to have to do this at our new house because this is something that needs to be done whether we have a showing or not)
I can't win.
I tried to make cleaning their room a game. Only stipulation: Be super quiet so you don't wake up Trooper sleeping right on the other side of the wall.
You can guess how many seconds THAT lasted. *siiiiiiiiigh*
I can't win.
Christmas was less than a month ago. The pleeeeeeeease-can-I-have-this requests are already back in full swing. Sat one of my boys down today and explained how blessed he is to have any toys at all let alone the massive amount we do have. He about died of grief when he did not get the "black sonic the hedgehog guy remote controlled motorcycle toy" he saw on a shelf today.
I just can't win.
I have hope that all the years past, present, and future of this means I'm going to win in the long run. When my boys have grown into well mannered, down to earth, hard working, respectful men and all that.
But for now?
I'd really just like a win!
Thursday, December 12, 2013
"On December five and twenty..."
They say that writing is good for the soul.
Journaling is therapeutic and helps a person to work through their emotions. Writing out thoughts and seeing them on paper helps a mind to see things more clearly and better understand thoughts, emotions, reactions, etc.
So why is it that any time I've tried to sit down and write out my thoughts in the last months, that I don't like what comes out? What comes out doesn't feel like me, doesn't feel true to my core, doesn't feel productive or edifying...and you know me (or maybe you don't), if it's not edifying, I am not a big fan.
I refuse to believe that I am what I have written and deleted in the past months.
Cuz I'm not.
Yet I sit down to write and feel like I just start going in circles. It's insanely frustrating.
Every once in a while, something good and clarifying comes out of my efforts. But for the most part...circles, circles, circles.
Which may account for my lack of activity here.
Missed me?
No?
Well, who needs you!
I'm going somewhere different this Thankful Thursday.
I'm going to pat myself on the back and talk about me, me, me, and how awesome I am.
Historically, I haven't taken compliments well. But I think I'm doing a swell job improving being able to recognize truth in compliments and accept them gratefully.
So today I'm going to run right past tooting my own horn, and blast some long, loud notes. It may seem self-centered, but since I never do this and I'm only really repeating things other people have told me- it's alright, right?
And who can't use a good pep talk in the mirror every so often?
I am ridiculously optimistic. Pollyanna ain't got nothin' on me.
I am 50 times more charitable and Christian than I was 15 years ago, even five years ago. My first reactions may not always be thus, but usually I am on to more charitable thoughts in mere moments.
I am one of the strongest women I know. No joke.
I may not have a ton of friends, but with the ones I make I am true blue. And so are they!
I am a good mom. I love my boys and I work hard to establish and maintain boundaries that will help them grow up awesome and happy.
I am a stellar wife.
I am wise and intelligent. Not as quick-witted as I wish, but who likes a triple threat anyway?
I make really cute kids.
I have super awesome taste in the arts.
Yeah. That's enough horn blasting for now, I think.
What about you?
What about yourself are you thankful for?
Journaling is therapeutic and helps a person to work through their emotions. Writing out thoughts and seeing them on paper helps a mind to see things more clearly and better understand thoughts, emotions, reactions, etc.
So why is it that any time I've tried to sit down and write out my thoughts in the last months, that I don't like what comes out? What comes out doesn't feel like me, doesn't feel true to my core, doesn't feel productive or edifying...and you know me (or maybe you don't), if it's not edifying, I am not a big fan.
I refuse to believe that I am what I have written and deleted in the past months.
Cuz I'm not.
Yet I sit down to write and feel like I just start going in circles. It's insanely frustrating.
Every once in a while, something good and clarifying comes out of my efforts. But for the most part...circles, circles, circles.
Which may account for my lack of activity here.
Missed me?
No?
Well, who needs you!
I'm going somewhere different this Thankful Thursday.
I'm going to pat myself on the back and talk about me, me, me, and how awesome I am.
Historically, I haven't taken compliments well. But I think I'm doing a swell job improving being able to recognize truth in compliments and accept them gratefully.
So today I'm going to run right past tooting my own horn, and blast some long, loud notes. It may seem self-centered, but since I never do this and I'm only really repeating things other people have told me- it's alright, right?
And who can't use a good pep talk in the mirror every so often?
I am ridiculously optimistic. Pollyanna ain't got nothin' on me.
I am 50 times more charitable and Christian than I was 15 years ago, even five years ago. My first reactions may not always be thus, but usually I am on to more charitable thoughts in mere moments.
I am one of the strongest women I know. No joke.
I may not have a ton of friends, but with the ones I make I am true blue. And so are they!
I am a good mom. I love my boys and I work hard to establish and maintain boundaries that will help them grow up awesome and happy.
I am a stellar wife.
I am wise and intelligent. Not as quick-witted as I wish, but who likes a triple threat anyway?
I make really cute kids.
I have super awesome taste in the arts.
Yeah. That's enough horn blasting for now, I think.
What about you?
What about yourself are you thankful for?
Sunday, September 8, 2013
There was a moment...
...when I watched my little baby feeding himself graham crackers.
He's growing up so fast.
They all grow up so fast.
When I had "three under three," I often heard comments to the tune of "enjoy these days. They grow up so fast." To which I would think (through the mist of exhaustion and wondering when this interminable day would close...so another would start), "Yeah...riiiiight."
But they were right. Looking back, those looooong days flew past in weeks, months, and years.
And I do miss them.
I enjoy this stage. Very much so. I love this stage.
But I still miss those days.
Especially since I've blocked out so much of the tough stuff;)
And now my Trooper acts like he'll be rushing up to join his brothers in their independence by tomorrow.
They grow up so fast.
Darn those gummed up graham crackers.
He's growing up so fast.
They all grow up so fast.
When I had "three under three," I often heard comments to the tune of "enjoy these days. They grow up so fast." To which I would think (through the mist of exhaustion and wondering when this interminable day would close...so another would start), "Yeah...riiiiight."
But they were right. Looking back, those looooong days flew past in weeks, months, and years.
And I do miss them.
I enjoy this stage. Very much so. I love this stage.
But I still miss those days.
Especially since I've blocked out so much of the tough stuff;)
And now my Trooper acts like he'll be rushing up to join his brothers in their independence by tomorrow.
They grow up so fast.
Darn those gummed up graham crackers.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Well whaddayaknow? Yesterday was Thursday
Absolutely every single day I think, "What have I gotten myself into?...Four kids!?...Why did I think I could take care of FOUR human beings? I can't do this. I shouldn't be doing this!"
Absolutely every single day I think, "This is the awesomest thing in the world. I want four more."
Contradiction seems to be motherhood in a nutshell. At least in my corner of the world.
It's the most unnatural-natural thing I've ever done.
It's the most joyful-depressing thing I've ever experienced.
I was never so at peace and apoplectic.
Yessir, one big contradiction:)
I may be at my wit's end more often than I would wish, but I wouldn't trade the wonder it is to intimately experience the spiritual, intellectual, and physical growth of four amazing souls for anything. Not for anything at all.
It's a privilege, an honor, and a joy to be Mommy to each of these four boys.
Absolutely every single day I think, "This is the awesomest thing in the world. I want four more."
Contradiction seems to be motherhood in a nutshell. At least in my corner of the world.
It's the most unnatural-natural thing I've ever done.
It's the most joyful-depressing thing I've ever experienced.
I was never so at peace and apoplectic.
Yessir, one big contradiction:)
I may be at my wit's end more often than I would wish, but I wouldn't trade the wonder it is to intimately experience the spiritual, intellectual, and physical growth of four amazing souls for anything. Not for anything at all.
It's a privilege, an honor, and a joy to be Mommy to each of these four boys.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Reasonable Rules for Dating my Son
I've seen many, many memes and posts along the lines of rules/applications for dating someone's daughter.
They've got their wit and humor, to be sure.
As a mother of boys, I look at them with a different perspective. Honestly, I don't like them.
This morning, I decided to see if anyone has responded with a rules/application for dating someone's son.
Thank you, Google, for making that search easy.
AND...I didn't like what I found for dating sons, either.
There's too much undertone of cruelty and anger running through these things:
"I will make you go away."
"Understand I don't like you."
"Don't dress like a stripper."
"She's not your conquest."
"Get a lawyer."
"I brought him into this world. He's mine until there's a ring on your finger. Then I will be your mother-in-law."
Sheeeeeesh.
So I made my own.
Presenting Lindsey's 10 Rules for Dating my Son:
1. Speak kindly to him. He's been raised to speak respectfully, please give him the same courtesy- especially when you two disagree about something.
2. Smile at him. It lets him know you enjoy his company.
3. You've been blessed with a beautiful body. Please keep it covered. Don't make him spend all his time spent with you trying to keep his mind in a good place. Yes, he is responsible for his own thoughts and actions. But could you give the guy a break? Dress in a manner that makes it easier for him to concentrate on who you are and not what you are. You'll both have more fun this way.
4. Respect his body and his space.
5. He is not allowed to hit you. Do not take advantage of that.
6. He has been taught to pay on dates. Do not take advantage of that. He does not have unlimited funds.
7. I know what you two are writing and saying to each other. Keep your communications clean and respectful and you'll never hear from me about it.
8. Please be honest and straightforward with him. He's grown up with brothers and we just don't do mind games and emotional tomfoolery around here. Don't lie to him, don't lead him on. Just tell it like it is.
9. Be a lady. Don't be crass and don't be crude. He needs you to add something softer and gentler to his life.
10. The Golden Rule. It's as easy as that.
And just to be fair, here is a sample of Dating Rules I will Teach my Sons:
1. Speak kindly to her. Always. Even and especially when she gets snippy. Sometimes, girls just get catty against their better judgement. You need to be rock solid respectful always. She'll appreciate your strength. But if she's always snippy, it's time to rethink what kind of girls you want to date.
2. Smile at her. It lets her know you like to be around her. And it lights up your eyes. You have such handsome eyes.
3. Date girls who show respect for their bodies, and for you, by covering up. Always keep a hoodie in your car. That way, if you pick up a date who is not properly attired you can say, "You should have told me today was laundry day! I would have waited to take you out until you had enough clean clothes. Here, take my hoodie so you won't be cold." If she doesn't think that's funny then puts on the hoodie or changes her clothes...chalk that one up to a bad match and try again next weekend with someone else.
4. Respect her body and her space.
5. If you ever push her around or hit her, you will find yourself in massive trouble with your parents and hers. Punching and wrestling only works to solve problems between you and your brothers. You have to talk to girls. There will be much talking. Don't let that frustrate you; enjoy this new facet of your life!
6. You asked her out, you pay the way for both of you. Maybe she asked you out, or maybe she wants to pay her share. If that is the case, you be polite and at least offer to pay. Whatever the situation, never go out on a date unless you are prepared to pay for it.
7. I monitor all lines of communication. The more you complain about that, the more often I will have surprise inspections.
8. You will not play dating games. If you like her, date her. If you don't think it's working out, tell her and stop dating her. There will be no leading on. Mind games are for sissies. Around here, we mock sissies; you know that.
9. Open doors for her. Not because she can't do it, but because it shows her you think more about her than yourself. Be a gentleman. If she doesn't appreciate that, then Son, you're dating the wrong type of girl for you.
10. The Golden Rule. It's as easy as that.
So...there you go. It should go without saying, but I'll say it anyway- This is only a very small piece of what I will teach my boys about dating. We may be a way off from dating age, but it's never to early to start preparing, eh?:)
They've got their wit and humor, to be sure.
As a mother of boys, I look at them with a different perspective. Honestly, I don't like them.
This morning, I decided to see if anyone has responded with a rules/application for dating someone's son.
Thank you, Google, for making that search easy.
AND...I didn't like what I found for dating sons, either.
There's too much undertone of cruelty and anger running through these things:
"I will make you go away."
"Understand I don't like you."
"Don't dress like a stripper."
"She's not your conquest."
"Get a lawyer."
"I brought him into this world. He's mine until there's a ring on your finger. Then I will be your mother-in-law."
Sheeeeeesh.
So I made my own.
Presenting Lindsey's 10 Rules for Dating my Son:
1. Speak kindly to him. He's been raised to speak respectfully, please give him the same courtesy- especially when you two disagree about something.
2. Smile at him. It lets him know you enjoy his company.
3. You've been blessed with a beautiful body. Please keep it covered. Don't make him spend all his time spent with you trying to keep his mind in a good place. Yes, he is responsible for his own thoughts and actions. But could you give the guy a break? Dress in a manner that makes it easier for him to concentrate on who you are and not what you are. You'll both have more fun this way.
4. Respect his body and his space.
5. He is not allowed to hit you. Do not take advantage of that.
6. He has been taught to pay on dates. Do not take advantage of that. He does not have unlimited funds.
7. I know what you two are writing and saying to each other. Keep your communications clean and respectful and you'll never hear from me about it.
8. Please be honest and straightforward with him. He's grown up with brothers and we just don't do mind games and emotional tomfoolery around here. Don't lie to him, don't lead him on. Just tell it like it is.
9. Be a lady. Don't be crass and don't be crude. He needs you to add something softer and gentler to his life.
10. The Golden Rule. It's as easy as that.
And just to be fair, here is a sample of Dating Rules I will Teach my Sons:
1. Speak kindly to her. Always. Even and especially when she gets snippy. Sometimes, girls just get catty against their better judgement. You need to be rock solid respectful always. She'll appreciate your strength. But if she's always snippy, it's time to rethink what kind of girls you want to date.
2. Smile at her. It lets her know you like to be around her. And it lights up your eyes. You have such handsome eyes.
3. Date girls who show respect for their bodies, and for you, by covering up. Always keep a hoodie in your car. That way, if you pick up a date who is not properly attired you can say, "You should have told me today was laundry day! I would have waited to take you out until you had enough clean clothes. Here, take my hoodie so you won't be cold." If she doesn't think that's funny then puts on the hoodie or changes her clothes...chalk that one up to a bad match and try again next weekend with someone else.
4. Respect her body and her space.
5. If you ever push her around or hit her, you will find yourself in massive trouble with your parents and hers. Punching and wrestling only works to solve problems between you and your brothers. You have to talk to girls. There will be much talking. Don't let that frustrate you; enjoy this new facet of your life!
6. You asked her out, you pay the way for both of you. Maybe she asked you out, or maybe she wants to pay her share. If that is the case, you be polite and at least offer to pay. Whatever the situation, never go out on a date unless you are prepared to pay for it.
7. I monitor all lines of communication. The more you complain about that, the more often I will have surprise inspections.
8. You will not play dating games. If you like her, date her. If you don't think it's working out, tell her and stop dating her. There will be no leading on. Mind games are for sissies. Around here, we mock sissies; you know that.
9. Open doors for her. Not because she can't do it, but because it shows her you think more about her than yourself. Be a gentleman. If she doesn't appreciate that, then Son, you're dating the wrong type of girl for you.
10. The Golden Rule. It's as easy as that.
So...there you go. It should go without saying, but I'll say it anyway- This is only a very small piece of what I will teach my boys about dating. We may be a way off from dating age, but it's never to early to start preparing, eh?:)
Thursday, August 8, 2013
We meet again
It's Thursday.
And I just don't have it in me to blog today.
I figure I should say something, though, since I didn't blog last Thursday.
Soooo, here I am to give it a shot.
Today has been another ordinary day, made different by a visit from my brother and his family. That was lovely!
My life has been full of lots of ordinary days lately. Or, as ordinary as they get these days when everything is simultaneously in upheaval and limbo.
We're back at school. Now with three boys instead of one.
It's a busy schedule and I'm feeling like I've achieved a new level of "legit" in motherhood.
I spent lots of time yesterday reveling in the little voices (that's little. But don't let it fool you; they're very loud little voices:)) narrating quite the imaginative scenes and sweet faces with round cheeks quietly intent on superhero books. These things won't last long and I will miss them.
I will welcome and love each stage, to be sure. But that doesn't mean I won't miss the little voices, the daily imagined adventures, the giggles, the constant light in their eyes put there by the constant wonder they are experiencing, the spontaneous singing without inhibition, the hugs, the kisses, and being their favorite person in the world.
Just last week I hugged Jonz after school and he pushed away and said, "Awww, Moooom."
All I could think was, "*sigh* It begins."
Then I grabbed his face and planted a big kiss on his cheek. I can only get away with tricks like that for so long, you know.
I am thankful for this time of life. It sure is fun.
What are you thankful for today?
And I just don't have it in me to blog today.
I figure I should say something, though, since I didn't blog last Thursday.
Soooo, here I am to give it a shot.
Today has been another ordinary day, made different by a visit from my brother and his family. That was lovely!
My life has been full of lots of ordinary days lately. Or, as ordinary as they get these days when everything is simultaneously in upheaval and limbo.
We're back at school. Now with three boys instead of one.
It's a busy schedule and I'm feeling like I've achieved a new level of "legit" in motherhood.
I spent lots of time yesterday reveling in the little voices (that's little. But don't let it fool you; they're very loud little voices:)) narrating quite the imaginative scenes and sweet faces with round cheeks quietly intent on superhero books. These things won't last long and I will miss them.
I will welcome and love each stage, to be sure. But that doesn't mean I won't miss the little voices, the daily imagined adventures, the giggles, the constant light in their eyes put there by the constant wonder they are experiencing, the spontaneous singing without inhibition, the hugs, the kisses, and being their favorite person in the world.
Just last week I hugged Jonz after school and he pushed away and said, "Awww, Moooom."
All I could think was, "*sigh* It begins."
Then I grabbed his face and planted a big kiss on his cheek. I can only get away with tricks like that for so long, you know.
I am thankful for this time of life. It sure is fun.
What are you thankful for today?
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Never enough
Life is good.
...but I always want more.
I'd like some heavenly guidance. I've been asking, begging, and pleading for it for a couple months.
Especially so in the last few days.
I finally got some today. Only it wasn't quite what I wanted.
I finally get an answer and immediately I'm basically whining (just like my kids, and I hate it when they do this!) that it's not enough.
*siiiiiiiigh* Once again, Heavenly Father, I'm sorry.
Thank you for helping me to see more clearly.
Thank you for strengthening my faith.
Thank you for showing me that you ARE watching over my family, even when I start to wonder what's going on.
Thank you for being patient with me.
Thank you for showing me over and over and over again that you have plans for me and my family. Plans that you understand better than me. Plans that will lead to the best possible blessings that you can give us.
And thank you for blessing me with four sons who push me to be better and fill my life with smiles, shining eyes, hugs, kisses, laughter, and joy.
...but I always want more.
I'd like some heavenly guidance. I've been asking, begging, and pleading for it for a couple months.
Especially so in the last few days.
I finally got some today. Only it wasn't quite what I wanted.
I finally get an answer and immediately I'm basically whining (just like my kids, and I hate it when they do this!) that it's not enough.
*siiiiiiiigh* Once again, Heavenly Father, I'm sorry.
Thank you for helping me to see more clearly.
Thank you for strengthening my faith.
Thank you for showing me that you ARE watching over my family, even when I start to wonder what's going on.
Thank you for being patient with me.
Thank you for showing me over and over and over again that you have plans for me and my family. Plans that you understand better than me. Plans that will lead to the best possible blessings that you can give us.
And thank you for blessing me with four sons who push me to be better and fill my life with smiles, shining eyes, hugs, kisses, laughter, and joy.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Sticks, snails, and puppy dog tails
Things I am learning to accept as a mother of these little boys:
If it can be said, it must be shouted. Louder is always better.
"It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."
Checking pockets before doing laundry will always be an adventure.
"Please give that to me" or "Can you get ____ for me?" is translated as "please throw that at my head." Always say "please hand that to me." This does not guarantee it will not be thrown at me, but it does lessen the odds.
The bathroom will always smell...off...I'm sure you can guess why.
Stitches. Blood, bruises, bonks, falls, bandaids, scrapes, cuts, splinters, black eyes, concussions, and injuries in general.
Silence is silly. Why be quiet when there are explosion, gunfire, and fighting sound effects to be made?
No. They can't sit still. Stop asking.
They will always think it is time to eat, whether we just finished a meal or not.
Nothing should only be used for its intended purpose. A soccer ball serves just as well as a pretend bomb. A couch works just as well as a trampoline.
The walls, carpet, furniture, etc. will never look pristine for more than an hour. (My walls...my poor, poor walls.)
Hitting with a smile on your face is funny. Hitting with fire in your eyes is a capital offense.
It is not common sense to wash one's hands.
Sleep is for sissies.
And I am a sissy.
If it can be said, it must be shouted. Louder is always better.
"It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."
Checking pockets before doing laundry will always be an adventure.
"Please give that to me" or "Can you get ____ for me?" is translated as "please throw that at my head." Always say "please hand that to me." This does not guarantee it will not be thrown at me, but it does lessen the odds.
The bathroom will always smell...off...I'm sure you can guess why.
Stitches. Blood, bruises, bonks, falls, bandaids, scrapes, cuts, splinters, black eyes, concussions, and injuries in general.
Silence is silly. Why be quiet when there are explosion, gunfire, and fighting sound effects to be made?
No. They can't sit still. Stop asking.
They will always think it is time to eat, whether we just finished a meal or not.
Nothing should only be used for its intended purpose. A soccer ball serves just as well as a pretend bomb. A couch works just as well as a trampoline.
The walls, carpet, furniture, etc. will never look pristine for more than an hour. (My walls...my poor, poor walls.)
Hitting with a smile on your face is funny. Hitting with fire in your eyes is a capital offense.
It is not common sense to wash one's hands.
Sleep is for sissies.
And I am a sissy.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
"I like ten dollars."
I'm fairly worn out. So I apologize if this post is anything less than coherent...
This morning the twins and I were laying on the floor by Trooper taking silly videos with my phone. After I played them all back for them, Goose asked if he could play games on my phone. I told him the battery was low and I needed to charge it. He looked sideways at me from where he was laying next to my head and after a slight pause he said, "Mom, I think you need to charge YOUR battery."
Quite right, pal!
I'm so thankful I get to hang out with these awesome guys all day and for how often they make me laugh with their unintended wit and hilarity.
What are you thankful for today?
This morning the twins and I were laying on the floor by Trooper taking silly videos with my phone. After I played them all back for them, Goose asked if he could play games on my phone. I told him the battery was low and I needed to charge it. He looked sideways at me from where he was laying next to my head and after a slight pause he said, "Mom, I think you need to charge YOUR battery."
Quite right, pal!
I'm so thankful I get to hang out with these awesome guys all day and for how often they make me laugh with their unintended wit and hilarity.
What are you thankful for today?
Monday, April 15, 2013
It's gr8 to be eight!
This past Saturday our family went to a baptism- beautiful girl, beautiful day. Many, many wonderful moments were experienced.
Many, many that I have been pondering on all weekend.
One of which I will share here in the hopes of giving hope to moms of wild kids.
Before the actual baptism, a couple women I do not know spoke to the children about to be baptized. One spoke on baptism and one spoke on the Holy Ghost.
At some point during the second talk, I glanced over at my soon-to-be-eight year old and for some reason was struck by his behavior.
He was sitting still.
He was looking at the speaker.
He was making no noise.
And it hit me- "We have arrived! Hallelujah!"
Less than six years ago Bret and I were describing that trying to keep track of our oldest boy was like handling triplets.
He was everywhere, in everything, on everything, with noise constantly coming out of his mouth as he required his own percussion beat to his life.
That boy was perpetual motion personified.
The poor kid was constantly in trouble. "Jonz! Don't do that. Jonz! No. Stop. No. Jonz! You can't have that. No. That's not safe. Jonz! No. Get down. No. Joooooonz."
It was quite the challenge to find a way to say some positive things in between all those no's, pleas, and warnings.
He was a fire.cracker.
Teaching him to behave properly in different circumstances (particularly church) was a behemoth undertaking. The change was gradual and span the entirety of the past seven years.
At first Jonz spent entire Sacrament meetings screaming on Bret's lap in a separate classroom.
Then Jonz would spend Sacrament meetings walking back and forth between me and Bret, getting in his brothers' faces, beat boxing, sitting down, standing up, sitting, standing, sitting, standing, and every so often trying to sneak past Dad's knee or escape under the pew.
Then he was pounding on his brothers, beat boxing, standing, sitting, standing, sitting, standing, sitting...
Then he was poking his brothers, giggling quietly, standing, sitting, standing, sitting.
Then he was poking his brothers and swinging his feet into the pew.
Then he was occasionally punching a brother or swinging his feet, stopping quickly with a whispered, "Jonz," accompanied by a "look."
The change was so gradual that suddenly we were in the chapel on Saturday and I realized that I hadn't had to chide him. Not even once. We went inside, we sat down, and he behaved magnificently!
We. have. arriiiiiiived!
He still needs reminders sometimes and I suspect he will for years to come. He still runs everywhere while makes noises like a wounded, rampaging dragon. He is still an energetic boy through and through.
But he has finally gotten to the point that he can control himself without constant intervention from Bret or me.
There is hope, fellow moms of wild ones! The perseverance does pay off. They are learning, even when it takes ten million reminders. Take heart!
It is so much easier to have hope for all my boys now that I have seen it's possible with one of them.
Hal-le-lu-jah.
I am so proud of the young man my Jonz is becoming. He was once triplets, trying to break out of one little body and stretching my patience thirty feet past its limit. Now (though he still can stretch my patience) Jonz is my stalwart helper, an excellent example as an older brother, our goofy comic relief, a pleasant companion, and a joy to watch as he continues to learn and grow.
We're looking forward to our own baptism soon and I am so excited to see my son take that first step back to Heavenly Father.
Growing up is exciting:)
Many, many that I have been pondering on all weekend.
One of which I will share here in the hopes of giving hope to moms of wild kids.
Before the actual baptism, a couple women I do not know spoke to the children about to be baptized. One spoke on baptism and one spoke on the Holy Ghost.
At some point during the second talk, I glanced over at my soon-to-be-eight year old and for some reason was struck by his behavior.
He was sitting still.
He was looking at the speaker.
He was making no noise.
And it hit me- "We have arrived! Hallelujah!"
Less than six years ago Bret and I were describing that trying to keep track of our oldest boy was like handling triplets.
He was everywhere, in everything, on everything, with noise constantly coming out of his mouth as he required his own percussion beat to his life.
That boy was perpetual motion personified.
The poor kid was constantly in trouble. "Jonz! Don't do that. Jonz! No. Stop. No. Jonz! You can't have that. No. That's not safe. Jonz! No. Get down. No. Joooooonz."
It was quite the challenge to find a way to say some positive things in between all those no's, pleas, and warnings.
He was a fire.cracker.
Teaching him to behave properly in different circumstances (particularly church) was a behemoth undertaking. The change was gradual and span the entirety of the past seven years.
At first Jonz spent entire Sacrament meetings screaming on Bret's lap in a separate classroom.
Then Jonz would spend Sacrament meetings walking back and forth between me and Bret, getting in his brothers' faces, beat boxing, sitting down, standing up, sitting, standing, sitting, standing, and every so often trying to sneak past Dad's knee or escape under the pew.
Then he was pounding on his brothers, beat boxing, standing, sitting, standing, sitting, standing, sitting...
Then he was poking his brothers, giggling quietly, standing, sitting, standing, sitting.
Then he was poking his brothers and swinging his feet into the pew.
Then he was occasionally punching a brother or swinging his feet, stopping quickly with a whispered, "Jonz," accompanied by a "look."
The change was so gradual that suddenly we were in the chapel on Saturday and I realized that I hadn't had to chide him. Not even once. We went inside, we sat down, and he behaved magnificently!
We. have. arriiiiiiived!
He still needs reminders sometimes and I suspect he will for years to come. He still runs everywhere while makes noises like a wounded, rampaging dragon. He is still an energetic boy through and through.
But he has finally gotten to the point that he can control himself without constant intervention from Bret or me.
There is hope, fellow moms of wild ones! The perseverance does pay off. They are learning, even when it takes ten million reminders. Take heart!
It is so much easier to have hope for all my boys now that I have seen it's possible with one of them.
Hal-le-lu-jah.
I am so proud of the young man my Jonz is becoming. He was once triplets, trying to break out of one little body and stretching my patience thirty feet past its limit. Now (though he still can stretch my patience) Jonz is my stalwart helper, an excellent example as an older brother, our goofy comic relief, a pleasant companion, and a joy to watch as he continues to learn and grow.
We're looking forward to our own baptism soon and I am so excited to see my son take that first step back to Heavenly Father.
Growing up is exciting:)
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Amazed
My little Trooper is nearly three months old.
I find it amazing how easily I slip into a feeling of normalcy with whatever patterns of life I find myself in.
For years I was afraid of having more children. I always had this feeling, though, that if we did have more- surely, surely God would give me a break and bless me with a peaceful baby. But...would he really...? And so that fear stuck around, right through the first couple weeks of Trooper's life.
He was calm, his cry was not hysterical screaming, and anything he cried about was easily discovered and remedied.
Yet I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for him to behave in the ways I was used to babies behaving. That exhausting, frustrating, insanity-creating way that I was used to.
I don't know why I was waiting for that shoe fall. I'd prayed my heart out that Heavenly Father send us a peaceful baby. I knew asking for such things was petulant. But I didn't think I could handle another newborn phase like the ones I'd known. I do know that he would have helped me and the baby through it should come to that...but...
But oh-so-thankfully, he sent us Trooper.
A calmer, more peaceful, happy presence I have rarely known. Never have I known it in an infant. I mean for goodness' sake he's only gotten the hang of smiling in the last month! And yet, just to be in the same room as him is soothing to the soul.
I love him.
And I am thankful for the reminders I get that I am so lucky to have him. Life with him seems normal already. He's been sick in varying degrees for the last couple weeks. Even through that he was true to his blog nickname. But yesterday and today, he's finally up against a symptom he can't handle alone. My poor boy's throat is congested, and sometimes his sinuses as well. He just wants to be held (preferably upright so he can breathe a bit easier). And all this holding, and back-patting, and bouncing, and swaying to try to soothe him throughout the day reminds me of all those months where Bret and I did this constantly.
I am so blessed to be this boy's mom. I am so thankful for the peaceful existence he's had so far and for the confidence I have that he'll return to that once he's better. He's a treasure.
What are you thankful for today?
FYI- Much focus has been placed on the subject of Trooper in this blog for many a month. Don't fret about my other boys, my husband, or any other aspect of life that I have neglected to write about lately. I love them all as deeply as ever. It's just that this preoccupation with Trooper is like any new love. I am smitten (and much of my time is consumed by his needs), and I write what's on my mind most, so obviously he will be my most frequent topic. Deal;)
I find it amazing how easily I slip into a feeling of normalcy with whatever patterns of life I find myself in.
For years I was afraid of having more children. I always had this feeling, though, that if we did have more- surely, surely God would give me a break and bless me with a peaceful baby. But...would he really...? And so that fear stuck around, right through the first couple weeks of Trooper's life.
He was calm, his cry was not hysterical screaming, and anything he cried about was easily discovered and remedied.
Yet I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for him to behave in the ways I was used to babies behaving. That exhausting, frustrating, insanity-creating way that I was used to.
I don't know why I was waiting for that shoe fall. I'd prayed my heart out that Heavenly Father send us a peaceful baby. I knew asking for such things was petulant. But I didn't think I could handle another newborn phase like the ones I'd known. I do know that he would have helped me and the baby through it should come to that...but...
But oh-so-thankfully, he sent us Trooper.
A calmer, more peaceful, happy presence I have rarely known. Never have I known it in an infant. I mean for goodness' sake he's only gotten the hang of smiling in the last month! And yet, just to be in the same room as him is soothing to the soul.
I love him.
And I am thankful for the reminders I get that I am so lucky to have him. Life with him seems normal already. He's been sick in varying degrees for the last couple weeks. Even through that he was true to his blog nickname. But yesterday and today, he's finally up against a symptom he can't handle alone. My poor boy's throat is congested, and sometimes his sinuses as well. He just wants to be held (preferably upright so he can breathe a bit easier). And all this holding, and back-patting, and bouncing, and swaying to try to soothe him throughout the day reminds me of all those months where Bret and I did this constantly.
I am so blessed to be this boy's mom. I am so thankful for the peaceful existence he's had so far and for the confidence I have that he'll return to that once he's better. He's a treasure.
What are you thankful for today?
FYI- Much focus has been placed on the subject of Trooper in this blog for many a month. Don't fret about my other boys, my husband, or any other aspect of life that I have neglected to write about lately. I love them all as deeply as ever. It's just that this preoccupation with Trooper is like any new love. I am smitten (and much of my time is consumed by his needs), and I write what's on my mind most, so obviously he will be my most frequent topic. Deal;)
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Random thoughts by Lindsey
Hello and goodbye, Thursday. You've been long, you've been tiring, you've been good, you've been bad, you've been a fine example of every aspect of life today. Let's call it a night, though, shall we?
My baby has the flu.
It's sad to see his little eyes so red and to hear his "I am so sad, you have no idea!" cry. He's normally not much of a crier. He grunts and whines and fusses often, but he rarely cries with fervor anymore now that we understand each other fairly well. And his sad cry is extremely rare, it's usually a "that sudden noise totally freaked me out" cry or "don't you know I'm starving here?!" cry. So yeah, kid's been crushing my heartstrings today with his sad crying.
He spent the morning so lethargic that I took him to the doctor just to make sure he didn't have anything more serious than the flu. He spent the evening wide awake for nearly six hours- the longest awake stretch he's ever had.
Curse the flu.
In other baby news, I may have narrowed down some nickname ideas for the youngest member of our family. I didn't have any trouble coming up with nicknames for my other boys. I wonder why it's such a struggle this time...
I wanted to call him The Sunshine Kid seeing as how he's such a source of joy for our family and that's a nickname used for his namesake uncle. But that's too much to type and a "mouthful" to read so we won't use that one, at least here on the blog.
I'm thinking we either call him Trooper because he puts up with so much like a champ. Or Tracer- an obscure reference to a character who shares his name.
Thoughts?
I sure am thankful that my bout with the flu didn't cause any lasting damage to my milk supply. We had some trouble for a couple days there, but everything righted itself and we're back to normal now. And the proof is in my 12 pound bundle of joy.
I had fun with my twinners today. They're finally recognizing the majority of the alphabet (still a few to work on) which is one of my least favorite things to teach, so I'm glad to almost have it behind us. I'm thinking next week we'll start into actual reading lessons. Very exciting:) Al and Goose have been looking so much older to me since the baby was born. The past few days, though, my perspective seems to have righted itself and I see my little boys again. I love it.
But there's no getting around the fact that Jonz is growing up quickly. He's growing taller and fast approaching eight years of age. My goodness what a great little man he is.
I am so blessed with my four boys. What a privilege it is to be such a large part of their young lives.
That's all from me. What are you thankful for today?
My baby has the flu.
It's sad to see his little eyes so red and to hear his "I am so sad, you have no idea!" cry. He's normally not much of a crier. He grunts and whines and fusses often, but he rarely cries with fervor anymore now that we understand each other fairly well. And his sad cry is extremely rare, it's usually a "that sudden noise totally freaked me out" cry or "don't you know I'm starving here?!" cry. So yeah, kid's been crushing my heartstrings today with his sad crying.
He spent the morning so lethargic that I took him to the doctor just to make sure he didn't have anything more serious than the flu. He spent the evening wide awake for nearly six hours- the longest awake stretch he's ever had.
Curse the flu.
In other baby news, I may have narrowed down some nickname ideas for the youngest member of our family. I didn't have any trouble coming up with nicknames for my other boys. I wonder why it's such a struggle this time...
I wanted to call him The Sunshine Kid seeing as how he's such a source of joy for our family and that's a nickname used for his namesake uncle. But that's too much to type and a "mouthful" to read so we won't use that one, at least here on the blog.
I'm thinking we either call him Trooper because he puts up with so much like a champ. Or Tracer- an obscure reference to a character who shares his name.
Thoughts?
I sure am thankful that my bout with the flu didn't cause any lasting damage to my milk supply. We had some trouble for a couple days there, but everything righted itself and we're back to normal now. And the proof is in my 12 pound bundle of joy.
I had fun with my twinners today. They're finally recognizing the majority of the alphabet (still a few to work on) which is one of my least favorite things to teach, so I'm glad to almost have it behind us. I'm thinking next week we'll start into actual reading lessons. Very exciting:) Al and Goose have been looking so much older to me since the baby was born. The past few days, though, my perspective seems to have righted itself and I see my little boys again. I love it.
But there's no getting around the fact that Jonz is growing up quickly. He's growing taller and fast approaching eight years of age. My goodness what a great little man he is.
I am so blessed with my four boys. What a privilege it is to be such a large part of their young lives.
That's all from me. What are you thankful for today?
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Blessings
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?
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?
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?
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?
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:)
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 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:
.jpg)
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:
.jpg)
"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?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)