tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36850703444711508752024-02-18T18:13:13.019-08:00Not-So-Hot Mess MamaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-70262046450522093172014-10-04T17:29:00.002-07:002014-10-04T17:33:12.239-07:00To All The "Mom-petitors" Out There....<br />
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This is something that has been weighing on my heart and my mind so heavily lately. I feel like it's everywhere I turn, and it has become an exhausting challenge to avoid it. </div>
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It's mom competition. I thought teenage girls were bad. Whoa. Moms take it to a whole new level. </div>
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It seems like there are so many women out there who just seem to think that they are doing this SO much better than anybody else. Or at least they want everyone to BELIEVE they are doing this so much better than anybody else. And it's breaking my heart that I associate with so many of them, and as a result, I have found myself in a deep, dark hole. Doubting myself as a mother, and as a woman. </div>
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I recently spent two weeks having slipped back into a state of depression that I haven't experienced since college. And for what? Because other women chose to make themselves feel better by making ME feel bad. And you know what? I let them. </div>
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I let them convince me that I wasn't good enough. I wasn't worthy of the beautiful life God has blessed me with. Above that, that I wasn't worthy of my two gorgeous boys. I let their voices be louder and stronger than God's. I let them take over my heart and get into my head in ways that NO mother ever should. I spent days crying, feeling defeated, feeling worthless, feeling like I had NO right to be a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a child of God. </div>
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I wasted two weeks. I let them win for two weeks. Not anymore.</div>
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So let me just be real. I'm not a sugar coater, a "everything is perfect" kind of gal. I tell it how it is. The good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly. I'm real. I don't like to lie and cover things up to make things look nicer. Who is that benefiting? Nobody. In fact, it would probably make other moms feel like crap suddenly because they think I have it all together and they don't. Well let me tell ya…..I don't have it all together. Not even close. Here's all the ugly.</div>
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My pregnancies aren't perfect; they're hard. Really, really hard. So no, I don't LOVE being pregnant. It's not my favorite season of life. There are parts I absolutely adore. Feeling my baby flutter. Watching him move around. Hearing his heartbeat. Seeing his face on ultrasounds. But there are other parts that are just downright hard. Getting shots weekly. Taking mountains of medication every day. Spending months in and out of the hospital. Is it worth it? Absolutely. Look what I got for it. But just because I wasn't glowing and telling everyone how amazing it is every single second, apparently means I'm not grateful. Wrong. I am SO grateful. So grateful for the miracles I have been blessed with. Grateful for the science that made it possible for me to carry those two babies as long as I did. Grateful for the experience because it made me realize THAT MUCH MORE how precious life is. I am so grateful. But I don't think it was all rainbows and butterflies. Sorry, not sorry.</div>
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I didn't breastfeed. Oh my God. Hold it. What? I'm a demon. I should burn in hell. Right? Wrong. I couldn't do it. Physically, my body couldn't do it. Emotionally, I couldn't do it. I beat myself up for MONTHS after each boy was born over the fact that I couldn't do it. I let myself feel like such a failure. And then I realized that my formula fed babies are just as loved, just as close to me, just as healthy. They're fine. We're all ok. And I was ok with it. And then I let other mothers make me feel bad again. Don't I know what they're missing out on? That's why they don't bounce back from colds as fast as others. They're never going to be as smart as that breast fed baby. STOP. None of that is true. And even if it was, so what?? I made a choice that was right for ME and for MY FAMILY. Just like you made the choices for yours. I don't criticize you for breastfeeding, that's insane. Part of me envies you. Other parts of me thank God that my husband could help with 3AM feedings when I just couldn't hold myself up anymore. I promise you, my boys are so fiercely loved, and that has NOTHING to do with where their food came from. </div>
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I vaccinate. Yep. Shoot 'em up with crazy things every few months. That's what is right for US. It's MY peace of mind that they are protected from ungodly illnesses. I trust the science behind them, and that's that. I don't think you're less of a mom if you don't vaccinate. I know how loved your babies are. I know that you're doing what you feel is best for them. I applaud you. Good for you! YOU'RE the mom, you make the call. Same applies to me. So stop telling me I'm poisoning my kids. I don't think I am. And I won't tell you that you're careless and crazy. Because I don't think you are. </div>
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My kid eats sweets. Cookies, cupcakes, ice cream. You name it. Does he do it every day? Nope. Does he live off of processed, high sugar, crap? Nope. But he does have it. Obviously more than some mothers approve of. That's ok. I'm letting him be a kid. I'm not going to deny him those things just because someone else shakes their head at it. And the subtle jabs in this department are insaaaaaaaane. I post a picture of my kid with a cupcake, another mom posts a picture of carrot sticks saying how sick she is of seeing pictures of kids and sweets. Ok. Then don't follow me. Because I'm not going to stop. My kids get three well balanced meals a day. Fruit with each, veggies with lunch and dinner. They are strong, healthy boys. Right at the 50th percentile for weight, 75th for height, and guess what…..their heads are above 90!!!! Who knows….maybe the vaccines and sugar are so poisonous that their heads are exploding. Or maybe they're just so damn smart from their formula that they're brains are HUGE. Or maybe that's just them. And none of the rest of that matters. </div>
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Did you know that there are preschools far superior to where I'm sending my child? And that it's important that I know that? Yeah, me neither. But I know now. This is the one that never phased me, for even a second. "Well MY kids school does THIS….." "His school doesn't do THIS?" My child ended up exactly where he is supposed to be. I am 120% certain. I'm more sure every time I drop him off and his teacher hugs and kisses him like he is her own. When he's so excited to go. When I get the chance to talk with the amazing women that I am now fortunate enough to call my friends. When I see him laughing and playing with his friends. When we are driving and he starts telling me about Jesus and how much He loves him. His school is perfect for HIM. I truly am SO glad that your child is in a school that you feel is the best. That really IS great. Every parent should have that feeling, and every child deserves that opportunity. So I'm SO happy for you. But please don't try to convince me that mine is inferior. It's not. Don't make me call the state and get scores. </div>
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And this is all just the MOM stuff. Don't even get me started on how I'm apparently horrible as a woman. I drink more pop than water. I don't run 4 miles every day. I dye my hair. I buy way too many clothes. I have been known to go through the drive thru. And use a can of "cream of something or another" as part of a recipe instead of going out back, wrangling the chicken, killing him, and cooking him up from scratch. I'm lucky if I get to shower every other day. </div>
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Go ahead and call me guilty of trying to make others feel worse. And I will PROMISE you, I would NEVER want that. I've been in that dark place. I would NEVER wish that upon anyone. When I post a video of my kid walking at 10 months, it's not because I want to rub it in your face that yours didn't walk until 18 months, or that I think he's better. Not at all. It's because I'm his MOM and I'm SO proud and excited for him (annnnnnd, a little terrified….TWO walking boys? AH!). When I say that my kid sings his ABC's from sun up to sun down, honest to God, NOT trying to brag. Really probably more like complain because you can only hear that song so many times. I'm learning which women in my life I can say these things to, and which I can't. The ones I can are always excited with me, or sympathize with my pain over the alphabet. The ones I can't need to one up me; need to make me realize that because their child was breastfed he can say his ABC's in Spanish, but only twice a day because that's more socially acceptable. And only when he's eating his daily servings of granola and mango.<br />
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But on the flip side of that.... I'll also post a picture of the entire box of rice that my kid spilled all over the kitchen floor, my other kid slipped in, now everyone is crying, and I'm wondering who the hell ever thought I was capable of raising two boys. Surely, someone is up there laughing at me. My point? I'm not just going to show you the good, amazing things. No, I'm going to show you the messy, ridiculous things too.</div>
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I will probably always compare myself to other women. I think it's just my nature. Someone will always be prettier. Be dressed better. Have better hair. Be more patient with her child. Seem like a better wife. I'm really trying to stop this cycle, but it seems inevitable. BUT. I'm slowly realizing that it's all ok. It's ok if she's prettier and has nicer clothes. Applaud her for finding the time to put herself together, and be ok with the fact that I chose to sleep for 10 extra minutes instead. It's ok if she's more patient with her child (and her husband). I love mine just the same. Stronger than anybody realizes. </div>
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Here's my point. Let's all just stop. Please. Every mother is doing her best. She really is. Just because her best doesn't look like your best, doesn't mean a DAMN THING. We're different. Aren't we all trying to teach our children that everybody is unique and different? And we should love them all the same? So why aren't we taking our own advice? </div>
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I'm such a strong believer that girls criticize, and women empower. Let's be WOMEN. For the sake of our sanity. And for our kids. And our husbands. </div>
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God made us to spread good and love. Not criticism and hatred. Not to make others feel like less, but to build them up. Motherhood can be lonely and isolating. Why make it harder? Look at that mother standing across from you and realize that she is going through the same things you are. She faces the same challenges, she wants the same things. Just because she goes about them differently does NOT make her unworthy.</div>
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And take a look at social media for what it's worth too. All those moms that seem perfect….they only post the pretty, never the ugly. Trust me, there's ugly too. And those same women are the ones quickest to make a statement about your ugly. That's ok. Be REAL. Show the ugly. But don't forget the pretty too. Let us NEVER forget that motherhood can be beautiful too. </div>
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The point of all this nonsense is this: NO mother is perfect. And trying to be MUST be exhausting. Just trying to be "good" is draining me. So to those of you who choose to put others down, and paint pretty pictures of yourselves, let me challenge you. Challenge you to take those walls down. Be REAL. Show your ugly. The rest of us aren't here to judge. We're here to say "we're all the same". You make people like me think a bad day is the worst thing in the world. I'm here to make people like you realize that I KNOW you have bad days too. So stop telling us all you don't. Just let it out. Cry if you have to. We're not going to judge. We're going to hug you. And tell you to let it go. Because we ALL need that sometimes. Including you "perfect" people. </div>
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Now….carry on. I'm about to go pick up my vaccinated, bottle fed crazy kid from his less than perfect preschool and bring him home to eat something sweet. Because he's cute. And I think he deserves it. </div>
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….And just for good measure….let's throw in some Garth Brooks. Because I heard this the other day in the car (on my way home from ordering TWO cakes for my son to smash to his hearts content in celebration of turning one….both laden with sugar), and it's kind of exactly what I'm trying to say here. Just in better tune and much more eloquently.</div>
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<i>People loving people,</i></div>
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<i>That's the enemy of everything that's evil</i></div>
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<i>Ain't no quick fix at the end of a needle</i></div>
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<i>It's just people loving people</i></div>
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<i>Words aren't what they seem to be</i></div>
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<i>Talk is cheap, but lies are free</i></div>
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<i>We fear what we don't understand</i></div>
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<i>We've been scared since time began</i></div>
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<i>All the colors and the cultures circle 'round us on a spindle</i></div>
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<i>It's a complicated riddle, but the solution is so simple</i></div>
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<i>It's people loving people</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-68107688462121557432014-08-30T07:29:00.005-07:002014-08-30T07:29:55.079-07:00Essential Oils<br />
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I'm dusting off my small corner of the internet because I have fallen into something amazing, and I've had a lot of questions about it, and this is the easiest way for me to let it all spill out. </div>
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Essential oils, y'all. </div>
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But first, let me make a few things clear. I'm not a doctor. I don't pretend to be a doctor. Don't ever take my word over that of a medical professional. Also, I'm the daughter of a pharmacist and the daughter in law of a nurse. I will NEVER completely cut modern medicine out of our lives. I will continue to vaccinate my children. I will continue to give antibiotics and fever reducers when necessary. I in no way believe that oils are going to cure every ailment we ever come across and we will never need anything other than them again. </div>
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Ok. Now that that's out there.</div>
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I AM amazed by oils and I AM sure you would be too if you gave them a try. </div>
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I kind of fell into oils by accident. I had seen and read a lot about them through blogs I follow and other accounts on social media. I was intrigued, so I was excited to attend a class about them. I was skeptical, but I took the plunge and bought the starter kit. You guys…..best decision ever. I got nine oils plus a diffuser….and I have used every single oil at some point and the diffuser is running in our home DAILY. </div>
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People keep asking me how I use them and if they REALLY work. Ummm yes. </div>
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Landon came down with croup….AGAIN. Every time he has a cold or ANYTHING, he seems to get croup at the end. Which usually results in at LEAST a trip to the ER for steroids and breathing treatments, and has ended in a hospital stay from dangerously low pulse ox levels. So naturally, as soon as I start to hear that hoarse bark, I panic. It started at 10:30 one night last week and Jeremy was ready to get dressed and head to the ER. I asked him to let me try something first, and if it didn't work, of course, we would get in the car and go, no questions asked. I rubbed Frankincense (seriously….a miracle oil) and Peppermint oil, in coconut oil, on his chest, throat and back. People…..the cough stopped within three minutes. Stopped cold. He fell asleep and we NEVER heard that bark again. WHAT!? How is that possible!? </div>
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Well…..croup is inflammation in the wind pipe / vocal chords. Frankincense is a NATURAL inflammatory. And peppermint helps open everything up. I am telling you, I was sold. 400%. I was in complete shock, and so was Jeremy, even though he still refuses to admit that these things just might be little miracle workers. </div>
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Another amazing testimony? My hair loss. It was bad, friends. I've written posts about it before, and after Luke was born, it took on a whole new level of craziness. I was at my wits end and nothing the dermatologist suggested was working. So I tried Cedarwood. I rub it in all my thinning (or BALD) areas before bed every night, and once a week, I add a few drops to my shampoo and let it sit on my head during my whole shower. Not only has my hairdresser asked what I've been doing, but the dermatologist herself was in shock when she saw how much new growth I have. I'm talking an inch and a half of hair on all my trouble spots. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you truly know how down I was about the struggle with the hair loss, you know how huge this is for me. And something so SIMPLE. And uh…cheap. My large bottle of Cedarwood that is probably going to last me a good 6 months was $11.25. Yep. And bonus: Cedarwood helps with sleep! So I rub it on at night and get new hair AND good rest! Winning!</div>
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These are just my two huge testimonies, but I have a million more small ones. A wart on my toe (so, so gross and no idea where it came from)….GONE. Thank you, Frankincense. Without freezing, cutting, anything. Just oil. The most stressful hour of our day (the witching hour….5-6pm, the last hour before Daddy gets home)….now peaceful and FUN thanks to diffusing Stress Away. Landon's craziness before bed and inability to calm down for at least an hour before falling asleep…..down to 15 minutes MAX thanks to Lavender and Peace & Calming. Stains on the leather in my parents motorhome that NOTHING would take off…..gone, thanks to Lemon oil. Ridiculous bug bites that would drive Landon crazy for a solid week….eased within a day by Purification. Strep ran rampant through both the boys a couple months back. We snuggled them, loved them, SHARED POPSICLES with them for two straight weeks. Jeremy and I came out unscathed….that's Thieves. Fevers that would be lessened but not broken by Tylenol or Advil….gone completely with Peppermint oil. Nasty stench in my washer and dishwasher? Disappeared with Purification. I could keep going….</div>
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And you guys….all of those oils (except the Cedarwood) came in my kit!! I was going to start off just buying a couple oils and see what happened….you have NO idea how glad I am that I just bit the bullet and bought the kit! I never would have known the power of these things, or how much I could change with them!</div>
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Honestly, there is an oil for ANYTHING. If you have something going on that you want to know about, ASK ME! I'll look it up and make sure you get something to do the job!</div>
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The next must haves on my list are DiGize which will help with stomach ailments (helloooooooo fear of puke), and Oregano which is another good one for germ fighting. I just stocked up on Thieves and Purification for the start of the school year as I send my baby off to preschool (!!!), because I can only imagine the kinds of germs that he'll be bringing home. I have a whole routine planned out using the oils, ask me if you want more information! </div>
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For the record….I am NOT a distributer of Young Living Oils (at least not yet), so I'm not trying to make myself any money off of this. I truly believe in them and what I've seen them do for our family, and I would LOVE if they helped someone else too. Even if you're skeptical, seriously, ask! I can make you a believer!! :)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-26879188519052969222014-01-01T09:16:00.000-08:002014-01-01T09:16:01.866-08:00Simplify<br />
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Happy New Year!! I hope everyone had a safe and fun New Years Eve, and is ready to welcome 2014!</div>
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Every year, I find myself making resolutions. And every year, I find myself swearing I'm going to keep them, and work really hard at them all year. Last year, I really did try to remind myself throughout the WHOLE year about my laundry list of resolutions, and I think I did a fairly good job at keeping them….most of them…..most of the time. </div>
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But this year, it all seems a little overwhelming. All these promises to make to myself, when really, all I want to do is get some sleep and keep my kids alive and happy through each day. Right now, anything else I accomplish is just icing on the cake. And most days…..not much more DOES get accomplished. </div>
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So….because of that, I've come up with ONE resolution, ONE word, to focus on in 2014. And I'm determined to make it work. </div>
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Simplify. </div>
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That's it. Just simplify. (I'm starting with the simplifying of my resolutions…..so far, so good). </div>
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I've been doing a lot of reflection since Lucas was born, and I'm realizing how overwhelmed and anxious I'm feeling about just about everything in my life. </div>
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Our house… I feel like we're packed in, and I'm overwhelmed by the amount of, for lack of better word, CRAP, that we have and we don't need. So I need to simplify. I need to purge and clean and organize. I always feel better in a clean, orderly house, so I need to get on it. Plus, I'm drowning in toys. I don't know what Santa was thinking when he bought so many toys with so many small pieces that he KNEW a certain 2 year old would never keep all together, and as a result, his mother would spend a huge chunk of her day just trying to count and pick up said pieces. Going to drive me to insanity. Get it together, Santa!!!</div>
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My "social media" accounts…. They're getting overwhelming. And it's a love-hate relationship that I have with them, which is really hard to work through on some days. In one respect, I love having Facebook and connecting with old friends, new friends, family I don't get to see often, and I love having that outlet to share photos and news about the kids with those that we don't get to see or talk to by other means. And I have found a community of moms on Instagram that I'm slightly obsessed with. I love seeing pictures of their kids, hearing stories, and getting their input on my own. I feel like we're all a close group of friends, even though we've never met. The encouragement and kind words are wonderful, and they're just what a mama needs some days. It's also nice to see their bad days, because it makes me realize I'm not alone. Who doesn't need that? But I find myself checking in on both of these far too often. And trying to pose my kids for superficial pictures because "that'll be cute to show everybody". {Just for the record, those superficial photos NEVER work out, so whatever you DO get to see, is just real life. What two year old and 8 week old are actually going to pose for their mother? Not mine.} But it's all getting to be too much. And I need to simplify. I need to stop worrying about what's going on with my friends cousins girlfriend's brother on Facebook, and start getting down on the ground more and playing with one of those toys with a million parts. I need to stop worrying about catching Luke's smile on camera, and just enjoy them when they come. What really matters is what's happening inside the walls of our own home, and our own hearts, not anywhere else. </div>
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My relationships…. Ok so this one isn't SO bad. In 2013, I truly did revaluate certain friendships, and tried to distance myself from any of the negativity and drama. And I'm proud to say that I did pretty good. Especially once I got pregnant. I realized how many more important things I had to worry about and focus on, than insincere friendships. And I found the friends that truly DO mean the world to me, and are always there, always care, and that quite frankly, I missed. And I focused on those, and I'm happier for it. There are certain relationships that I still need to work on, I still want to put forth more effort into, and I'll work on that in 2014, too. But mostly, I'm going to work on the relationships that are closest to me, and take up the most room in my heart, starting with my husband and kids. And that's simple in itself. All they want is to be loved and taken care of, and I can do that….without effort. </div>
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My life in general…. There are days when it all just feels crazy heavy, and I feel panicky. I'm not so unrealistic that I believe that I won't still have days like that. I have two kids, there are always going to be days when it's overwhelming. But on those days, I need to remind myself that laundry CAN wait, and the dishes in the sink don't HAVE to be cleaned right this second, and the house hasn't been vacuumed in two days? That's ok. And I don't want to go out and do that with those people? IT's ok to say no. Let's be honest, this will be the hardest one for me. My OCD can't handle a lot of those things. BUT, I'm hopeful that once the simplifying takes place on the house front, and things are more organized, and there's LESS, that it will come easier. That could be naive, but going along with one of my resolutions from LAST year, I'm trusting God and hoping that He'll show me the way to make it work, and to help me feel ok about it all. Because, yes, all of these things are enough to cause anxiety in and of themselves. </div>
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So… what this is all means, and that this might be my last post for a while. Then again, it might not be. But when I'm not here, and I'm not posting pictures and status updates, I'm busy enjoying my SIMPLE life with my beautiful boys. Lucas is already 8 weeks old. 8 WEEKS!!! He's becoming a little person. I'm being reminded every hour of how quickly it all goes, and how little time we really have to soak it up and enjoy it all. I don't EVER want to look back and have regrets, and have to say "I wish I would have set my phone down and enjoyed them more". Nothing is worth feeling that way. And why in the world do I feel the need to have every random person I'm "friends" with know what I'm doing at any given time? It's kind of weird, honestly. And who REALLY cares? Aside from my mom? And she knows what's going on all the time anyway, does she really need a Facebook status to tell her? Probably not. Although, she may argue otherwise. Sandra, you don't. I'll call you instead. </div>
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So my friends, I hope you have lofty goals for yourselves in 2014 too, even if it something simple. Because no matter how simple, change is always hard to execute, so congratulations if you're setting your mind to it, whether you accomplish it or not. And nobody says that your resolutions HAVE to be accomplished by December 31 of this year, I'm STILL going to work on my resolutions from last year, I know I haven't perfected them yet, but what matters is that I'm trying. And my "simplify" efforts will need to continue long past this year as well, but you've got to start somewhere, and I'm starting <b><i>here</i></b>. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-22532351753093959492013-12-08T09:18:00.000-08:002013-12-08T09:18:22.550-08:00Remember Me?Remember way back in the day when I used to blog? And I actually really enjoyed it? And then I suddenly fell off the face of the earth? And then I showed back up one Sunday and I was another kid richer? That's happening today.<br />
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So why exactly did I stop back in the summer? Well...things got crazy, for one thing. And it's a real long story, so I'm just going to give the short, edited version. On July 4th, I started having what felt strikingly similar to contractions. At only 21 weeks, that was obviously pretty unnerving. I downed my water, and tried to ignore them as we headed off to our annual family dinner and fireworks. But by the next day, it was obvious they weren't going to go away on their own, so we headed into Labor & Delivery, panic stricken. They hooked me up and confirmed that I was contracting, and did a fetal fibronectin test, which came back positive. For those of you who are lucky enough to never have had to worry about preterm delivery, it's a test that picks up a certain protein that is generally only present within two weeks before you deliver. A positive test means that you have a higher chance of delivering in the next two weeks, and a negative means you're probably good to go. Through all the drama and hospital stays with Landon, I never once had a positive. Never. But on July 5th, at 21 weeks, I got a positive with Lucas. And since the age of viability is 24 weeks, I was told pretty much just cross my fingers, say my prayers, and don't move too much.... there was nothing else they could do for me. And so we left the hospital in tears, thinking this was the end, and we had to just go home and wait for it all to come crashing down.<br />
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If you know the rest of the story, you know that I made it to my scheduled c-section at 39 weeks and 1 day. Ridiculous, right? A lot went down in between there, including a few more trips back to the hospital, an overnight stay, a LOT of progesterone shots and NST's, every day spent with my mother in law in the morning, and my mom in the afternoon, some weird reactions to medications and a lot of tears and frustration. But, at the end of it all, I was a staple at the doctor's office, closer to my mother in law, and I had a beautiful, healthy baby boy. And the cherry on top was that my two year old didn't completely hate me for being a big blob all summer long.<br />
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But the real point my return to this world is that I want to document Lucas' birth story, before all the details start to get blurry. Landon's was traumatic, and every second seems like it is just burned into my brain and will never leave. Lucas was a completely calm, peaceful experience, and I feel like small bits are already starting to fade as I adjust to life with two boys.<br />
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So around 34 weeks, my doctor told me we could officially schedule my c-section, and if I made it that far, great. If not, I was past the critical point and we knew would be safe. So we scheduled me for Wednesday, November 6 at 9:45 am, never thinking I would actually make it that far. I had this ideal dream of an October baby, but was petrified of a Halloween baby. So naturally, I was fairly certain he would show up on the 31st. But....October came and went, I passed my 35 week 4 day mark, which was when Landon was born, and pretty soon it was November and it was obvious that since I had made ZERO progress in over three weeks, I was going to make it to November 6th.<br />
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The night of November 5th was a surreal one. It was our last night as a family of three. The last night I would be tucking Landon in as an only child. The last night I would be struggling to sleep with the now GINORMOUS belly. I cried when I put Landon to sleep, lingering next to his bed, holding his hand for just a bit longer, taking in every ounce of him. And I was grateful that it took him a little longer to drift off. When I finally tore myself away, it's safe to say that I maybe slept for 20 minutes the whole night. How do you sleep when your life is about to change so monumentally in just a few short hours? You don't. Not if you're actually putting any thought into it at all.<br />
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When the alarm when off at 4:45, I knew there was no turning back. This was it. So I got up and showered, and did my hair and my make up (ridiculous most of you will say, but to me, I knew it was the last time for a long while that I would have the chance to do this, so I was going to live it up.....and look much better in post birth pictures than I did in Landon's). Of course, Landon isn't stupid, and he heard us both up, so we had a 2 year old up and joining the party at 5:15. But again, secretly, I was thrilled....I couldn't stand the thought of him waking up and us not being there and then when he did finally see us again, his whole world would be changed. So the 5:15 wake up was welcome, and the early morning snuggles were exactly what I needed.<br />
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It's strange, but I wasn't nervous at all. Maybe a little anxious, but I think it was more just excitement to finally meet him, not so much worried about the surgery. Which, after Landon, it was kind of amazing to me that I had such a sense of calm going into it, but I did. I was confident with the doctor delivering me, and something was just telling me it was all going to be ok. I don't know which of my angels it was, but I'm thankful they were there. Shockingly, I didn't even cry when leaving Landon. We got our hugs and kisses, told him we were going to meet baby brother, he told us he was excited, and we were off. Everyone was just....ready. And happy.<br />
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We walked into the hospital together, calmly, in no real hurry. Checked in, relished in all the congratulations and "good lucks" we were wished, and made our way up to Labor & Delivery. We were thrilled to find that our favorite nurse was there, and she was taking me. She would be with me through pre-op, the surgery, and recovery. Any anxieties I had lingering at that point disappeared. Everything was lining up. </div>
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The whole pre-op process is kind of chaotic. There are a ton of people coming in and out, taking blood, asking questions, making you sign things, telling you things, overwhelming you. But still, I felt good with Jeremy, my parents and my nurse by my side. I was thrilled when the doctor finally came in, talked to me for a few minutes and told me we were about ready. This was it. And just after 9:45 am, I kissed my parents goodbye, watched Jeremy get suited up, and walked myself down to the operating room. That's when it started to get real. </div>
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Operating rooms are never calming. Ever. They're stark and they're scary. Thankfully, I had a group of women in the room with me that was hilarious, and we clicked well. I laughed through getting my spinal while my doctor held my hand and told me jokes. The anesthesiologist and I had an understanding, and she loaded me up with anti-nausea meds every time I started to feel a little woozy. And my nurse was right there to continually assure me that I was doing fine. If you've never had a spinal, then you don't know how weird it is to suddenly look down and see people maneuvering your legs and realizing you can't feel a thing, like you're just a torso and head laying on a table. THAT freaked me out. Not a fan. But....hey....better than feeling them slice me open, I suppose. </div>
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It didn't take long, and pretty sure Jeremy was back next to me, and they told me it was go time. My only job was to lay there and wait for them to tell me I was officially a mother of two. It felt like an eternity laying there waiting. I know my stomach is huge, but come on, how long can it take you to get to this kid? And then suddenly my doctor looked over the drape and told me they were about a minute away. Holy crap. One minute. In one minute my second son would be here. And I am not screaming in pain, or exhausted from pushing for 4 hours. This is amazing. And sure enough, about a minute later, at 10:22 am, I heard his first screams. Beautiful, gorgeous screams. They held him up for just a second and I got to finally see the face I had been praying for and loving for 39 weeks. And he was damn gorgeous. </div>
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Lucas Michael Teltow</div>
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November 6, 2013</div>
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10:22 AM</div>
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7lbs, 7oz. 20 inches. </div>
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And just like that, we went from a family of three, to a family of four. Another very surreal feeling. </div>
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Because he was born via C-Section, he had some fluid on his lungs that didn't quite get squeezed out, so my fears came to fruition when they whisked him off to the special care nursery. I had this vision in my head that since I made it to 39 weeks, I would have him with me from start to finish and we wouldn't have to see another child hooked up to monitors and IV's. No such luck. But once again, we were so fortunate, and anything "wrong" with him was minor, and our stay in special care was short lived, and by Friday afternoon, we had him in the room with us. </div>
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Next came some lessons. Things they don't tell you about when you have a C-Section. The spinal will take HOURS to wear off. And you will feel certain that you are paralyzed for life when they ask you to move your toes, and you realize your brain can't even compute how to tell your toes to move, let alone actually make them move. The morphine they give you will make you itch like crazy. And you will continue to itch, especially your face, for hours. You will swell. And I mean.....swell. Like crazy. So crazily that you won't even recognize yourself. Case in point....</div>
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But on the flip side, there are the side effects of becoming a mother of two that people don't warn you about. There is more swelling. Of the heart. Way bigger than any bodily swelling you'll experience. When people say you don't realize that your heart can love another human as much as you already love your first, they aren't lying. But it's a completely different kind of love. The love I have for Landon can't really be explained....he made me a mom. He taught me everything. That's not the same love I have for Lucas. Lucas completed me. I thought was complete, but I wasn't. I thought our family was perfect, but we were missing something. Now we aren't. That's pretty big stuff for such a small little dude. But he manages to pull it off well. </div>
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The first few days were challenging. I had hormones to deal with, I was missing Landon, I was in pain, I wanted Lucas with me, I was struggling with breastfeeding and all the emotions that go along with it (that's a post for another day), and um.....having a baby is just a lot in general. But we had a small birthday party for him, per Landon's request, and there were lots of visits from my favorite two year old to pull me through. </div>
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We finally made it home three days later, and life officially began. Landon fell right into the role of big brother perfectly. He has been wonderful. He has his moments of desperation for our attention, but he is such a great helper, and he truly loves his brother, which makes it all worth it. </div>
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As for me....life as a mother of two is intense. It's non-stop chaos. But it's also non-stop love. I am running on fumes most days it seems, but neither of my boys seem to notice. And they love me just the same after a full nights sleep, or only a few hours. And the feeling is mutual. Although.....I do have a slightly higher appreciation when Luke will go for a four hour stretch in the middle of the night ;). </div>
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I don't know how frequently I'll be back here to update on every day happenings, but I do have a lot of things I want to write about, and this little session here has been incredibly therapeutic. I snuck out this morning to a local coffee shop, and I'm sitting here with a coffee in hand, by the fireplace, listening to Christmas music, and writing. And for the first half hour or so, I was trying to decide if I was proud of myself for taking the time to do it, or if I was guilty for not being at home with my boys. I'm thinking now that it's the first. I'm about to head home refreshed....which means I'll have more patience with terrible two happenings and spit up. So this might have to become a ritual. It's a nice recharge. </div>
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So, until the next time, I'll be with these dudes, loving life. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-84421033105500047132013-05-16T04:02:00.001-07:002013-05-16T04:09:10.202-07:00The Trials (and Errors) of Being a MamaThis parenting business is tricky stuff. And it's no secret that I feel like I'm screwing up daily. I have this phenomenal support system that takes every opportunity they can to remind me that all parents feel that way, and that I'm actually <i>not</i> ruining my kids life. I am so beyond grateful for them, and I know that some days, those reminders are what get me through.<br />
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But...there are always those moments. Those decisions. That you look back on and you think, "WHAT!?". I've had a couple of those lately. And I've taken my time to feel down and awful about them, and now I'm onto the next phase. The phase of "Ok, it happened, we fixed it, I still live and breathe for Landon, and he still loves me. Let's move on."<br />
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Case study #1? A traumatic case of croup and a hospital stay. While in my deepest core of common sense I know that I didn't do anything to make him sick, there is still a very large part of me that is screaming, "But you didn't keep him healthy!!!". And that part....well she's a real bitch. I was so embarrassingly proud of the fact that we all got through the winter without <i>really</i> being sick. A cold was the worst of what hit us, and it was so minor, that it's almost not even worth mentioning. I somehow got my kid through the one of the worst "puking seasons" I've heard of in a loooong time, unscathed. I was amazed. I had this crap under control. Hand sanitizer, lots of wiping down surfaces, and basically being hermits.....that's the ticket. But....spring came, and brought with it warmer weather, and I got too confident. Yes, we still washed our hands and wiped down the grocery store carts. But I didn't think twice about putting him in the swing at the park, and going out to eat just didn't seem like that big of a deal anymore. And, sure enough, a rash turned into a fever, that turned into a cough, that turned into the worst 72 hours of my life.<br />
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Long story short, a couple weeks ago, we noticed a rash on Landon after playing outside all day. We figured it was either heat rash, or some random reaction to his sunscreen, and didn't think much about it. That night, he spiked a fever. He woke up the next morning with an insignificant cough, but the fever was higher and the rash was worse, so we went to urgent care. Did a strep test, came back negative. Determined he had an ear infection and a viral rash that would clear up on its own. Satisfied with that answer, we headed home. By late that evening, the fever was through the roof and the cough had become that unmistakable "seal bark". We tried everything to get him through the night so we could go and see our doctor Monday morning. Steam, cold air, snuggles, popsicles, everything. But around 1:30, his lips started turning blue, and it was a whole different ball game. Two breathing treatments, a round of steroids and several hours in the ER later, his oxygen levels were still way too low, so we were admitted to the hospital. At this point, I had to watch them hook my baby up to oxygen, load him onto a gurney, and I had to follow an ambulance down to St. John's Main. Yes, he was with his father and I knew he was ok, but still.....that had to be the worst feeling in the world. Following behind this ambulance, not knowing how he's doing at that very moment, knowing that we are about to be admitted to the pediatric floor and not knowing what would come next. Yes, most kids come out of croup fine, he did before, when he was 6 months old. But this time was different, this was serious, and every horrible thought I could possibly have was going through my mind. There is no way around it, I was a complete mess, who hadn't slept in 24 hours. We spent the <i>next</i> 24 hours trying to comfort a scared, miserable little boy, while nurses and doctors tried comforting us. I had to listen to countless people tell me to go home and sleep, that the baby needed me to. I had to then tell those people countless times that they were out of their damn mind if they thought I was leaving my hospital gown clad toddler and going anywhere. So I stayed awake for another 24 hours, truthfully, not even thinking about what I was doing, just watching his numbers on the monitor, and watching his chest rise and fall, and listening for any sign of him struggling to breathe. By that 48 hour mark, I don't think tired was even registering on my radar anymore. Thankfully, after one full night of monitoring, they let us go home. He was much better, but still not himself, and it would take days until he was. We came home on Tuesday, and it was Friday morning before the crazy kid I know was back. Of course, he came back right as I was being struck down with whatever insane virus had attacked him. It's now the following Thursday, and I can finally say that I feel like I can rejoin the human race today. Amen!<br />
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Moral of the story? It's going to happen, he's going to get sick. God forbid it ever gets that bad again, I will be a complete and utter disaster of a person once more. But I didn't do it to him. I couldn't stop it. At the end of the day, I listened to my mama gut, got him where he needed to be, and I did the only thing I could.....I didn't leave his side, I loved him, I let him know it was ok, and he knew he wasn't alone. Maybe I shouldn't have been sobbing uncontrollably alongside him when we were holding him down for breathing treatments, maybe seeing him in a teeny tiny hospital gown shouldn't have made my heart break into a million pieces. But....that's me. It hurt him, so it hurt me. In the end, as a mama, I did ok.<br />
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Case study #2? The damn toddler bed. We got a positive pregnancy test back at the beginning of March, and my mind went into overdrive. Oh my God....he needs to be potty trained, and out of the crib.....NOW. We only have 9 months. It needs to happen NOW. Well <i>now</i> I'm stepping back and doing that "What???" thing.<br />
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We nearly immediately switched his room, put him into the old office room, and put him in a toddler bed. That had been the plan all along. When baby #2 came, they would go in the green room, boy or girl, so we could avoid painting, and Landon would get the blue room. Yeah, well, I don't think the plan was to traumatize us all at once. Quite honestly, he did awesome the first week or so, he truly did. But then he got sick, and he was in the hospital, and he refused to sleep without being held. Cue the last week. He has refused to stay in bed, he doesn't fall asleep until nearly 11, and then is up at 6:30, and he's miserable. All.day.long. If he's not sleeping, it means we're not sleeping, and it has all just been basically awful. I have done countless hours of research on how to make this easier, and in the end, it all came down to one truth: he's just not ready. He's still a baby, let's be honest. And he's just not there yet. So what the hell was I doing? I have no idea. Trying to save us money by not having to buy a new crib for a new baby? Stupid. Needless to say, after a long talk, his crib was moved into his new room last night (and yes, he went right to sleep at 8:30, and slept through the night), and today, we'll move the rest of his "old" furniture in as well. The baby will get the green room, but it'll get new furniture, and Landon will keep HIS. And he can stay in his crib for as long as he needs to, and I can soak up the fact that my two year old isn't a COMPLETE "big boy" yet.<br />
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Moral of THAT story? I made a mistake. I pushed him too far, too soon, for no reason. And yes, I feel silly and pretty awful about it now. But, we're fixing it, and we're making it right again. That's all we can do. I can't go back in time and change everything, or I would. I could sit and sulk and cry and beat myself up over it, but what will that do? Not much. What matters is that we figured it out, and he's feeling comfortable, safe, and well rested again. That's a win.<br />
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And now we're into panic mode with his birthday party this weekend. Jeremy has had the whole week off, thank God, because I have been useless while I fought off this sickness, but we haven't gotten nearly as much done as we wanted to have done by Thursday morning. So today, after a hot shower to wash off any remnants of the "grossies", I'm off, to tackle the last minute needs of a two year olds birthday party. And, most importantly, I will make sure that he has the best damn Diego party I can give him. This ain't gonna be no "case study #3", kids.<br />
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Oh...and lastly....I felt baby's flutters for the first time yesterday. One of the upsides of being stuck in bed and not able to move. It's amazing how much you forget about that feeling when it's no longer there. But let me tell ya.....it's pretty damn cool. And this bambino can flutter to its hearts content, mama is soakin' it up.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-50804116219242141112013-05-03T13:44:00.002-07:002013-05-03T16:11:47.087-07:00Stop and Smell the Roses....errr....DandelionsLife with an almost two year old is a little.....hectic. Emotional. Bipolar, really. Add to it pregnancy hormones, and those around me, specifically my husband, probably deserve a medal of honor.<br />
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Although.....Tuesday marked the end of my first trimester (and I loved that it fell on my bestie's birthday....there was just a whole lot to celebrate that day), the weather has FINALLY turned beautiful, and I do actually think that the second trimester brought with it a batch of feel good hormones. I've found myself more patient, happier, and just generally lighter, the last few days.<br />
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But that doesn't change that I still live with a small monster, that wants to test me every minute of the day. This week has been a whirlwind of great moments for Landon, and really, really awful moments. I could just write about the good ones, but that would portray us as this perfect, always happy, always together little family....which we are NOT.<br />
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Wednesday night, Jeremy decided to take Landon to a soccer game. In all fairness, I feel like his expectations for Landon's behavior may have been a little too high. He should have known the wiggle worm would never sit in the stands without argument and watch high school girls kick a ball around. However, I still know that he witnessed the utter mess that Landon can become....you know....the mess that I'm always telling him about, but he never seems to be around to see. Yes, well. They came home about an hour later, and I could hear Landon's screams before he even opened the car door. Jeremy looked like he had just run a marathon, and he was just beside himself. I listened as he told me all about how he threw himself on the ground, walked over a woman's north face jacket, screamed when Jeremy tried to pick him up. I know he wanted a lot of sympathy, but really, I couldn't help but laugh. Especially when he told me, "No, you don't understand. He was awful". Oh, I don't understand? No, but I do. This meltdown is equivalent to the ones that I have sat and cried over at the dinner table. The ones that happen in the middle of Target, or in a restaurant. The ones that my dear, sweet husband always tells me, "He's two. He doesn't know any better. It's ok. He'll get better." So I said those same words to him. Funny enough, they weren't much comfort.<br />
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He was embarrassed. And I get it, totally. The funk hung around him for the rest of the night and into the next morning, despite our sweet, loving Landon having returned. My hope is that the lesson behind this is that the next time <i>I'm</i> mortified and frustrated, he <i>gets</i> it. I'm probably asking for a lot, but my fingers are crossed.<br />
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That day was followed by yesterday, when that ugly creature didn't rear his head at all. I had a perfect toddler all day. We played outside, we went for walks, we watered our seeds, we read books, we took a three hour nap, we ate all three meals PERFECTLY, and we ended our day with a wagon ride with Daddy. He went right to sleep, never got out of bed during the night. All in all....he really did have a "perfect" day. He has those days.....where he really does seem like he might bypass the terrible twos.<br />
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But those days are always followed by days where we are reminded that no, he will not skip over them. He will land right in them, really sink into them, and who knows how long they'll last.<br />
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Today was....an in between. There was a lot of whining about nothing this morning. But he was phenomenal in Kohl's and Michaels during our errands. He wasn't happy when I told him we had to come in to eat lunch, and he threw himself on the ground and kicked and hit. But, he ate his whole lunch, and then fell asleep on our walk afterwards. He took a short nap, but woke up with a smile on his face and a hug for me and a kiss for baby.<br />
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So we went to the park. And I made a decision. Just him and I were going to the park. Not my phone. I wasn't going to wait for the perfect moment to snap a picture that would be great on Instagram. I didn't want to follow him around waiting for a cute face to share on Facebook. No. I wanted it to just be about him and me. So we swung on the swings. We went down the slides. We climbed the huge sled hill (and ran down) three excruciating times. He stopped to smell every single dandelion in a field of dandelions. He ran the bases on the baseball field. He was thrilled. And he was....again....perfect. He listened wonderfully, he laughed, <i>he</i> reached up and grabbed<i> my</i> hand while we were walking the trail. He kissed me, he said "Mommy!" with such glee. My heart exploded at that park. And I was so grateful that I made it just about us. In 6 months, it won't be "just us 2" anymore. There'll be another little bug hanging around, so I need to savor every moment of "just us" that I can. And today I did. Until it was time to strap him in his carseat.<br />
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He walked to the car perfectly. I told him we would go home and have a popsicle, and he kept chanting "opseeecle, opseeeecle". Picked up and put him in his seat, and that happy child disappeared, and out came that monster. There was kicking, there was screaming, I was even slapped across the face. I assured him that he would not be coming back to the park if that's how he acted, and he proceeded to kick his DVD player off the seat, to what I was sure was its demise (I'm happy to report, that the monster got INCREDIBLY lucky, and didn't break it). There were crocodile tears all the way home. And I felt myself starting to get angry, but those feel good pregnancy hormones must be little heroes, because they stopped me. Instead, I was thankful for the hour we just spent together. For the laughter and the happy. And I reminded myself that these tantrums are going to come, but they are far outweighed by the good. And I somehow managed to calmly (me, not him) get him in the house and let him finish his fit, which included some books being thrown. Sure enough, once he got it all out of his system, in an instant, that happy boy was back. Crawling onto my lap, giving me hugs and saying "orry Mama".<br />
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The thing is, he knows when he's being bad. And he knows how to behave better. But, just like his mother, in the heat of the moment, it doesn't matter. He's upset, and he has to just get it out. I know how that feels.....needing to just "get it out". So I let him do it. Because it never fails, that once he's done, he appreciates having had the chance to scream and be sad, and I get the reward for it. The hugs, the kisses, the "orry"'s, and the "love ya"'s. And those are so much more important than stressing out over the screaming.<br />
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Does that mean I will gladly let him throw a fit in the middle of Target if he doesn't get his way? <i>Hell to the no.</i> But it means I will let him feel upset. Feel anger, and sadness. I won't just give in and give him his way to make him always be happy. It's a part of life, and he is learning that he isn't <i>always </i>going to get exactly what he wants. I'm praying (hard), that with time, he finds better ways to express those emotions, but in the meantime....he's two. And this is what he does. And we aren't going to change him, I wouldn't want to. So we're going to roll with it. And we're going to learn from it. And <i>we're all going to be ok. </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">By the way...the other peanut, the small one inside, is doing phenomenal. But it's already taking a hint from its older brother, and is very stubborn. It hid from the poor ultrasound tech for <i>forever</i> on Wednesday, and it likes to hide from me every time I try to find it with my doppler. But when we do find it, it's adorable, with a perfect heartbeat. And really.....that's what counts. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-80134633985992525482013-04-24T13:02:00.002-07:002013-04-24T13:02:37.495-07:00The Secret Is Out!Again....I haven't forgotten about this corner of the internet. But when trying to keep a major secret, the last thing I need to do is start writing. It's sure to come out.<br />
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I have gotten asked so many times why we didn't say anything about baby #2 the second the test turned positive. And we did....to some. Our parents, Jeremy's brothers, my best friend, my cousin.....my DOCTOR.....all got calls or text messages the instant we knew. Slowly, we let other people in, close friends, other family members, but for the most part, it's been our little secret.<br />
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We're cautious. We have watched people lose pregnancies. We've watched the hurt of going back and telling every person they know that it didn't stick. It's such a personal thing, such a heartbreak, and while I am an open book, there are certain things that I don't need every member of my high school class to know about. Not everyone needs in on that pain. But of course, if God forbid something did happen, we would need support. So our families and our closest friends knew right away.....they're our rocks.<br />
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On the flip side, it's such an exciting thing, it's nearly impossible to keep inside. And I have been wanting to shout from the roof tops since the day we found out. And as much as you want to be positive, and believe that everything will just be fabulous and perfect, I'm also a realist who knows that it doesn't always work that way. I went through hell to get Landon into this world.....an incredibly hard, long 8 months, followed by a miserable birth experience. During his pregnancy, I found out so many things about myself, my body, and my health, and those things make eternal optimism rather difficult.<br />
<br />
Point blank, myself, and two of my cousins, have a blood clotting disorder. This nasty, mutated gene that we have, can cause a clot to travel to the baby, and cause a miscarriage. I watched my cousin go through it three heartbreaking times. When I was first pregnant with Landon, I demanded to be tested right away, to avoid going through the pain I watched her go through. My first doctor refused, and I switched. When I finally got to a doctor that would test me, I tested positive.....which meant had I NOT been tested, Landon might not be here today. I was insanely fortunate with him. We did what we had to do, and I got a healthy baby out of the deal. But every pregnancy is different, so every pregnancy brings a new set of fears and anxieties.....especially about what is going on inside your body.<br />
<br />
This time around, I am with the single most incredible doctor I know. She knows me, she knows my story, she knows what I need, and most importantly.....she knows what I need <i>emotionally</i>. I feel exponentially better about this go around, just because I have her on my side. It's a huge relief.<br />
<br />
All of that being said, anything can still happen. But we chose to look at all the positives of the past 11 weeks. So far.....this pregnancy has been completely different. I feel sick SO much more often, but the BIG things, have all gone smoothly. All my initial blood work came back flawless, which is insane for me. My doctor even told me she read over it 3 or 4 times, sure she had to be missing something that was off. But NOTHING was. Hurdle number one crossed. Our first ultrasound, even though incredibly early in the game, showed us a small little kidney bean, with a beating heart. Hurdle number two crossed (For those that don't remember, Landon's first ultrasound didn't show a heartbeat, and we were told the pregnancy may not be viable). And each subsequent ultrasound has shown a growing, gorgeous little person with a strong heart rate and last time, two legs and two arms that were waving.<br />
<br />
We're having a <i>baby</i>.<br />
<br />
And every single day, that still blows my mind. We were blessed <i>again</i>. Our luck is immeasurable.<br />
<br />
I thought the second go around would be different, emotion wise. I've been through this, the heartbeat is cool, but it's not like it's my <i>first</i> growing child inside me. No. So wrong. It's the <i>same exact</i> feeling. We made another life. It's such a fragile, precious miracle, that it is such an incredible blessing to have it ONCE. But twice? Someone up there really, really loves us.<br />
<br />
And this time around? I get to see Landon watch it all. He points at the ultrasound pictures and says "Baby"; he kisses my belly goodnight every night; when we ask him if he wants a brother or a sister, he tells us he wants a cow (yep....daily). It's already amazing to see him.....I cannot imagine the feeling I will have when I see him HOLD his baby brother or sister. Kiss its cheeks. Share his toys. Comfort it when it cries. If anything, the emotions are even HIGHER this time.<br />
<br />
So we're starting the journey again. We're still nervous, we're still on God's plan, and only he knows what this baby will be, and if this baby will make it to us. But today, we're choosing to believe that yes, it will. This is the tiny soul our family is missing, and we cannot wait to welcome it.<br />
<br />
We are SO thankful for all of your well wishes and congratulations. It's wonderful to know that you are all as excited as we are. And for those of you in the "inner loop".....you've been amazing.....and thanks for keeping your mouths shut ;) Well....except you Dad.....I've been hearing that most of Port Huron has known for a while now. But hey, an excited Papa can't be blamed. And we LOVE that you're that excited.<br />
<br />
As for what's been happening while we've been doing all this secret keeping? I've been feeling....well....like crap. Much worse than with Landon. Landon's could be described as "occasional bouts of nausea that passed quickly". This kid can be described as "all day, every day misery, broken up with occasional urgent cravings that need to be satisfied RIGHT THIS MINUTE". Zofran and I have become very good friends. As have me and pretzels, lemonade, Olga's Snackers, Chicken Ceaser Pitas, and McDonald's french fries and chocolate shakes. And one night after dinner, an entire package of cinnamon rolls. Hey man, baby wants what baby wants.<br />
<br />
I've been laced with so much mommy guilt for the days spent just laying on the couch and not doing much to entertain Landon. Fortunately, he's been great. We do a lot of snuggling, watching Diego, and reading. And I am soaking up every single second of life with just one child. Savoring every inch of him. That makes all the sickies seem worth it.<br />
<br />
However, the Michigan weather is making for a very bored, stir crazy toddler, and this mama can't blame him. We've been teased with a few beautiful days, and we spend every second we can outside. Spring and Summer have to be coming eventually....right??<br />
<br />
In other news, he's officially in his new "big boy" room and "big boy" bed. The transition, so far, has been harder on me and my mama heart than on him. Last night was our first rough night, and I'm sure we're in for more. But as I was laying on his cold, hard floor, trying to reason with him why 4am was NOT a good time to be awake, I kept telling myself that this won't last forever. Just like his waking up every 2 hours didn't, or any of the other precious newborn things. So I need to cherish it now, when Mommy sleeping on the floor next to your bed is still "fun".<br />
<br />
We're also planning a Diego birthday party, because as crazy at it is, this little dude will be TWO in just 25 days. THAT is insane. But it has been so much fun watching him get into this year. Helping pick out decorations, telling everybody he's having a "pawty" with "Deeeeaygo" because he'll be "TWO!". But it DOES still feel like we were just telling everybody that I was pregnant with HIM. I'm still wondering why the years WITH the babies fly so fast, yet the time being PREGNANT with them goes SO slow? It's a weird time warp thing that I'm reeeeeeally not a fan of.<br />
<br />
We went camping with my parents a couple weekends ago to test out their new motorhome.....which is beyond gorgeous. It was rainy and cold, and kind of miserable weather wise, but Landon was ENTIRELY into it. I cannot wait to take him this summer and let him get the full effect. He would have stayed outside jumping in puddles all day, every day if he could have convinced someone to stay out there with him. But taking trips to the campground store with Papa was the highlight of his day, and swimming was maybe his favorite thing ever. Just goes to show, again, what a little person he's becoming. And....he is ALL boy.<br />
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Other than that, we've just been here, hiding out, trying to conceal my growing stomach and avoid the last traces of winters illnesses traveling around. But it's a huge relief to say that I don't have to hide the pooch anymore, and hopefully the cold weather is headed out, and the beautiful spring will coincide with the end of my miserable first trimester! THAT will be a beautiful day.<br />
<br />
**Edit: As I was finishing this up, my beautiful boy sat up from his nap, leaned back and fell out of bed for the first time. To which.....he laughed. Thank ya, Jesus!**<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-49293216751653322012013-03-26T12:49:00.001-07:002013-03-26T12:49:40.462-07:00Rock Your RedThis is no doubt about to be a controversial post, so let me preface it by saying this:<br />
<br />
I support gays and marriage equality.<br />
I believe in God.<br />
<br />
If you disagree with me, but believe that everybody is entitled to their own beliefs and thoughts, then please, feel free to continue reading.<br />
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If you disagree with me, and believe that I am an advocate for the devil's work and am spreading sin, then please click out of this window right now. We have nothing else to discuss.<br />
<br />
I have a friend. My first friend in this world. A boy. Believes in God. Liked to give me scars and beat up on me. Always had my back. Would play the husband when we played house, and on one of my all time favorite home videos, says the words, "Honey....will you please hand me the coffee cup?". Would have wars with me in my basement with our cassette players: his playing Michael Bolton, mine playing Barry Manilow (hey....we were children of the 80's). Would also fight with me over who got to carry the hot pink purse when we played dress up.<br />
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In high school, my friend confirmed what most of us had long believed; he is gay. And that day, I knew that I had a job to support him and love him more than ever. That was also the day that I formed a belief system on the entire "gay topic", that I refuse to waiver from.<br />
<br />
Do I believe, for even a second, that at 5 years old, he had the mind set to "choose" to have a natural inclination to want to the hot pink purse? Do I think that at 16, he "chose" to be ridiculed, criticized, taunted, bullied, <i>hated</i>? Do I think that today, at 28, he wakes up every morning and "chooses" to go against what society says is "right"? No. Not for even a millisecond do I believe any of those things.<br />
<br />
Instead, I believe that the God that both him and I believe in, made him exactly how he wanted him. And HE chose to make him gay. And by doing that, he gave me a person that I admire, love, and respect more than most straight people in this world. My friend is a beautiful, amazing person. So is his boyfriend. And they have a relationship that is more solid, loving and REAL, than so many of the "conventional" relationships I know. And it really, really drives me insane, when I hear anybody tell me that they aren't entitled to that relationship.<br />
<br />
I go to church. I read the Bible. I love and trust God. And just like I believe that God made my friend the way he is, I believe He made me to love and support him. I don't think God makes mistakes. And I certainly don't believe my friend is one.<br />
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You don't have to agree with me, you don't have to believe the same things I believe. But, if you are as Christian as some of you claim to be, you will listen and respect me. My own husband and parents don't share my same set of beliefs. But....my parents watched me and my friend grow up together, and they love him. My husband knows how strongly I feel, and welcomed my friend into our wedding party....because he likes HIM.<br />
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My question is this.....so you believe in marriage being solely for a man and a woman. How does the marriage of two men REALLY effect YOU? It doesn't. You still get to marry YOUR choice of human. Nobody is taking that away from you. You still get to believe exactly what you want, nobody is taking THAT away from you. What I would LOVE to take away from you is your pure and utter hatred, because THAT isn't ok.<br />
<br />
Do you hate that man because he's black? No, because he didn't choose to be born black, and then you'd be racist. Do you hate that woman because she has cancer and can't pay her bills? No, because she didn't choose either of those things, and you'd be a pretty evil person. So why does being "christian" allow you to hate my friend for loving another man? For the life of me, I can't see how it does.<br />
<br />
I know a few people who will read this, probably "de-friend" me, and for the rest of their lives, look down on me. That's ok. If that's how you feel because I love without boundaries and exceptions, then I don't really need your approval anyway. And I don't need my son knowing that kind of hate. Because I am raising him to see the world as a beautiful place. Where people can be whoever they are, without shame or guilt.<br />
<br />
I also know a few people who have chosen to just not discuss this topic with me, my father included. Because we will never see eye to eye. And I will NEVER back down on how I feel. And those same people know that if they make a rude, uneducated, hateful remark, I WILL blow. I don't sit back and let that slide, and I DO get angry. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and beliefs, absolutely, but that doesn't entitle ANYONE to harbor hate.<br />
<br />
After a particularly ugly episode with my father and husband on this subject, I asked my counselor why I get SO heated. I believe a LOT of things, but they don't drive me to such anger, and tears, when someone disagrees with me. And she hit the nail on the head. I sat back and listened to people say things when my friend came out. I let them say evil, hurtful things. And for the most part, I didn't say a damn thing. Because I didn't want them to think <i>I</i> was gay. I didn't want them to hate <i>me</i>. I never joined in on the rude remarks, but I never stopped them either. I realize I was young, and a high schooler, and it was probably a natural reaction at 15. But now, it doesn't seem natural at all. And it <i>kills</i> me. Kills me that I didn't stand up and tell them all how absolutely ridiculous they are. How wonderful of a person he is. Kills me that I just let it all go because I was afraid of how <i>I</i> would look, while one of my very best friends was hurting. Makes me sick, actually. And now, I refuse to EVER let someone make me feel bad about supporting him, or for believing what I believe. I owe it to the person who would walk through fire for me, to do the same for him.<br />
<br />
At the end of the day, I could sit here and rant for hours. Fill this post with studies and statistics, but I don't need to. Because I believe what I believe. And I'm not here to force you to feel the same way. I'm just here to say that today, and every day, I support marriage equality, and I pray (to GOD) every night, that one day, I'll be able to watch my dear friend marry the love of his life, and that I'll get to watch them have a family (oh yeah, I'm totally cool with that too, if you hadn't already guessed). Why? Because they deserve it. More than most. They have a love that deserves to be celebrated every day. They are PEOPLE that deserve to be celebrated every day. Just like you. Just like me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-55499791445938001972013-03-11T07:07:00.000-07:002013-03-11T07:13:04.346-07:00Drama, Drama, DramaOnce again, no, I haven't not given up on this little blog. Life has just been insanely hectic, and sitting down to type something longer than a quick response to an email has been...well....impossible.<br />
<br />
So what's been happening?<br />
<br />
Well....our entire house got an overhaul. We were expecting none of it to start until probably mid-March, and yet, it's already entirely done. We lucked out! Our tile guy got us in one day after coming to give us a quote, and our painter had an opening and got us in 2 weeks ahead of schedule. And let me tell ya....thank God they did.<br />
<br />
It was mass chaos around here for the entirety of last week, and for two days, Landon and I were locked in my bedroom from 8 am until about 4pm....which is enough to make us both go crazy. The first couple hours on the first day, he thought it was the best thing ever. We got to eat snacks in bed, do our puzzles, color, paint with shaving cream in the shower, eat lunch at his mini table....next to my bed....he was in heaven. By about 12:30 that first day though, he had had enough. And we still had many more hours to go. To say that we both survived is really a huge accomplishment. And the fact that I didn't go absolutely, lock-me-up-in-a-padded-room crazy with the complete and utter disarray of my house for those few days.....THAT is downright amazing.<br />
<br />
But we made it through and it was SO worth those few agonizing days! It all looks AMAZING! Everybody keeps asking for pictures, and I'm getting there, but I'm still working on some finishing touches, so I don't want to jump the gun. We have an area rug on order for the kitchen, I still have some pictures to hang, a few projects to make and hang. We're getting there. At least it's all functional. And once it's all entirely complete.....there will be a LOT of pictures!<br />
<br />
Aside from our house getting a makeover, Landon got one of his own this weekend. The dreaded hair cut. If anyone has seen my child in person over the last month or so, you know how badly he needed the hair cut. But if you know him, you also know that getting a hair cut is the equivalent of putting him in the electric chair. The kid doesn't deal well. At ALL. It's almost as if he can feel every single hair being cut, which makes me wonder if he has some weird, rare disease. Although, I'm guessing, he's just an average toddler. With a little more than average lung power.<br />
<br />
So we tried last weekend.....thought we'd take him to lunch, and then to Carnival Cuts, since that is where everyone has told us to go. Yes, well, the wait was an hour, we were coming up on nap time, and they expected him to sit, strapped in, to that little race car? Sooooo not going to happen. So we resigned and said we'd try again. So Saturday came, and it was time. Nap time had been successful, we had suckers in hand, and we headed out to find someone who could put up with the demon that comes out of him when he's near scissors.<br />
<br />
Here is where I must say, I think we have eternally ruined the sweet young girl who unknowingly agreed to cut this angelic boys hair. He came in, all smiles and waves and giggles, and she said "of course!!!". We assured her that he didn't like it, tried to warn her. She assured us it was "fine" and that "we get nervous kids allllll the time". Ooook. If you say so. So we get ourselves into position. Jeremy is caped up, Landon on lap, sucker in hand, Baby Einstein on my phone. Then it happened. She made her first mistake. She picked up a comb, and ran it through his hair. Suddenly, he knew exactly what was happening, and he wasn't cool with it.<br />
<br />
Next came the blood curdling screams, the back arching, the pleas, the aggravation. Sweet young girl was trying her hardest to wait for him to calm down. I quickly let her know it wasn't going to happen, just go for it. Just get it over with. And holy hell did she ever. Her first cut.....I'm pretty sure I almost passed out. Let's step back in time for a second and remember his last four hair cuts. We have gone to Jeremy's cousin, who is a perfectionist and goes slowly, taking only a little bit at a time, in case he absolutely refuses to let her continue, at least it will be even. I was good with that. Took forever, but at least it wasn't extreme. This chick....oh no. A solid three inches, one swipe. And that's when I just knew. Nobody was going to be happy when we left.<br />
<br />
By the end of the ordeal, the poor girl was shaking, Landon looked like he took a weed whacker to his head, I was traumatized, and Jeremy was exhausted. Annnnd.....everyone else in the salon at the time? They'll never be the same.<br />
<br />
Had to come home and try to attempt to clean it up a bit ourselves, which was a whole new war to wage. But we got it a little more even....I think? I must say, the girl did a phenomenal job. She really did. She worked SO fast, and she didn't smack him. It's not her fault. And I do hold extreme guilt for the nightmares she will probably have for the rest of her lifetime. My child is just a special breed when it comes to hair cutting. At least it's so short, we won't have to worry about it for a while again. But eventually....it will need to be cut again. Like before his 2 year pictures. And I think I may have to have a surrogate mommy go. I don't know how much more of that my heart can handle.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, seeing as we had traumatized him the day before, we figured we would have a nice little family day. We had errands to run, so we figured we'd add lunch in, some Spring / Summer clothes shopping for the little guy, it'd be perfect. Sun was shining, we didn't need to wear coats, what could go wrong? Everything. Everything could go wrong, of course. First meltdown came in Kohls, when he decided the stroller was no longer doin' it for him, and he was over being held. Fine. Hurry up, finish, got everything we needed, we were good. So let's try lunch. Again.....the people in that restaurant will never be the same. We have officially had to leave our first restaurant, and leave our first delicious meal behind. We tried everything, but it became incredibly obvious that nothing was going to work, so I threw in the towel, and took him to the car. I was mortified, he was STILL screaming, and a huge sense of defeat fell over me.<br />
<br />
My kid is <i>that</i> kid. That kid that I swore I would never have. That kid that screams through lunch and throws himself onto store floors when he doesn't get his way. How the hell did this happen? I have worked my tail off this last 21, almost 22, months to ensure that this wouldn't be the outcome. We have taken him to countless restaurants, so he knew how to behave. We take him shopping, so he knows how to behave. And on the average day, he really does do amazing. And no, I'm not just saying that because he's my kid and I want you to think he's perfect. Go back and reread everything I have just written, I have absolutely NO problem owning up to the fact that he can be absolutely insane sometimes. And I have absolutely NO problem owning up to the fact that there are probably things that I am doing as a mother that are contributing to him acting that way. And that stinks. Big time. Because I really am trying my absolute hardest. But I also have to remind myself that NO child is perfect. They all have their moments. This weekend, my child's just all happened to be in public. Which is embarrassing, but it happened, and there's nothing I can do now, except to hopefully stop it from happening again. Which it probably will. And when it does, I will be back to thinking I am an awful parent because I can't control my kid. And there will be more mommy-tears, and lots more mommy-frustrations. And probably a lot more posts about the insanity. Jeremy tells me these are the stories that one day we'll laugh about. I'm not there yet. Right now I'm still stuck between disappointed (in him AND myself) and embarrassment. And being downright thankful that we will probably never see any of the people that experienced his tornado this weekend, ever again.<br />
<br />
Clearly, he wore himself right on out, because he slept until 9:30 this morning. I'd love to credit the time change, but he still went to bed at 8 last night, so it was just a result of being utterly exhausted after all of his shenanigans this weekend. And yes, when I went in to get him at 9:30 today (after getting TWO bathrooms cleaned, and a load of laundry started....whoooo hooooo!), I retrieved my sweet, loving, calm little boy with a crazy hair cut. He was all smiles, hugs and kisses, and for a few moments, I completely forgot about this weekend and all the downs. I was stuck in an "up" with him, and it was exactly what I needed. Here's to hoping the rest of today stays stuck in "up".Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-50391405020401601452013-02-22T06:24:00.001-08:002013-02-22T06:24:08.182-08:00Some Current ObsessionsIt's another list kind of day. Because it's snowing outside AGAIN and it makes me dark and dismal and dreary and putting together any kind of lengthy, meaningful words just seems like too much work for me and this cup of joe beside me.<br />
<br />
So today....it's my list of current obsessions. Because I have a few.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Clearly, this here little corner of the internet has gotten a small makeover. Gray, Chevron and I are having a moment. As I'm about to paint half my house gray, I'm planning for all the small ways I can bring chevron in without overdoing it. I feel like it's a fine line, and I don't want to cross it.</li>
<li>Change. I'm obsessing over change. I've changed my half bath and now my laundry room, with paint. We are preparing to change our living room, foyer, hallway and kitchen with paint. I am feeling an extreme need for all this change and new things to look at. </li>
<li>Babies. I feel like I have finally reached a point of feeling like we are truly ready to add to our family of three. When it will happen, I have no idea. But I feel 100% ready for the first time; I feel like I'm realizing that maybe there <i>is</i> another soul that belongs in this family. </li>
<li>My friends babies. I had a long talk with a good friend yesterday about how excited I am for all my friends to become moms. Because I know, without a doubt, there is not a single one of them that isn't going to kick ass at it. And now as a mom myself, I want to see all of <i>them</i> love this much. I want to see the moment when they go from thinking I'm crazy to <i>totally understanding</i>. Because it's coming. And I can't wait to see it. I can't wait to share it with them and spoil the crap out of those babies. </li>
<li>My kid. I'm obsessing over my kid lately. His every move, his every word, his every smile, his every breath. I'm just flat out obsessed with him. Especially when we're sitting at the table, eating breakfast, and he takes a bite of his waffle and says, "Mmmm. Dats weel good". Yep, that happened this morning. Right now, he's sitting on a plate and scooching (is that a real word? I can't find correct spelling.....?) himself around the kitchen, cracking up. Whatever works, dude. But I'm a little sad it's not the mounds of toys that you have sitting here. </li>
<li>Odwalla Strawberry Banana Smoothies. Obsessed.</li>
<li>I have a serious determination when it comes to tricking the cat into taking her antibiotic, and I get a very strange thrill when it works and she didn't even see it coming. Last night, it happened at 10:15 and Jeremy was not nearly excited as I was when I accomplished my feat. In fact, I think he said, through closed eyes, "You're insane". </li>
<li>Still obsessed with finding a new home....in Florida. Some days I know it's just ridiculous talk, other days, I'm so dead serious, it's not funny, and I get a little pissy when people don't believe me. Today I'm feeling is one of those days. STOP WITH THE FREAKING SNOW ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!</li>
<li>Paint chip colors. I think I'm settled and ready to hand them to the painter, and then....nope. Not quite. Gray is a tricky business.</li>
<li>Grey's Anatomy. I fell off there for a while, but I've been back these last two seasons and holy cow. I'm still madly in love. Especially with McDreamy. How does one individual get better looking every episode? I mean, seriously.</li>
<li>Landon would like to add his list of obsessions to this list. They currently include: chasing the cat, kitchen chairs, play dough, picking up crumbs, and fruit twists. His cat hates the chasing, his mother hates the crawling on the kitchen chairs, the play dough and fruit twists I'm ok with, and the crumb picking....I'm undecided. Part of me says "YAY! He's a clean freak like me!". The other part of me says "Oh shit. He's a clean freak like me!". </li>
<li>I have been singing "Squirmy, squirmy wormy. Squirmy, squirmy wormy" for 20 minutes now. Thanks, Little Bill. This isn't an obsession I was looking to have.</li>
</ul>
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Hope you all have a great weekend, and that you stay WARM and safe from the freaking snow! </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-14057349811939861062013-02-20T15:25:00.004-08:002013-02-20T15:25:49.735-08:00This One's For The GirlsI know girls. A few of them. All around the same "teenage" or "tween" age. Some of them share blood with me. Some of them don't, but I love them just as much. And they're all different. Each one. All unique. All amazing, wonderful, <i>beautiful</i> girls.<br />
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I was their age....not THAT long ago. I remember it vividly. I remember the heartbreaks. The "instant messages" which are now texts. I remember wanting to be cool. I remember wanting the popular girls to like me. I remember it all like it was yesterday.<br />
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But here's the thing. I wasn't cool. At least not to the "cool kids". The popular girls didn't <i>hate</i> me, but they didn't want to hang out with me, either. The "cute boys" didn't like me, hell, they probably didn't even notice me. When my name was read at graduation, I am fairly certain that a large number of my fellow students probably said, "Who?".<br />
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And there were days when all of it was horribly painful. I wanted to be pretty. I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted <i>everybody</i> to love me.<br />
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And these girls I know, whether they admit it or not, all feel the same way. For some of them, it's not painful at all. Nope. Because they ARE the popular one. The pretty one. The one all the boys like. Some of them are more like me. Not hideously "unpopular", but not invited to the hottest parties every week either.<br />
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I could turn this into a big spiel about how much more I relate with those girls. Because let's be honest, I do. But I'm not going to. Because at the end of the day, what I want to say is for ALL the girls. Cool, uncool. Popular, unpopular. Cheerleader, band member. Whatever they are.<br />
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And I know that what I'm about to say is so much easier to say now that I'm through it, and it's over for me. But....if I had known then what I know now, maybe I wouldn't have spent so many nights crying to friends over SILLY things. Because while they seem huge to you now, I promise you, they aren't.<br />
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That cute boy that you're "in love" with? The one you are crying over because he likes that "other" girl? He most likely won't be your husband. You'll probably never see him again after graduation. Your soul mate is out there. And probably not sitting two rows ahead of you in English class. Don't sweat it. Really.<br />
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That pretty girl that all the boys like? She probably won't marry any of them either. So don't envy her. She seems perfect to you because <i>they</i> like her. But you have no idea. You don't know what it's like for her at home. You don't know <i>why</i> all the boys like her. And trust me, if they like her for the wrong reasons, you do NOT want to be like her. I promise.<br />
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And if you ARE that pretty girl? Stop trying so damn hard. Any boy worth your time will like you for (drumroll please....because it's about to get corny) your PERSONALITY. Not your boobs hanging out of your shirt. Or the bottom half of your ass cheeks hanging out of your shorts. The boys who like that want ONE thing, and I promise you, it's not to live happily ever after with you. And being vulgar to get their attention? Not cute either. Maybe it is to them now, but one day, when your kid is asking you why there are naked pictures of you online somewhere laced with curse words and awful things, you'll regret those five minutes of popularity it all earned you.<br />
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You don't NEED to go to the party and get drunk on Friday night. You really don't. Hanging out at home won't kill you. In fact, it definitely won't. That party might. Don't be dumb. Might be "cool" now, but it won't be later. Trust me.<br />
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Middle school, high school, none of it lasts. It'll be over before you know it. And then what does being "popular" mean? Nothing. Sorry. Doesn't help you in college. Won't help you in the real world. Your awesome bubble will pop the day you're out of that school. So I'm hoping that your bubble is filled with good grades, true friends, and lots of laughs, and not sleezy pictures, drunken nights and pregnancy scares. (No, you don't want to be on Teen Mom....those girls are NOT what you need to be aspiring to)<br />
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Some of these girls I know will read this. Some of them might say to themselves "Ok...I really am ok. I'm going to be something someday and high school doesn't last forever". Some of them will roll their eyes and say "Oh my God, she's SO lame. She IS such a loser". Whatever you say, that's ok. Just remember it all. Because one day, when you're sitting in your kitchen watching your kid play and make every animal noise in the book, while you wait for your husband to come home, you'll realize that I'm right.<br />
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To the ones that do read it, and take it in, I love you. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, know that I'm always here. You are perfect just the way you are. Don't let anybody tell you any different. And please, do trust me when I say..... your life will turn out just the way you want it to, if you work for it. If you stay focused, and you make the right choices, you WILL get exactly what you want.<br />
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To the ones who think I'm "like the biggest nerd, ever", I love you, too. I only want the very best for you, and I know exactly what you're capable of, and exactly what you're worth. And it's more than the vodka and mini skirts. You are BEAUTIFUL, and you don't need to flaunt it so much to be just as gorgeous. And your heart is amazing.....let someone see THAT first. Please. I'm here for you too though, if things go too far one night and you feel like shit in the morning. I'll pick you up, cry with you, whatever. But be prepared for reminders that you are better than all of it.<br />
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And to the mama's of these beautiful girls, you're amazing. You have phenomenal daughters. Remind them of that daily. And remind yourself, too.<br />
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To the Daddy's, give these girls love, lots of it. Don't make them search in the wrong places for the wrong kind of love. Give them the right kind, constantly. Tell them they're beautiful, that you love them, that they are your world. Because I know they are.<br />
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And to Landon, be the "good guy". Like the "other" girl. The one who isn't always perfect, but the one whose <i>real</i>. See her heart, not her body. None of them will ever be good enough for you in my eyes, but don't drive me to heavy drinking with your choices. Make your mama proud.<br />
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And to any future daughter that I may or may not be blessed with, you're perfect. Gorgeous. Listen to mommy when I say you don't need to be extreme to be loved. And know that your father should ALWAYS be your number one guy. Until you have a son....then it's ok for him to be 1.5.<br />
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<i>"This ones for all you girls about thirteen, high school can be so rough, can be so mean. Hold onto your innocence, stand your ground when everyone is giving in. This ones for the girls, who've ever had a broken heart, who've ever wished upon a shooting star, you're beautiful the way you are. This ones for the girls who love without holding back, who dream with everything they have, all around the world. This ones for the girls."</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-24341111582786087912013-02-17T17:37:00.001-08:002013-02-17T17:38:17.078-08:00Lots of LoveValentine's Day was a special day around here. Nothing extraordinary, nothing spectacular, ordinary, really. But special nonetheless.<br />
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I kept thinking to myself all day, that I had to make it special, because if we are lucky enough, it could be the last Valentine's Day with just one little Valentine. And I wanted to soak up every ounce of the day in case that is in fact, the case.<br />
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We started by adding our final heart to Landon's bedroom door. In case you missed it, I started about three weeks back, adding one heart to Landon's bedroom door every morning telling him something else that we love about him. Him and I read them every morning when I got him out of bed, and Jeremy and him read them every night before he put him down. It was so much fun, and such a wonderful way to remind ourselves just how blessed we really are with this little dude. It's definitely a tradition that will be carried on for years to come, and all of them will be saved. I can't wait to look back one day and see what special pieces of him we loved the absolute most each year. Some of our favorite hearts included...<br />
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And of course, the handsome Valentine in front of his love explosion:</div>
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We decided that Valentine's Day called for a breakfast more significant than english muffins or cheerios, so we opted for strawberry muffins. But why not make them heart shaped? After all, Pinterest exists for a reason.</div>
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Super cute idea, but the heart shape didn't really pan out once they were cooked. But they were still just as delicious, and clearly, Landon didn't mind the shape when it came to devouring....</div>
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I do believe that SOME of his two muffins made it in his mouth. But I was also reminded of why muffins are only for "special" mornings. </div>
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The rest of our day was just a lot of snuggling, a lot of loving, and a lot of enjoying. And it was pretty perfect. And of course, we also had a festive lunch....</div>
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I assure you, I found this much cooler than Landon did.</div>
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Of course, what would Valentine's Day be without a <i>little</i> drama for the mama? Our plan was to pick up dinner from Macaroni Grill and have it here for when Jeremy got home from work. Our adventure began with a missing gift card, went on to car issues involving an incessant beeping and interior light continually flashing on and off, then progressing onto the CD player trying to eat my brand new Tim McGraw CD. Add to it massive traffic, sleet, and a kid was getting beyond irritated, and it all ended with a call to my mother to just vent and scream before I lost my mind. Eventually, we made it home, and dinner was delicious. So all is well that ends well. But there was definitely frustration in between.</div>
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Friday was Mama's spa day, which, after the intensity of Thursday night and its stresses, was much welcomed. Dropped Landon off with Jeremy's parents and headed off to lunch with my Mom, then a massage, facial, and hair cut. It. Was. Divine. But I missed Landon horribly and was all too happy to be reunited that evening. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose.</div>
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The rest of our weekend has been a lovely mixture of chaos, love and fun. Stopped into Aidan's soccer game Saturday afternoon, and let Landon run wild on the empty fields. That's the way to that kids heart, clearly. Did a lot more staring at paint chips, and feel even more confused than I was before. Amazing. Today we attempted a trip to Lowe's together to get some back splash samples, and that was just a disastrous meltdown situation. But, we think we have at least made a decision on that. So hey! We're getting somewhere. </div>
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Tonight after dinner, somehow we started a full out running game. Jeremy was at one end of the hallway, me at the other, and Landon just kept running back and forth between us, screaming with pure glee, and flying into our arms at each end. As we continued to play and laugh, I was hit with this overwhelming feeling of, "Holy crap. He's ours. Half Jeremy, Half Me, All Ours. We <i>made </i>this. And we are his <i>world</i>." You would think it wouldn't take me until 2 days before his 21 month mark to realize this, and I don't really think it did. But it just hit me <b>hard</b> today. If we are blessed and fortunate enough, one day we'll be a family of more than just us three, so I need to savor and take in these moments <i>now</i>, while they're happening. So that's what I did. I let myself be completely immersed in our game and let it all sink in. And it was beautiful. And I think I was probably more disappointed when Landon started panting and we had to stop, than he was. But it was a blissful 5 minutes for our family of three. And I'll take it. </div>
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So...that's that. Tomorrow is a bank holiday, so we're lucky enough to have another family day while Jeremy has the day off. Although, it involves a trip to the vet for Daphne and me, and my anxiety surrounding THAT task has already begun. Almost as bad as Landon's shot days. Especially for my little anti social ball of fur scaredy cat. </div>
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One of the bloggers I follow, Meredith, over at <a href="http://www.thetichenorfamily.com/">The Tichenor Family</a> shared a song on her blog yesterday (along with an absolutely heart wrenching, gorgeous video of her beautiful family and their BIG announcement), and I found the lyrics perfectly suited to my feelings this evening, so I'll end with those.</div>
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<i style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">"This kind of love makes me feel ten feet tall, i</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">t makes all my problems fall. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">This kind of love it's what I dreamed about, y</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">eah it fills me up, b</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">aby it leaves no doubt. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">This kind of love it's why I'm standing here, i</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">t's something that we can share. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial;">I can't enough of this kind of love."</span></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-24147195234105954162013-02-13T14:15:00.001-08:002013-02-13T14:15:17.606-08:00Random Thought WednesdayI have a lot of things running through my mind, all very random, and none of which can make up an entire post. So this is just going to be a purge of my brain at the moment. I assure you, there is no theme, or any connecting factor. It is all just pure random garbage.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Blake Shelton's newest single, "Sure Be Cool If You Did", I feel fairly certain, was written about the night Jeremy and I met. It's basically perfect. And spot on. It's on repeat around here.</li>
<li>Counseling really does make me feel like a normal human. Most of the time.</li>
<li>Still not spring? Lame. </li>
<li>If it snows another flake, I will lose my mind. </li>
<li>Friendships die out every day. Others grow every day. I am loving the growth. Surprisingly, I'm only slightly saddened by the dying out.</li>
<li>My husband really is a good seed.</li>
<li>Landon is learning something new every single day. Watching it is the single coolest thing I will ever do. </li>
<li>Landon is a real person. With a real personality. And it's a damn good one. </li>
<li>Scentsy's "Inner Peace"....where have you been all my life? Why did I not stock pile you during Bring Back My Bar?</li>
<li>I'm simultaneously writing this and preparing a meatloaf for dinner. Why both at the same, Kelly? Why?</li>
<li>We have made so many Valentine's treats and crafts leading up to tomorrow, that I have nothing special planned for the big day at all. Besides heart shaped sandwiches. That is happening. </li>
<li>A lot of thought, emotion, and talking goes into deciding on the timing for a second baby. A LOT.</li>
<li>Landon screamed the neighbor's name yesterday. From his bedroom window. While pounding on it and watching him play across the street. Made me realize, with 150% certainty that we made the right choice to stay here and not move. </li>
<li>Where the hell are Max & Ruby's parents? I mean, seriously. I know I'm not the first to ask, but why has the question never been answered?</li>
<li>Germ anxiety hasn't lessened, I'm just learning (or trying to learn) to deal. I haven't decided how this is going. </li>
<li>Success = a trip to Marshall's with two germaphobe mamas and two toddlers that resulted in no temper tantrums, and lots of great buys.</li>
<li>Painted my half bath a grayish purple. And it kicks ass. That was a week ago. Maybe before we hit the two week mark I'll fix the places on the ceiling that got paint on them. I said maybe.</li>
<li>Tax return has been filed, now show me the money, Uncle Sam, so we can get the rest of these renovations under way. </li>
<li>Fairchild Road between 21 and 23 Mile is the biggest mud bog. It's ridiculous. And is cause for a carwash. </li>
<li>Landon is a counter top food thief. Don't set your plate too close to the edge. You'll be missing valuable food groups by the time you get to it.</li>
<li>I need to go wrap presents for the two fellas in this house. Yes. We buy presents for Valentine's Day. Why not? My prediction is that tomorrow will be a play dough heaven around these parts. Bring it on. </li>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-59791619324475218962013-02-04T14:15:00.001-08:002013-02-04T14:15:31.486-08:00Mommy WoesThis has been a day. One of "those" days.<br />
<br />
The type of day that starts with a toddler continually pulling out the bottom drawer of the entertainment center to stand in. Which then proceeded to pushing every button on the very heavy TV. Cue my (probably) irrational fears, and all I could do was see the TV collapsing down on him. He was taken out of the drawer and put into time out at <i>least</i> 6 times. Every single time his time had been served, he was back in the drawer. I tried redirecting, it would only last a maximum of 2 minutes before, you guessed it, he was back in the drawer. Tried to take a shower, locked him in the bathroom with me. Completely obliterated the undersides of the bathroom cabinet, leaving the bathroom in complete shambles, and then broke free. I then had to rush out of the shower and run to the living room soaking wet, because mama vibes set in, and I just knew. Where did I find him? In the drawer. Pushing every button on the TV.<br />
<br />
This is where I must remind you that I am <i>human</i>, just like I have said from the very beginning of this blog. And this <i>human</i> mama lost it. There was yelling. A lot of it. Which caused my adventurous boy to start crying hysterically. Which, of course, caused me to start crying hysterically. So now there is yelling, crying, apologizing, more yelling, and yet still, no solution, because I STILL have a toddler standing in a drawer.<br />
<br />
Enter my God send, my mother. I call, completely overwhelmed and defeated, and she asks what she can do. Except, I have no idea. Because at the end of the day, I know the root of all of this. We are stir crazy. Completely OVER being stuck in the house. Over the cold, over the winter, over the germs, over my absolutely debilitating fear of the germs. He's bored. I'm going crazy. It's just a bad mix. I am 100% serious when I tell you that I have researched family friendly towns to reside in in Florida. Like...have actually looked at homes online that are currently available to purchase.<br />
<br />
But that's neither here nor there I suppose. My mother showed up, less than an hour later, with the fixings for cookie making and open ears. She flat out asked me, "Is this one of those days when you just don't want to do this anymore?". My heart sank. Oh my God, I must be a horrible mother, because I am quite certain that that thought had to of crossed my mind at some point during this mornings fiasco. But she was also quick to say, "Because it's ok if it is. I had those days, too." Oh wait. This is normal? To feel this overwhelmed with ONE kid? How are people doing it with two? Three? Four? FIVE!? And being so calm and happy? Surely, they are normal, and I am bat shit crazy. Obviously.<br />
<br />
My cousin also offered me some solace. She told me that if we are being amazing parents 1/3 of the time, we are doing our jobs, and we both know we are being amazing parents far more than 1/3 of the time. In fact, 95% of the time, I do feel like I'm pretty darn good at this. {For the record, that doesn't mean that I AM good at this 95% of the time, but I at least know that 95% of the time, I am trying my absolute hardest} But there is that 5% that creeps in some times, and this morning, was one of those times.<br />
<br />
I also know, that it's not just me. He's a toddler, he's testing his limits, he's learning. But in that moment, I feel like if I was a better parent, he would have absolutely no need or desire to stand in a drawer after being told 50000000 times not to. And those moments....well....they SUCK. Because they are enough to break any mama's spirit and will. And this morning, I felt very broken. Very unsure of how I will ever be able to handle this when God decides to bless us with another baby. Very unsure of myself, and quite frankly, really not liking myself very much.<br />
<br />
It also didn't help that in the midst of all this, my hair is continuing to fall out in clumps, and the bare spots are growing by what seems like the millisecond. I can't walk by a mirror without feeling absolutely disgusted, and that gets a girl down. Sorry, maybe that's vain, but it does. Everybody wants to feel like they're at least not "disgusting", and on most days, I don't feel that. In fact, I feel downright nasty. And it's disheartening. I try to look past it, try to tell myself, "Hey! It's ok! You don't need great hair or perfect skin, you're a good mom, and look at your miracle!". But there are moments when it all culminates together and I feel like a shitty, ugly mom. Today was one of those days.<br />
<br />
But I thank my Mom, because she did help. Her reassurance, and of course, delicious cookies, did help offer a small bit of clarity.<br />
<br />
Tonight, Jeremy and I will be discussing what home improvement projects I can get started on immediately, instead of waiting for spring to start. To give my something to do to pass these (hopefully) last days of winter. To make me feel accomplished. Because when I feel accomplished, I do feel better. Bucket loads better. So....let the planning commence.<br />
<br />
And tomorrow, we will leave our house. I will force myself. To go to the store. To do SOMETHING. To just get us out of here. We <i>need</i> it. We also really <i>need</i><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>Spring. Like.....now. Right now.<br />
<br />
And Wednesday, I will go see my counselor again, for the first time in a few months. Because, clearly, I still need to. I thought I was good, and for a while, I was. But I know me, and I know when I'm in a place that I need help, guidance. And I'm there. And I'm not afraid, nor ashamed, to admit it.<br />
<br />
Does any of this mean that I don't still love being a mom? No. Does it mean that I want out? Absolutely not. Does it mean that I give up? Nope, not even close. It means that I'm <i>human</i>, and I had a day. Isn't the first time, won't be the last. The goal, however, is that on the next "day", I know what to do, how to snap myself out of it, how to feel better faster. Stay tuned.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-33522443910532289012013-01-25T06:04:00.000-08:002013-01-25T06:04:13.518-08:00"On The Night You Were Born"We just had a moment. Landon and I did.<br />
<br />
We woke up this morning and he started sneezing, and his nose started running, and I started cursing because we literally have not left our house all week. We've gone NO where. So the fact that he apparently STILL managed to catch something, just really grinds my nerves.<br />
<br />
So after not wanting to eat much breakfast, he brought me an armful of books, crawled up in my lap, snuggled in, and we started reading.<br />
<br />
We have read "On The Night You Were Born" by Nancy Tillman before. A couple times, tops. It isn't filled with cows that he can moo at, or babies that he can kiss, so it's not one of his absolute favorites. But reading it today, I realized that it is, hands down, one of <i>my</i> favorites.<br />
<br />
If you haven't read it, or you don't have it for your child, please, go buy it, and have a moment like Landon and I had together this morning.<br />
<br />
<i>Feel</i> every word. <i>Relate to</i> every word. And if you're anything like me, <i>cry</i> over every word.<br />
<br />
I won't sit here and type out the whole book, although, I really should so you get my point. But, it starts with Pslams 139 on the first page: "For you are fearfully and wonderfully made". I kick myself a little every time I walk into Landon's room and realize that this verse isn't displayed SOMEWHERE in his room. I've vowed to fix that, and to make sure that any future babies also have it in theirs. Because really, is it not the absolute truth?<br />
<br />
I didn't even get through the first page without realizing that I hadn't paid close enough attention to this book the first few times we read it. And it took me back to that fateful night of May 19, 2011, which in some ways, was probably the worst, scariest night of my life. But in every single way that matters, it was the absolute best night I will ever have. I've already written his birth story, so I won't go down that long road again, even though every second of it all is replaying in my head right now. How did we get from there, to this TODDLER that will be TWO in four months? FOUR MONTHS!!!! TWO!!! I have FOUR months to plan a kick ass Diego party for my TWO YEAR OLD. But that's another story.<br />
<br />
Annnnnyway. The first page, I have to share.<br />
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"On the night you were born, </div>
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the moon smiled with such wonder </div>
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that the stars peeked in to see you</div>
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and the night wind whispered,</div>
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"Life wil never be the same."</div>
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Because there had never been anyone like you...</div>
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ever in the world."</div>
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It goes on, for 14 more beautiful, heart wrenching pages. And on every page, I felt like good ol' Nancy Tillman was talking right to Landon and me. Mamas, please, do yourself a favor, if you don't have it already, go get this book. And be smarter than me, and put it up somewhere where little hands can't get it and destroy it. Thankfully, we only have a bent corner, but after this mornings "moment", it will be put in a special place. Maybe it will become our new tradition, to read it every morning, or every night, on his birthday. Maybe at exactly 9:21pm, so we can experience together, exactly what we experienced that night. Sounds like an amazing plan to me. </div>
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<i>"Heaven blew every trumpet, and played every horn, on the wonderful, marvelous night you were born."</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-39313888828565045522013-01-23T09:31:00.001-08:002013-01-23T09:31:13.337-08:00PeaceYep. We <i>finally</i> found it. Peace. Ahhhhh.<br />
<br />
A few posts back, I talked about the fact that we were at a crossroads, and we had lots of choices to make. And those choices felt monumental, and we felt like we were sure to screw it up somehow.<br />
<br />
But. We had an ah-ha moment, <i>finally</i>, and our choices have been made, and I know, without a doubt in my mind, that we have made all the RIGHT choices. I know I said before that there weren't "right" choices and "wrong" choices, and I still believe that. But I also believe that there was a "right choice for us", and we found it. It took a looooooot of talking, some yelling, some tears, loooooots of frustration, but we both finally realized, that we actually <i>agreed</i>. GASP! Crazy, I tell ya. But it's true. And it feels damn good.<br />
<br />
So with our peace and our choices, came more choices, but the fun kind. I have been staring at paint chips on my walls for almost a week now, agonizing over what color looks the best in the light at each time of day. I think I've got it figured out, but...well....the sun just shifted, so my whole mind set might too.<br />
<br />
In other news, it's freezing as crap outside. Yeah, freezing as crap. And while Landon and I have started going a little stir crazy inside the house, it's been so nice to stop, slow down, and really savor these last few days. I haven't spent time cleaning, or doing laundry, or stressing out over choices. I've just played with my little guy. I've snuggled. I've laughed, sang, danced. I've wondered what happened to my 5 lb <i>baby</i>. And I have enjoyed every single second, and every single breath of air that we have shared.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, his lunch looked like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsht_X-XdeTgA2oD4Z1fE2iGO_Pi5REXaGviGbat_KQguv1T1H8ONo9DPFOEPhqkJ4Fx5OeO-xFfve4BOWDGjbIH-mkJEqQKuhNXBuyGPg18Up4HDovnoh7sRg_mjAbbXnwdOmUYXe6Q/s1600/IMG_3748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsht_X-XdeTgA2oD4Z1fE2iGO_Pi5REXaGviGbat_KQguv1T1H8ONo9DPFOEPhqkJ4Fx5OeO-xFfve4BOWDGjbIH-mkJEqQKuhNXBuyGPg18Up4HDovnoh7sRg_mjAbbXnwdOmUYXe6Q/s320/IMG_3748.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
And now you're asking why in the world this is important. Because of this. 20 months ago, my <i>baby</i> was struggling to drink 2 oz of milk at a time. Slowly, we got him up to his "right" amount, and he was drinking his meals every 2 hours. Then suddenly he was eating rice cereal. And then it turned into little pureed (nasty looking) meals. Then we moved onto real people food, cut up into teeny tiny little bites. How in the world did we get to this? A real persons meal. No cutting up, no puree, no liquid meal. Just a real sandwich, real apples, and real crackers. It may seem silly and insignificant to you, but to this mama, it's kind of heartbreaking. But it's also kind of a huge triumph. 20 months ago they put a tube up his nose to force him to eat. They told us we couldn't take him home until he ate more. They let him go, not sure he would catch up to the right weight. Well look at him now. An appetite for life almost as large as his appetite for anything edible. We did it, monkey!!!<br />
<br />
Today, we built a fort. And what is the first thing my precious boy did? Went and got a picture of Jeremy and I and brought it into the fort. Decoration? Including Daddy? I don't know what his thought process was, but it was cute all the same.<br />
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After lunch, I ate my daily consumption of three Dove candies. And, let's face it, the messages inside of those things are kind of like my second Bible. I take them <i>very</i> seriously. Today, I opened a precious nugget of deliciousness to discover:</div>
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It's like they were reading my mind over these last few days. Could I love being a mom any more? I really don't think I could. Could I love this crazy boy any more? I know I couldn't. So, Dove, amen. I will continue to love what I do. </div>
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I'm feeling now like there wasn't really much of a point to this post. If you made it all the way through without saying "What the hell is she talking about??", pat yourself on the back, and get yourself a little nugget of deliciousness and joy. You deserve it. </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-18149552885499751082013-01-15T15:22:00.007-08:002013-01-15T15:24:21.909-08:00Our Love Story<span style="font-size: x-small;">I have been thinking a LOT about our "Love Story" the last few days. Talking with friends at all different places in their relationships has really caused me to reflect on my own. Talking to my mom this morning, when she said "I really do think you two are perfect" spurred what's about to come.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">But I must preface this all by saying, we are NOT perfect. Far from it. We fight, we yell, we disagree, we aren't all sing song romance and flowers. But. We fight for each other. We yell because we care enough to yell. We disagree because we are two different people, who just happen to compliment each other on the good days. And to us, grand romantic gestures are just too much. We'd rather laugh our way through the "romance" and make fun of each other. It's what works.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">So here it is. A total retrospective that is going to make it sound like I think we have the perfect love story. But again, nothing is perfect, and we are far from it. We are just perfect for each other, which at the end of the day, is what really matters.</span><br />
<br />
November 3, 2007. The day that would change my world. We spent the day celebrating Aidan James' 3rd birthday, laughing and loving with family. I had spent a portion of the day in a bedroom talking through my internal struggles with cousins, trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings. Was I really happy? Was I where I should be? With who I should be with? If everything was right in my world, should I really be doubting?<br />
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The party drew to an end, and the idea to head to the local "hot" bar was thrown out. I wasn't for it, at all. It was a Saturday night, and I knew, without a doubt in my mind, the ex boyfriend I hadn't spoken to since July would be there, and it wasn't a situation I wanted to be in. But I have a persuasive "frister", and after going home and FALLING ASLEEP, and telling her I was way too tired to go, and her insisting, we headed out.<br />
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I walked into the bar one person, and walked out as someone completely different. When I went it, I was a scared, nervous, confused girl. I walked out a hopeful, expectant, clear minded (aside from you know, being <i>wasted</i>.... SO not my best moment) girl. But I'm getting ahead of myself.<br />
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We worked our way through the crowd, and while she had her eye out for the dreaded run in, I kept my eyes down, hoping to just avoid catching a glimpse and then being stuck. Somehow we found a spot to stand, got our drinks, and started doing what any 20 somethings at a bar would do. Just standing there, trying to feel cool, drinking. Sarah spotted someone from across the bar and said he looked familiar. Me, still being a ball of nerves, just focused on my drink and didn't pay much attention to what was happening. Eventually, our paths crossed, Sarah figured out how she knew him (that's a story for a whole other day), and they all started talking. I continued to be the awkward girl standing there, not saying much, just sucking down my drinks as fast as I could to take the edge off. Again, not my finest of moments on this particular night. Classiness went out the window.<br />
<br />
At some point, we were able to get two seats at the bar, and this mystery man that Sarah had known made his way to my side. I can confidently say that it didn't take me more than 5 minutes to realize there was something different about him.<br />
<br />
I can't tell you exactly what we talked about, or for how long, because quite frankly, there were way too many drinks going into my system to remember it all. But I do remember discovering that he too was Lutheran, and deciding right then and there that we would be married. I remember the dreaded run in finally happening, and it not being nearly as bad because he was there as a barrier. I remember making him <i>pinky promise</i> me (no joke) that he would call me. I remember being so.damn.mad at Jimmy for calling Sarah and asking her when she was coming home. I remember walking in my front door, waking my mom up and telling her I met the man I was going to marry. I remember calling my roommate at college and telling her the same. I remember (successfully) trying to avoid a really, really unpleasant outcome from all my drinks all.night.long.<br />
<br />
You hear about it in movies, or fairy tales, or whatever. Your mom tells you every time you break up with someone. Your friends tell you. The experts tell you. Married people tell you. Everybody tells you. But until you experience it, you don't believe it.<br />
<br />
I'm here to tell you, that it's true. There will be a moment when <i>you just know</i>. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. There is no question, no hesitation. Just undeniable certainty. You can't put your finger on the moment, you just know that one minute you feel one way, and the next, you feel completely different. For me, it happened in a crowded bar, with a man 6 years older than me.<br />
<br />
The next morning, when I told my FATHER that my moment had happened....in a bar....with a man 6 years older than me.....I think he probably wanted to check me into an institution. If you know me at all, you know that meeting someone in a BAR is the least likely of places for me. And if you know my FATHER, you know that a man 6 years older than me was probably a red flag.<br />
<br />
One of my college roommates at the time was a guy who had met his fair share of girls in bars, whom he never called. And I was assured, time and time again, that I was CRAZY if I thought this guy was going to call me. I was insane. I needed to get a grip. Get over it. Move on. Which is why I was so unbelievably happy that I was with Kyle when I got the phone call. We were walking out of class, and my phone rang, a number I didn't know. I didn't think twice, I just hit ignore. Within 10 seconds, my heart dropped, and I said "Oh my God, what if it's him??". I was assured, once again, that I was delusional, and there was no way in hell that it was him. But two minutes later, when my voicemail ringer went off, and I got the <i>best message of my life</i>, it was Kyle who was eating his words, not me. I distinctly remember running, full speed, into our apartment to find my other roommates and tell them that he had actually called. And then spending a solid hour trying to sum up the courage to call him back.<br />
<br />
And it's not a lie when I say that we have spoken every single day since then. Since November 5, 2007. I went home again the following weekend and we had our first date, exactly one week after we met. And it was everything the first date with your future husband should be. We were 100% comfortable with each other, from the very beginning. There were no weird silences. No awkward moments. Just certainty. And, lucky for me, I could tell that night, that the certainty was a two way street. Not just me.<br />
<br />
We moved in together in December of 2008. We were engaged in May of 2009. Married in June of 2010. And welcomed our first child in May of 2011.<br />
<br />
We have shared happiness and tears. We have witnessed lives starting and lives ending. We have lost grandparents. We have graduated with bachelors degrees and masters degrees. We have struggled. We have been scared. We have shared <i>the best days of our lives</i> together. Since November 3, 2007.<br />
<br />
There are days that I don't know where the hell that boy I met in the bar went. The days that I want to scream at him, and the days that I do. The days that I wonder just how drunk I really was that night. <i>We have those days. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But every.single.day is shared with my soulmate. The one person that God put on this planet just for me. And even in the midst of the screams, I am 100% sure of that. I <i>know</i> that it's true that everything happens just the way it's supposed to. I <i>know</i> that we were both at that bar that night for a reason. I <i>know</i> that <i>this is what forever looks like.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
We aren't perfect. Our marriage isn't perfect. But it is ours. Our story. Our love. Our life. And it's the one that we were made to live together. And damn, I <i>love</i> that man.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The night we met, November 3, 2007</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Jeremy's graduation with his MBA, December 2007</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Our first Christmas together, 2007</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">June 19, 2010</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-77508379200543475612013-01-14T12:56:00.005-08:002013-01-14T12:56:36.361-08:00Having Faith to Fall Back OnHappy Monday, kids.<br />
<br />
I have been putting so much thought into my plans of trusting God these last few days. We have a lot of big choices on the road in front of us at the moment. Choices that include, but are not limited to, homes, babies, money. Choices that excite me and scare the crap out of me all at the same time. Choices that need to be made, and they are either going to be the right choice, or the wrong choice, and we won't know until we've made up our minds, and we're in the thick of it.<br />
<br />
Scary doesn't really begin to describe it.<br />
<br />
And here I am, trying to be all reasonable and take the emotion of out of it all, which, for the record, and much to Jeremy's dismay, is NOT working. Emotion rules my world. And none of the things that we're facing can stand to have TWO people thinking only by the rules, and taking out all emotion. One of us has to be the mess. I've taken that role as my own. I'm not enjoying it much.<br />
<br />
But then I think about it, I mean <i>really</i> think about it, and I realize I'm not really in control anyway. I could lay out a perfect plan, but at the end of the day, it's still not up to me. God has <i>His</i> plan, and that's the way it's all going to play out anyway.<br />
<br />
But here's the thing. I found myself getting very frustrated a few days ago. Sobbing to my husband because I didn't know what to do, what to feel. Sobbing and complaining because I had been praying for clarity for days, and I still had nothing. How was I supposed to trust Him, when he couldn't give me even the smallest sign as to what we're supposed to do? What the right choice is?<br />
<br />
Then it hit me. After a long talk with the bff. Maybe there isn't a "right" choice, or a "wrong" choice. There are just choices. And we get to decide which choice we want to make. It's actually a BEAUTIFUL situation to be in. We get to CHOOSE if we want to move, we don't have to, and we aren't being told that we can't. We get to CHOOSE when we want to start trying for baby number 2, we don't have a timeline that we NEED to follow or an illness that we NEED to beat first. We get to CHOOSE how to spend our money, we aren't being TOLD what to do with it.<br />
<br />
So, really, I have been spending the last few weeks stressing out, crying, rationalizing and agonizing over what? Something that most people are not lucky enough to have. <i>Choices</i>.<br />
<br />
Choices that are not going to make or ruin our lives. No. Because regardless of what we choose, we will have a healthy, happy, beautiful little boy to love. Whether it's here, or somewhere else. Whether it's just him, or he has a little brother or sister. Whether we are rich, or broke. We will still have each other. Our family. Together, loving each other. I spent way too much time these last few days breaking my own heart over doing what's "right" for Landon. What's right for Landon is to be with his mommy and daddy. To love him. To smother him with kisses and attention. To right his wrongs. To be stern, but to have fun. To keep doing exactly what we're doing. Maybe continuing to do it here. Maybe continuing to do it somewhere else. Maybe giving him a little sibling now. Maybe giving him a little sibling in a little while.<br />
<br />
The point is, my mind still isn't made up. Every time I think it is, I change it again. And don't let Jeremy fool you, he's playing the same game. But now, I'm not dreading the <i>choice</i> anymore. I'm embracing it. I'm knowing that no matter what choice we make, it will work for us. We will make it. That's just how we are. And we are <i>so damn lucky</i>.<br />
<br />
So while I was getting angry because God wasn't coming to me in my dreams and saying "Here Kelly, this is the way, do this", I found his clarity in the words of my best friend, and in the eyes of my child. I was expecting to walk out of church yesterday with no weight on my shoulders, singing "Hallelujah!" and in the midst of an Ah-Ha moment. Didn't happen that way. Instead, it was in an afternoon of laughs, mindless TV watching, serious talks, snuggles and kisses. Prayers are rarely answered the way we expect them to be, I need to remember that. I'm still learning. And I'm learning that God can be one sneaky dude.<br />
<br />
There's no way to know what we'll end up doing, at least not yet. There are still are a lot of conversations ahead of us, a lot of soul searching, and, probably, a lot of second guessing. But I'm feeling more ready for it now than I was just this morning. So my faith is still strong that God will find another way to lead us down the right road. I'm just going to stop looking for it, and just let it happen.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-47581262807129783602013-01-09T16:41:00.001-08:002013-01-09T16:41:13.261-08:00Resolution StatusSo I've been trying to gauge, as the days go by, where I'm at with my resolutions.<br />
<br />
Most days, I'm feeling like I'm failing. Other days, I feel like I'm rocking it.<br />
<br />
But all days, I feel like I must be doing <i>something</i> right when I hear Landon say "Mommy" for the thousandth time, or when he stops playing, dead in his tracks, to come give me a hug. Those are the moments that make the rest worth it.<br />
<br />
It feels like there are a million things going on, and yet I can't seem to figure out how to update on them all.<br />
<br />
I have been an organizing / cleaning fool around here, for a number of reasons. But mostly, because it's making me feel like I'm actually <i>doing</i> something with myself. We are pretty much hiding out because every time I turn on the news there are horror stories of how horrible the flu is right now, and we get nightly phone calls from my mother in law asking us if we're still healthy, AND every time I log on Facebook, someone else seems to be sick. {I'm really, really trying my hardest to avoid facebook at all costs, simply because hearing about people puking gives me massive anxiety. Some days I am really successful. Other days ... not so much}. And by the way, yes, I know that the "Flu" is not the same as the puking bug. But I would like avoid BOTH, if we can.<br />
<br />
So. That's where we're at. Huddled up inside. Cleaning. Organizing. Loving. Practicing patience when Landon tries to test it.<br />
<br />
A success story of patience? When I fished poop out of the bathtub, had to drain the tub, clean it, and then restart the whole process. I started to lose it when, after the naked baby got hit with cold water he had a total meltdown and refused to get back into the tub, but I pulled myself back together, and laughed at the situation. Growth.<br />
<br />
A serious failure of patience? Wanting to cry while watching Landon dump out the ENTIRE bag of blocks for probably the 47th time today. In fact, I did tear up. BUT. I didn't scream, I didn't yell, I didn't get mad. But I did feel defeated. Majorly. The kisses I got afterwards made up for it. Totally.<br />
<br />
The fact that we survived FOUR time outs today, and his actions deemed him worthy of probably about four more that I just didn't have the energy to dole out, but we're still standing = growth. Although, I am beyond excited for bed tonight, not going to tell a lie.<br />
<br />
But for now, I have a toddler crawling on my lap, giving me repeated kisses, and a bowl full of ice cream waiting for me. That, my friends, is all I need.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-21758480032034544552013-01-01T09:58:00.003-08:002013-01-01T11:14:07.969-08:00Making 2013 the Best YetHappy New Year, friends!!!<br />
<br />
As promised, I have been putting a ton (probably way too much) time into planning out my "resolutions" for the year.<br />
<br />
I generally don't do the whole resolution thing, because I feel like it's just a list of things that people want, but will never actually accomplish past the first two weeks of January.<br />
<br />
But, I'm a mother now. And I have a little man that deserves for me to continually keep trying to better myself. To keep making plans, and setting goals, and working my butt off to be the mom he deserves, or to be a mom worthy of him.<br />
<br />
So, I've been thinking. I've been drafting. I want reasonable goals. Goals that will actually make a difference, not just silly goals. Goals that MEAN something.<br />
<br />
Amidst my soul searching and drafting, I ran across a list on a blog I have been following, and it felt like I was reading exactly what I wanted to say myself. She gave me direct permission to copy and paste her list, but I want to give you the link, and hope that you'll go read, and you'll discover another corner of this huge internet where you feel like somebody else "gets it". Because every time I read her entries, I feel like she just "gets it". So, if you have a minute, hop over and read Jen's "Maintenance Plan" on <a href="http://www.adailydoseofdavis.com/">A Daily Dose of Davis</a>. And while you're there, look around a bit. I promise, mamas, you won't regret it. I feel like maybe my resolution should just be to be more like her altogether.<br />
<br />
But I do want to emphasize the portions of her list that mean the most to me, the parts that I feel like I REALLY need to work on this year....and a few others things that she has probably already mastered, and I'm still working on.<br />
<br />
<b>Patience.</b> Yeah, I need more of it. With my husband <i>and</i> my son. I'm a type A personality, no secret there and I feel like I'm OCD about some things. I need to learn to realize that Jeremy and Landon are NOT me. They don't always see things the way I do, they won't always do things the way I would, and that's <i>OK.</i> I find myself jumping down their throats way too often, either because they aren't moving fast enough for me, or because they just aren't doing it the way I want it done. It needs to change. I need to be the mom and the wife that allows them to be themselves, and loves the way they do things, even when it's different from me. I need to not rush Landon when he's taking 10 minutes to put away the blocks, because he IS putting away the blocks. I need to see it for what it's worth and be grateful. That's a five minute job that might take him 15, but it just saved ME those 5 minutes. Patience. I need some of that in 2013.<br />
<br />
Which leads me to focus on <b>Relaxing</b>. Let's face it, I TOTALLY need to relax. I get way too uptight about way too much. What? You didn't think I knew that? No, no. I do. And I promise you I don't <i>want</i><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>to always HAVE to have a plan, or be such a clean freak or germaphobe. I really don't. And I really do NOT want to always feel so heartbroken and let down when things don't go <i>exactly</i> the way I had pictured them. I have a toddler, it's going to be rare that things go as planned. I need to step back, RELAX, and find the beauty in the journey that we DO take, instead of the one that I PLANNED on taking. Because at the end of the day, he is everything I have ever wanted, and then some. Enjoying every ounce of him should be all that matters. Even if it means the bathroom doesn't get cleaned that day.<br />
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Which pretty much just sums up that I need to <b>Enjoy</b> life more. I spent so much time over the holidays analyzing everyone we came in contact with, trying to figure out if they looked symptomatic of the stomach flu, that I lost a ton of time to just <i>enjoy</i> being with the ones I love the most. And at the end of the day, what is worrying about the stomach bug going to do for me? Nothing. If we're going to get it, we're still going to get it. I need to stop, enjoy what is happening around me, and know that if we DO get it, we'll get through it. Just like everybody else that gets it does. But it doesn't stop at freaking out about the stomach bug. I feel like there are Sundays (ok, MOST Sundays) that I don't allow myself to enjoy church, because I'm worried that Landon is making too much noise, or he's about to crawl under that pew, or pull that ladies hair. And the fact is, our church is the one place that I DON'T have to worry about him being too loud and people caring. Will I let him scream from start to finish? Um no. But if he claps enthusiastically and yells "YAY!!!" every time the congregation stops singing, I need to laugh, give him a kiss, and ENJOY how stinking cute he is. Not be mortified. I need to take the time to enjoy God's message for ALL of us, not just for those who don't have to worry about a squirmy toddler. At the end of the day, I just need to enjoy EVERYTHING a little bit more.<br />
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Including my husband. I have been blessed with a man who doesn't withhold "I love you"'s, and kisses and hugs are ever present in his world. And while I'd like to say I'm the same way, I hate to admit that most days, by the time he comes in the door, I am so overwhelmed with what the day has thrown at me that a kiss seems like silliness that I just don't have time for. And of course, I'm too consumed with myself and the toddler tornado that has been running through our house all day to ask him about <i>his</i> day. I need to improve. I need to be a <b>better wife</b>. I need to show him as much love as he shows me, as freely as he gives it. I need him to know that I care about HIS day too, and what happened while he was away from us. I need to be grateful that he leaves the house everyday to work his tail off so that I can stay here and stress out over cleaning and toys and lunches and diapers. I have a great life, and it's because of him. He needs to know that.<br />
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I need to do all of these things to add up to be a <b>better mom</b>. Because at the end of the day, that's what I'm here for. To be a mom. To the most handsome, funny, energetic, amazing little boy around. And he deserves the absolute best. So this year, I need to work on being that. I'll never be perfect, and I know that. But I <i>can</i> be perfect for <i>him</i>. That's all that matters.<br />
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I could list about 12,000 other things that I would love to say I will make happen in 2013, but these are the most important. If I can accomplish these, the rest will just be icing on the cake. And I'm going to try to approach it just like Jen does. It might not all be perfect by December 31st, but if I've made PROGRESS in each area, I'll call it a successful year. I can't believe I've never looked at my resolutions in that way before. I just always felt like if I wasn't entirely accomplished by the end of the year, it was a failure. So Jen, if you're reading this, thank you. For putting it into perspective. For making it feel more attainable. For being the person you are, that makes me feel like I'm not alone, and we could absolutely be friends if our worlds ever happened to collide.<br />
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I hope you all had a wonderful, safe New Years Eve, and that your New Years Day is spent with those you love, celebrating the start of another year. Let's make it the best yet!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-74053030841806646272012-12-30T16:33:00.000-08:002012-12-30T16:33:09.432-08:00A Very Merry ChristmasHoly wow.<br />
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This last week has been so jammed packed, so fun filled, so over flowing with love. And as today was our FINAL Christmas celebration, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off our shoulders. Now it's time to relax. Like don't-change-out-of-pajamas kind of relax. Ah yes.<br />
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Our celebrations started last Sunday, with our annual "Christmas Eve" with my mom's side of the family. It worked better for all of us to do it a day early, so we all packed up and headed out to Sarah's for some secret Santa, good food and lots of laughs. I have been spending Christmas Eve with these people my entire life, and I have loved every single night. I have loved watching as we grew up, and as our families grew. It's amazing to see Grandma with her EIGHT great grandchildren. It's never quite the same without Grandpa, but the love still bubbles over. These folks are my heart.<br />
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Christmas Eve was supposed to be a low key day, until we had to set out on a man hunt for our cat. We realized early in the morning that we hadn't seen her, her food was untouched and her litter box had only been used once since it was changed the day before. Me, as the eternal pessimist that I am, was certain we were never going to find her alive. We searched all day to no avail, which only made me feel more like it was doomed to be a sad, sad situation. Luckily, she was FINALLY found late Christmas Eve night, hiding in the basement. Attention starved, but perfectly fine. Phew!</div>
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But....our celebrations carried on, and we had my parents and Grandmother over for dinner and presents. The last couple years we have done gifts with my parents on Christmas morning, but this year we chose to start a new tradition, and let Christmas morning be just "our" time for our gifts and Santa's gifts. </div>
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That tree would indicate one <strike>spoiled</strike> lucky little kid.</div>
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Loved his new blocks, and it took him only 2 minutes to figure out how to dump out all 80 of them. </div>
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And Gigi got down on the floor, in true Gigi fashion, and played blocks with him. Melt my heart. Such a special moment for both of them, and for me, to see it all unfold. </div>
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The picture is blurry, but the happiness and love is obvious.</div>
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....and then there's our sad attempt at a family photo. This kid is really not loving pictures these days. Siiiiiigh.</div>
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Once everyone left (and Daphne was found safe), Santa was able to deliver all his gifts, and we were able to hit the hay and wait for the magic of Christmas morning.</div>
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Magic....not quite. We were thinking for a good portion of the night / early morning that we would be spending a solid part of our day in urgent care with Landon. We were sure his ears were bothering him when he spent a good chunk of the night screaming and just incredibly unhappy. Jeremy ended up sleeping in his rocking chair with him until I finally woke them both up at 8:30. What? I had time to get up, make muffins and coffee, and sit down and watch some TV before they were even interested in presents? Eh. I'll have enough early Christmas mornings in my future, might as well enjoy the peace while I can. At any rate, once Landon was up, he was good to go, and loved his gifts from Mommy and Daddy and Santa.</div>
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The magic wasn't there at 3AM, but come 8:45 when wrapping paper started flying, it was all Christmas magic, and my heart was full.</div>
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By far, Landon's favorite gift was his new wagon from Grandma and Grandpa Laeder. Which was obvious when he refused to get out of it on Christmas morning. We had to watch TV, eat our snack, and get DRESSED....all from inside the wagon. Safe to say his Radio Flyer was a hit.</div>
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We also did a little Christmas morning bowling, thanks to Santa's delivery.</div>
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After all our gifts were opened and our muffins were enjoyed, we got ready, and headed over to Jeremy's parents. We were lucky enough for my parents to join us on Christmas Day as well, so Landon got to spend the day with both sets of Grandparents, always special. He spent a lot of time watching the train, eating, playing with his cousins, and....napping. And snuggling. And freaking his mommy out, as I was determined there was still something wrong. At this point, I think we've concluded that he's just incredibly out of routine and therefore, out of sorts. Really craving this next week of just being lazy and getting ourselves back into our routine.</div>
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We didn't have much snow ON Christmas, but the day after, the heavens opened and dumped about 7 inches on us! Which was Landon's first REAL snow fall. We never got all that much last winter, so Mama could not wait to get him suited up and out in the fluffy white stuff.</div>
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He could hardly move once all the necessary items were put on him, but he fun nonetheless. And what's cuter than a little chunk struggling to walk in the snow?</div>
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On Saturday, we headed out with Jeremy's family to see the How the Grinch Stole Christmas at the Detroit Opera House. We are starting a new tradition, and the first year was a huge success. Because we know our son all too well, and knew he would NEVER make it through the show, he stayed home with my parents during the show. The Opera House was GORGEOUS and the show was SO cute! </div>
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After the show, we headed back to the Teltow homestead for dinner, presents, and games. Landon scored, AGAIN, and more great memories were made. I feel so truly blessed to be a part of the families that I am. </div>
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As unbelievably exhausted as we were, we headed to Dave and Brianna's today for our FINAL Christmas celebration with the Best Good Friends. Again, so blessed to have the friends I have in my world. At one point, the girls were upstairs, and I was sitting downstairs with all our men, and a sleeping baby on my chest, and as I listened to our husbands and boyfriends all talk, I couldn't help but wonder, "Whoa. When did we grow up?". They were having real, adult conversations, and it was as though it suddenly hit me that we aren't in high school any more talking about meaningless things (as if the weddings and the kid didn't show me that already?). But....I've gotta say, we all did damn good. We have all chosen some amazing men (and let's face it, they got some pretty incredible women), and I love how well they all get along, so that these kinds of gatherings can be possible. Way to go, girls. And I can't wait for the day when the whole house is filled with all our children (you know.....so Landon has something to entertain him other than the stairs), because I know they'll all love each other the same way too. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, really.</div>
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So that's that. It's finally over. I love Christmas, don't get me wrong, but it was truly exhausting this year, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the calm after the storm. Christmas decorations are all coming down tomorrow and New Year's Day, and our house will finally be back to normal, and HOPEFULLY, Landon will only take a day or two to settle back into our normal routine. Because this mama is beat, and he is too. We need our routine to stay sane, clearly.</div>
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I'm working on my whole list of resolutions, so keep your eyes peeled. I have a lot I'm promising myself this year, and in my heart, I feel like if I put it in print, here, for you all to see, I'll be held more accountable, and more likely to succeed. We'll see. Right now, I'm still drafting ;)</div>
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Hope all of your Christmases were as merry and love filled as ours!!! </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-49675843789520938262012-12-17T06:12:00.004-08:002012-12-17T06:12:35.171-08:00Writing With A Loss Of WordsI have not neglected this blog because I am lazy, disinterested, or "over it". Before Friday, December 14, at 9:38AM, it was simply because I was busy, stressed, overwhelmed. After Friday, it was because I was at a loss for words.<br />
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There is not anything I can say to even scrape the surface of the heartbreak and utter sadness that we all feel over the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary. I could sit here all day, and still not be able to put into words how I really feel. I wish I could say I was numb, that it was just so catastrophic, I can't feel a thing. But no; I am devastated, hurt, and more aware of my little blessing than ever before.<br />
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For someone who is trying to rediscover her faith in God, and trying to work harder at trusting him wholeheartedly, this could easily derail me. But I'm trying to set that part of me aside. Trying to tell her that God wanted those 20 beautiful babies back with him, because they were too good to be here another second. That they are safe, and happy, and will never feel another ounce of hurt again. That God knew what he was doing.<br />
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But the mommy in me, can't fathom it. Can't understand. Cannot even BEGIN to imagine the unbelievable hurt and anguish that 20 mommies in Connecticut are feeling this morning. This morning, as they grieve because their babies aren't home, as I sit here and watch my healthy, happy, SAFE, little boy run through the house chasing his cat, stopping every few minutes to say "Hi, Mommy" ("Mommy", which he just started to say yesterday. It's no longer "Mama", but "Mommy").<br />
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My heart is broken, and continues to break further, every time I see the face of one of those angels. I sat on my couch in tears on Friday afternoon watching the coverage, as my innocent baby slept soundly in his crib. When my mother in law showed up, she had no idea what was going on. She had been out all day, and didn't have her radio on. As we sat here, together, watching in horror, as the numbers continued to grow, as the story continued to develop, both of us, strong, Christian women, felt so much question in our hearts as to why this was happening.<br />
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There is no answer. There never will be. The shooter was sick, he was not right. He did not get the treatment that he NEEDED. And as hard as it is to say that he deserved anything other than a lifetime of burning in hell for all the hurt he caused, he DESERVED help before he got to the point that made him feel that taking the lives of 20 innocent children was the only answer. And the only opinion I will offer here, is that people need to start looking harder at the illnesses that cause this type of thing, and getting those individuals HELP, instead of just writing them off as a lost cause. Because now, there are 20 mothers without their children, because ONE mother wasn't able to help hers enough. This is in no way a discussion over gun control, etc. There will never be a gun in this house. My child will never have a play gun, or a video game that involves gun. That is just what works for us. My father in law has several guns, locked up, hidden. I have never seen them, and I will make sure Landon never does. That's what works for them. Do I fear that one day he will go off the deep end and shoot up an elementary school? Or his family? Absolutely not. Did anyone ever assume that this man would do such a thing? Probably not. Only God knows. Guns scare me, point blank. People scare me more.<br />
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I am trying, with every ounce of my being, to trust God during this time. To know that he has a plan, and that his plan for those children was bigger than what they could fulfill here. I am trying to find comfort in knowing that they are safe in the arms of Jesus today. I am <i>trying</i>. I am soaking up every piece of my gorgeous son, THANKING God that He has given me the opportunity to mother such a perfect boy. Thanking God that my son was not one of the 20 killed, so senselessly. Praying that those mothers and fathers find peace, in some way, although it seems impossible. If I could hold each of them and cry with them for hours, I would. I think that's all anybody wants to do right now. Just hug those parents, or more so, hold those children. I am praying, harder than I have ever prayed before, for some form of understanding and some ease from this heartbreak.<br />
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The teacher in me, now, must say, how blown away, amazed, and humbled I am by the teachers who helped to save so many more children. I am so proud to say that I am part of a group of individuals that could so selflessly put themselves in the line of fire to save their students lives. Each of those women is an inspiration, and I hope a wake up call to anyone who considers teachers just mere "babysitters". Take this for what its worth. Those women did what any of us would do, what we were trained to do, what we vowed to do the day we received our degrees. They are HEROES. And to me, all the other teachers out there are as well. My thoughts are with each of my teacher friends as they walk back into their classrooms today, and have to try to explain to their students that they are safe, they are ok. My heart is with you all today.<br />
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I don't have it in me to sit here and rehash our full weekend, or spew out how obsessed with the stomach virus and preventing it I have become. None of it means anything in the light of everything else happening. I know that each of those 20 mothers would give anything to be worrying about their children getting the stomach flu, instead of planning their funerals. I will take the worrying, I will even take the flu, if it happens to find us. Because I have my baby here, to take care of, to hold, to love.<br />
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Now go hug the children in your life. Your children, your siblings children, your neighbors children. Any child. Just hug them, and thank God that they are ok. Love them. And join me in trying to trust that this all happened for a reason, even if it seems impossible.<br />
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And, if nothing else, remember these gorgeous faces.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-44766241254190631052012-12-07T10:40:00.004-08:002012-12-07T10:42:56.497-08:00NestingHappy Friday!! Hope you have all survived this week happy and healthy!<br />
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Our week consisted of a whole lot of staying home, staying cozy, and *cough* germ free *cough*.<br />
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It's no secret that one of my biggest anxieties is germs. Mainly, germs that make me, or my loved ones, throw up. Petrified of vomit doesn't really even begin to explain what I feel at this time of year. And hearing that Macomb County is number 1 on the list of counties currently being trampled by the stomach virus, really didn't help matters. So I took it upon myself to make ZERO plans for us this week. We just stayed inside, where we were safe from those God awful germs, and let me say, I have loved every single second of it.<br />
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Most days, we didn't get out of our PJ's until nap time. And then? Just into sweats.<br />
I enjoyed a few nap time baths, which were pure bliss.<br />
I found great relief in my Lysol spray, and knowing that once everything was sprayed, we were good, because we weren't going anywhere to pick up any other germs.<br />
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Sounds insane, I know. But you know what? This is what works for me. Jeremy even commented Wednesday night that I seemed to be in a much better mood. And I knew exactly why. Because I wasn't stressed and freaked out over what I exposed myself and Landon to that day. I knew we were safe. I've slept better, knowing that Landon (most likely) wasn't going to wake up puking. I've just relaxed entirely. It has been wonderful. And I'm elated for a Friday night in with my boys, and a whole weekend of curling up inside, too.<br />
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Anxiety DOES come, when I think about the next couple weeks. Next week alone, we have things that require us to be out of the house nearly every day. One of which is Landon's 18 month well check. Which will take us right to the center of the germ fest at the pediatricians office. BUT. I have (as usual) been doing my research, and you bet your ass that as soon as we get home, his clothes will come off, and he will be in the bathtub. Obsessive? Maybe. Keeping my sanity? Definitely. Am I dumb enough to think that my neurosis will 100% keep us safe? No. I know it's still possible to get it, and sadly, we probably will. I'm sure it'll creep in on Jeremy when he comes home from work one day. But, at least I'll know I have done everything I could to prevent it.<br />
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What saddens me most, is that next weekend holds two Christmas parties, a Santa brunch, and a birthday party for us, and I <i>know</i>, the freak in me probably won't truly enjoy herself. She'll be watching every face, wondering if they always look that way, or if they are sick. Watching every move Landon makes, afraid he's going to touch something and then put his hands in his mouth, and that's it. Game over. It's ridiculous, and I know it is, but it's who I am. And I'm trying to control it all with insane amounts of hand sanitizer, Lysol spray, and seclusion. But I know I can't do it 24/7. I would probably get some pretty nasty looks if I started spraying other peoples children with Lysol. But hey, all of you who are going to be at one or more of these crazy germ fests we'll be at next weekend, do me (and really, everybody else) a favor, and if you or your kids have been sick within the week, think about skipping out. I can promise you if it is me or my family, we won't be there. I can handle a stuffy nose, I can handle a sore throat. I CANNOT handle it when people show up, and after their child has stuck their face right into Landon's, they tell me, "Oh yeah, she was throwing up all night. But she seems ok now!" NO. She's not ok. Do your research. She's still spreading it. 6 hours of puke free doesn't make her safe. I promise.<br />
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Ok. I know I sound like an overbearing, crazy of a person. And I probably am. But come on. Does ANYBODY enjoy being sick? No. So why inflict it on anybody else just so you don't miss out on a few drinks and laughs. Really. End rant.<br />
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On a happier note, today has been the epitome of our happy days inside. Woke up, ate our breakfast and played, I FINALLY finished addressing the last group of Christmas cards, so we took a trip to the post office in our PJ's (just drove through, I'm not <i>that</i> girl, I promise). Came home, and since there was a break in the rain, and Landon was deserving of some fresh air, we bundled up and went for a walk! It was brisk, but it felt good! Came back, had a little dance party with Dora, ate lunch, and now I have a happily napping child, and I just took my second nap time, mid-afternoon bath of the week. Lovely. Going to enjoy the quiet and just let myself relax for a while, then whip up some dinner in the crock pot, and plan a night in of movie watching and cuddling with my fellas. Sounds pretty perfect to me!<br />
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Hope you all have a wonderful, sick-free, weekend!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-29126797696459826252012-12-03T11:03:00.000-08:002012-12-03T11:03:21.507-08:00A Letter to MeAhh, Monday. We meet again. I hope this Monday finds you all well rested after a good weekend!<br />
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We spent our weekend celebrating Jeremy's 33rd birthday! Date night, church, and dinner with our parents, followed by entertainment provided by Landon. I think he was pleased with the way he spent his birthday weekend....at least I hope he was!<br />
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Birthdays always make me feel retrospective. I don't know why. Maybe just the turning of another year, who knows. But I always feel a little nostalgic around birthdays. Jeremy has an unbelievable attitude towards life, and I know he looks back and has no regrets about what he has done or where he has been. I admire that so much in him. I wish I could be more like him in that respect. Not that I have horrible regrets, just things that I may have done differently if I had known what I know now.<br />
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But that's the beauty. I didn't know what I know now, so I did things the way I did. And all those things got me to exactly where I am today. So no, I wouldn't change a thing. But I do sometimes wish I could talk to myself from back in the day, and let her know it's all going to work out. She doesn't need to worry so much, or be so afraid.<br />
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So I was thinking. If I could write a letter to myself, at say, 10 years old, what would I tell me? I've put a lot of thought into this, and I've spent a couple weeks trying to really decide how I would articulate what I would want to say. This is what I've come up with. So, old me, in case you are caught in some weird time continuum, and you happen to be reading this, take it to heart. I mean every single word.<br />
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Dear Me,<br />
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Before you do another thing, take another breath, go find your grandparents. Hug them. Ask them questions. Listen to their stories. Love them. The day is coming when they won't be there anymore. And you will feel, every day, like a piece of your heart has gone missing. It has. You will spend years grieving, missing, and longing for them. Don't dismiss them while they're here. Listen to the war stories for the 20th time, and then ask to hear it for the 21st. When your son is born, you will give anything for him to be able to hear those stories, first hand, but he won't be able to. Listen closely, so you can tell him yourself. Ask questions about every single nutcracker and teddy bear. They each have a special meaning. Know what it is. You don't want to have to wonder. Know that none of them are invincible, no matter how much they seem like they are. They will be here one day, and the next they'll be gone. And you will be heartbroken. And fair warning, Grandma Green will have a LOT of close calls. Be there by her side for each of them, and then thank God when she pulls through time after time. And pray that you have that trait in yourself.<br />
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You're going to spend a lot of time alone on the elementary school playground. You are NEVER going to be the "cool" kid....ever. So stop trying to be. Know that you don't need to be popular to be loved. You will have amazing friends, and they will think you are wonderful, despite your "social status". High school ends. You grow up. How popular you were, what you did on Friday nights, or what lunch table you sat at, won't matter forever. So spend your Friday nights on your parents living room floor, with your best good friends, watching movies and being silly. Don't go to the parties where they're drinking and smoking. You don't need to....and you won't be invited anyway. But instead of being sad, be grateful. You turn out just fine, "uncool" or not. And one day, you are going to be SO proud to tell your son, in total honesty, that you didn't do those things. That a cigarette never touched your lips. That drugs never crossed your radar. That it took until your sophomore year of COLLEGE to get "drunk". He'll probably think you're a loser, too. But that's ok.<br />
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You will fall in love, and everybody will tell you you're too young to be in love. And it will take him years to see you as anything more than just "Kelly". But he will. Eventually. And you'll have an amazing few months. A few months that you will hold in a special place in your heart, forever. You will learn lessons, you'll get hurt, and you'll shed a lot of tears. But you'll love. And it WILL be real. And in the very end, after all the hurt and tears, you'll be much happier with the friend than with the boyfriend. I promise.<br />
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You'll move on, and you'll love again. You'll learn what it's like to be in a "real relationship". You'll have a lot of firsts, and you'll grow up. In the end, you'll get hurt. Hurt in a way that makes you feel like there is nobody you can trust, like your world is crashing down around you, and that you'll never feel ok again. You will. But let it hurt. Let your heart feel like it's crumbling. Learn what it feels like when you wake up and you realize it's ok. You're not breaking. When you finally realize that you <i>can</i> breathe without him. And lean on the people that love you. When they say you're going to be ok, believe them. Trust <i>them</i>. They aren't lying.<br />
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You might always have days that you are just sad. For no reason, just sad. But you will always get told how happy and upbeat you are. Appreciate that, even if you don't feel that. And don't apologize for being sad on those days, or for not having a reason. You will have to work to be happy, but you can do it. You CAN be happy. Put your mind to it, and don't let the bad days set you back. Just take them and move on. But always have someone you can talk to, when everybody else thinks you're fine, but you're not. Have that person and love that person. They will be your saving grace, and they won't judge you for not being perfect, and chipper, and happy. They'll just love you. That person will change over the years, and that's ok. Just make sure you always have one. And PS, your mom will ALWAYS be one of those people. You <strike>don't have to </strike>can't act for her.<br />
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You will do the rebound thing, whether you want to admit it or not. You will say yes to the first boy who promises not to hurt you, because you know he won't. But you can't make the same promise. You won't be ready, and you won't want to listen to the people who tell you you aren't. It's a lesson. Don't change it, just learn from it. And hand out apologies. No matter how long after the fact. Just do it. You don't want to be "that girl".<br />
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You will find true, without exception, unconditional love where you least expect it. You will go into an evening determined not to fall into old habits, and come out with a new sense of hope. As hard as it is, let your guard down. I promise, it will be worth it. So go out, even though you're tired. Let yourself fall, even though your brain is telling you not to. And don't forget to let your mother know, as soon as you get home, that you've met your future husband. You're not wrong. You ARE drunk, and she DOES think you're nuts. But you're NOT wrong.<br />
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You will discover your true purpose in a 5 lb, 14 oz miracle. You will fall harder than you have ever fallen, in a single instant. You think you know what love is, but you have no idea. Not until you look into the most gorgeous set of brown eyes you will ever see. Not until you get lost in dimples so deep, you feel like you could drown every hurt you've ever had in them. Nothing else will matter any more. All the rest will fade away, I promise you. Your son will be the only boy who matters. Forever.<br />
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Always take the time say "Thank You" to the people who hold the door for you. They appreciate it. Smile at the stranger who looks like they need one. You will make a difference. Just be friendly. There is enough anger and nasty in the world. Be a bright spot, it's simple to do.<br />
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Love the crap out of your parents. Even when you think they are "the most unfair parents....ever". They're not. They're perfect. They are making a person you'll be proud to be someday. They're keeping you out of trouble and harms way. Don't ever question how much they love you. You won't get it until you're a mom, so don't try. Just know that one day, it'll all make perfect sense, and you'll know how amazing they really are.<br />
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You'll make friends and you'll lose friends. That's life. Don't be sad, just learn from it. You'll learn quickly who your real friends are. Hold onto them for dear life. Fight with them if you have to, but then get over it. Come back together. Lean on each other. You can't go through life without friends. Your "type" of friend will change, but you've got a special few that won't go anywhere. No matter what. Tell them you appreciate it. Every chance you get.<br />
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You're always going to worry about what people think of you, I wish I could say you get over that, but you don't. But you learn to care a little less.<br />
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You will learn that nobody knows your child better than you. Don't ever let anyone try to convince you they do. YOU are Mommy. End of story.<br />
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You will turn out ok. You will have a bruised heart, but it will be mended by a husband who loves you and a son who thinks you're perfect. You will have bad days, but you will have many more good days. You will have regrets, but they just go to prove that you have a heart. A good heart. You will get to where you want to be. You <i>will</i> be complete. Don't rush it. Take it all in, no matter how much it hurts. It's worth it.<br />
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Oh, and hey, smile. And have fun.<br />
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Love,<br />
You.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16410265724626761958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685070344471150875.post-4033480693105883592012-11-27T06:09:00.004-08:002012-11-27T06:17:01.197-08:00A Bursting HeartThe last few days have been fun and loved filled, and my heart is bursting at the seams a bit.<br />
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Saturday we took our trip to the Christmas tree farm. A trip that I thought was well planned out, organized, and sure to be a success.<br />
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Landon was bundled so tight he could hardly move, which, in my mama brain, I thought was a good thing. But it took him about 30 seconds into the wagon ride out to the field to start screaming "GET OUT!!!!" and have his mittens ripped off his hands. So...we tried to let him roam once we got out to the field. But, like I said, he was bundled so tight, any type of movement was a bit of a challenge. So he got scooped up by some loving arms instead (which, lets face it, is THE best way to look for a Christmas tree. Just ask two year old me and my Gaga).</div>
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These men make my heart <i>explode</i>.</div>
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We continued on our hunt, all the while trying to keep Landon's hands covered, which proved to be impossible. Eventually, he just hit full out meltdown mode, really, unlike any we have ever seen before. I'm talking screaming and crying so hard he nearly made himself vomit. Thankfully, again, our universe collided with that of some more wonderful strangers, who gave him their phone, tried singing to him, gave him hand warmers, and tried telling me that it was ok; basically I wasn't a horrible mom for trying to make memories for my toddler in the freezing cold. They were wonderful, and I can add them to the list of things I'm thankful for this season. For sure.</div>
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We finally decided on a tree, and the men set to chopping it down, and my mom, the babe and I, jumped on the first wagon out of the torture chamber. Of course, our wagon took us on a nice scenic ride around the <i>entire</i> farm, and by the time we got back to the loading spot, Jeremy and my dad were already on their wagon. Oh well, we all got back to the warmth safely and (for the most part) in one piece.</div>
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The second Landon was back into a warm building, he was back to his normal, cheerful self. Aside from the few times he flung himself on the dirty, dirty floor. But once a donut was in hand, the hat was off his head, and he could move his limbs, he was good. </div>
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We came home, and had a nice dinner, and a wonderful time decorating our nice, fresh tree. Grandpa and Landon snuck in a little reading and snuggle time, too.</div>
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It was what I would call a perfect day, aside from the near-puke inducing meltdown. But hey, that just adds to the story, right? Riiiiight.</div>
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Sunday we celebrated my Grandmother's <span style="font-size: large; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">91st</span> Birthday. 91 years!!! We all have agreed that the woman must have at least 9 lives, because this year alone, we all gathered by her hospital bed several times, sure she was leaving us. But, here we are, a day before her 91st Birthday, and she is still going strong. She amazes me. Daily.</div>
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Here is where I must gush about my Grandmother a little bit. At 91 years old, she still has more spunk, attitude, and fire in her than most people MY age. She's a fiesty little one. She has a tendency to be brutally honest, like the day she told me it looked like I didn't brush my hair, and I looked "pretty bad" on our way to a family birthday party. Or when she told me, after me driving 90 miles an hour to get to the hospital, because everyone was sure she was going, that she really didn't like my hair dark. "It really doesn't look good". Or maybe the time she told my mom she should ask my cousin if she could have some of her old maternity clothes. Coming from anybody else, these comments would make me want to crawl into a hole. But no, when they're from Grandma, they are just flat out hilarious. Up until about 6 months ago, this is also the woman who would get down on the FLOOR to play with Landon, and who took great pride in the fact that she could sit with her legs straight out in front of her and touch her toes, and I couldn't. The hardest days were watching her sit in that hospital bed, so small and frail, looking like she couldn't do anything, because I knew in her heart, how much she was still capable of. She is, hands down, the strongest woman I know. This year alone, she has battled her leukemia, survived multiple blood clots in her lungs, a double transfusion, surgery to place a screen in her leg, and endless pain. And yet, on Sunday, there she was. So thrilled to have all her kids, grandkids, and great grandkids in one room...to celebrate <i>her</i>. It was a beautiful, beautiful day. For all of us.</div>
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When I see Landon playing with his cousins, my heart, again, wants to burst. Reminds me so much of all the fun and love between myself and my cousins when we were younger. And I look at us now, and as I watch our kids all play together, I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. I know how amazing it must be for Grandma to be able to have seen her kids as young children, then her grandkids, and now her great grandkids. And the fact that we ALL love each other? Even better ;)</div>
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So much love for this woman. Without her, none of us would be here, living and loving each other. Happy, HAPPY birthday to our backbone. WE LOVE YOU!!!!!</div>
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Yesterday, Landon and I took a mental health day. We stayed in pajama's until after lunch, we did crafts, and we snuggled and slept on the couch. It was, hands down, one of our very best days. Nothing on the agenda except each other, and lots of love. Again, so thankful that I am able to have those days. Today, I have to make up for everything I didn't do yesterday. But, per one of my promises to God, I am making time <i>every</i> day for snuggles, love, and just enjoying <i>each other</i>. My chances to do that will be gone before I know it. When I'm sitting in an empty house while he as at school, or off playing with his friends. So I better soak it all up now.</div>
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I'm also in the middle of working on another one of my promises to God. I'm trying not to complain. {Cue my mothers laughter as she thinks back to Saturday's Christmas tree debacle} I know how lucky I am, I really, truly do. I have amazing parents. A wonderful husband. A healthy son. A house over my head. Food in my cupboard. Money in the bank. I'm <i>healthy.</i> I have been blessed with so much more than I deserve, and I know that. Yet, I still let myself get caught up in the small things. And then I let myself complain. And I need to stop. I need to stop and think about all the amazing, wonderful things in my life. Am I naive enough to think that I will never, ever, complain again? Um no. I know I will. And the vast majority of it will be unwarranted. But every now and then, everybody needs to get it out. Because sometimes, all those little things DO add up, and I they DO feel HUGE and overwhelming. And that's ok. But at the end of the rant, I need to step back and see it for what its worth. Little. Minor. And I'm working on it. I'm far from being where I want to be, but I promised God that I would TRY, not that I would fix it all over night. And I have faith that He sees my effort. </div>
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I also have faith that He sees my effort in rediscovering my faith. I have always gone to church. I have always prayed. I have always believed. But I haven't always trusted. I've fought with God, been angry, and thought that there was no way He could possibly know what he was doing (because, let's be honest, a 9th grade heartbreak is TOTAL reason to be angry with God and think He hates you). But look at me. He did. He has gotten me here. And who am I to question Him? With all he has blessed me with? A bad day and suddenly I think He doesn't know what he's doing and He must want to see me suffer? Oh, Kelly. And so I'm working on learning to trust Him. To know that He has a plan, and I can't fight it, argue with it, or change it. I have to just trust in it, and go with it. To know that He loves me. Easier said than done, but I hope He can also see that I'm <i>really, really</i> trying here. </div>
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And now it's time to throw in some laundry and then soak up some time singing and dancing with my favorite little man. Time to ENJOY today. Hope you all do the same!</div>
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