I've been reading everyone's posts about being thankful and it got me thinking about things I am thankful for. The one nice (but also sometimes annoying) feature of Facebook, is that there are always quotes being posted. Things to think about. There are two that come to mind now.
The first is that "Christmas is a time when we feel homesick, even if we are already at home." The second is to "be thankful for the things you have, because they were afterall, things you had once wished for." I think they are both pretty powerful if you give them some thought. I also think they tie in together well.
I think it is human nature to always be slightly dissatisfied. Always long for something more. When we are children, we can't wait to grow up. In high school, we can't wait for college. In college, we can't wait to graduate and start a new adventure. With marriage, eventually comes the desire for children. The list goes on and on. It is not necessarily a bad thing. On some level, it keeps us going. We need new things to work toward. New things to experience, to conquer. But we are never quite fulfilled, are we? When I saw the quote about Christmas, it got me thinking. First of all, how true I personally found it to be. You can be surrounded by loving family, great food, great memories - and still feel a little stirring in your soul. A little pit in your stomach, I think we can feel homesick at home because we are not truly "home".
How fitting that it be on Christmas of all holidays that we might feel this longing, this stirring the strongest. It is afterall, Jesus's birthday. We know this in our mind, but perhaps glaze over it by following the trends, making New Year's resolutions. Ways we think we can be more fulfilled for the next year. I believe that this feeling is our longing for our heavenly home. For our Heavenly Father. He is the one stirring in our soul.
Philippians 3:20
"But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the
Lord Jesus Christ"
2 Corinthians 5:2
"Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling"
Now I am not saying that we just scrap life on earth and wait for heaven. I want to live a long, fruitful, happy life here. But I think I realize that we will never be truly satisfied on earth. In realizing this, I believe it frees me of some of the discontent. God gives us little glimpses of heaven. Reflections of Himself. Every day. Yes, every day. These keep us going, running toward the goal. They bring us the true joy. It is for these things I find I am truly thankful.
"Be thankful for the things you have, because they were afterall, things you had once wished for." Of course not everything in our lives are things we hoped for. Things we wished for. But if you stop and think, a lot of them probably are. And with them, came glimpses of our Heavenly Father. It's easy to miss these. Easy to become disconnected, too preoccupied with the next thing. It's hard to live in the moment. And yet we are instructed to.
Matthew 6:34
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
I like this quote:
"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. And today? Today is a gift.
That's why we call it the present." ~Babatunde Olatunji
I think these moments can be as simple as driving your first car, windows down, warm breeze in your hair. Feeling of freedom. God gave you that freedom, you know. You didn't really care back then if you were driving a clunker or not - you just enjoyed the moment for what it was. The warmth of my children's hugs. The joy in their laughter. The honesty in their commentary. Reflections of a warm, loving, honest God. When they are all driving me nuts, it's hard to keep this thankful attitude. But I find it encouraging that the old ladies who tell you to soak it all up, cherish every moment probably DO remember some of the hard times with their children. But not all of them. The memories that stick with them are the glimpses of God. The reflections of Him that were revealed to them through those little ones, so fresh from His arms.
I was grabbing a cup of coffee this afternoon to give me an energy boost to get through the day. The kids had just finished lunch and were happily running laps around the downstairs. Giggles, squeals, pit stops to kiss mom. It honestly brought tears to my eyes thinking - THIS is one thing I am truly thankful for. At this stage in my life, it is through them that I feel God revealed to me the most. Sure they often drive me nuts. They often exhaust me to tears. But you know what, they bring me so much joy and meaning. They are gifts.
This holiday season, I am thankful for my Heavenly Father and all of the ways He chooses to reveal Himself to me. I want to work harder at recognizing these moments. I am thankful for those pieces of Him that dwell within me. I want to work harder at letting them shine for everyone else to see.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
'Mom of the Year' Award
So I had one of those moments the other day, where I realized that I was "that" mom. It was slightly disturbing, I'm not gonna lie. Let me set the stage for you....
So it was a whiny morning for my kids. Not sure why, but everything we did seemed like a chore. We took Addison to preschool, came home and the boys and I ate lunch, played a little bit and then headed back to pick her up.
So we pull into the parking lot and I am considering my options. Do I unload the boys and load them into their stroller to get her - or just say screw it and let them walk in with me. Sounds silly, but by the time I get these almost 30 pound turkeys changed, into their winter coats and shoes and then into their carseats - the last thing I feel like doing is unloading the chubs, then immediately loading them into the double stroller only to unload them from the stroller 10mins later once we have Addison, then load them BACK into their carseats only to drive home and unload them yet AGAIN to bring them into their house! Self inflicted, yes. However, letting Addison have an escape twice a week where she can learn and play with other kids her age is worth it to me.
Well, I chose to let them walk in. And by walk in, I mean I carry Lucas and hold Evan's hand. Evan holds my hand with a death grip while in public, while Lucas tends to let go - so I figure this is the safest route. So in we go. So far so good. We get to Addison's classroom and they are running a bit late. They are still cleaning up their last project so the door is closed and we are waiting outside with some other moms and siblings. In my head I am hoping to God that the boys will be patient and not wiggle or run off to explore on me. I am totally outnumbered here. This could be bad...
To my delight, Lucas was happy to sit in my arms and Evan happy to hold my hand and watch the other kids while we waited. Ok, great. Almost ready. As my arm gets more and more fatigued holding Lucas I am wondering why today of all days I chose to leave the stroller in the car and her class has to be running 15mins late!
Finally, the door opens and out she comes and we collect her things to leave. Also to my delight, the boys are happy to wait while we do this and stick closeby. Then we assume our stance again, Lucas back in my arms and Evan holding my hand. Addison walking next to us. Out into the parking lot we go. Almost to the van when Addison decides she's going to switch up her route and walk the rest of the way on the grass instead of the pavement. Not a big deal, except the reason I was staying on the pavement was because the grass makes the boys think it's time to go run and play and when they see Addison do this - 'walking nicely' time is officially over.
Crap.
So I have to keep them safe, obviously. And to do this I called Addison back and she listened, but it was too late for the boys. So I have no choice but to assume the football hold with both boys, one under each arm. Both writhing around mad and impatient. Thank God for automatic van doors as I clumsily fumbled for the button, while trying not to drop them. I got the door to open and more or less chucked the boys in. This probably looked bad. Maybe it was bad. But it was better than having them be hit by a car. In I follow as fast as I can and shut the van door.
Phew. Everyone in. Wait, it probably just looked like I kidnapped these kids. Oh screw it. 'Way to go Shawn', I think. Next time take the extra time and hassle to get them in the stroller!
Well, it doesn't end here.
Now I have two pissed off toddlers roaming the van screaming mad. In my attempts to wrastle them down and buckle them into their seats, I hear Addison start to pitch a fit. 'WHAT NOW?' I am thinking. So I ask her what's wrong over the chorus of all three screaming, she tells me:
"Your butt smacked my face!" Oh wonderful.
Now, I by no means claim to be a stick thin girl, but I also have a hard time believing that my ars, somehow severely smacked Addison in the face while she was up sitting in her carseat no less. There were no marks, no blood - just a girl that has a set of lungs when she chooses to and now was the time that she chose to SCREAM about it.
Up comes an elderly lady who was leaving the Y. She stops at my van, comes close to the tinted back window and GLARES in at me when we make eye contact as I am trying to buckle Lucas in.
Now I am wrestling children into their seats, wondering how in the heck it suddenly got so hot outside because I am at this point totally exhausted and sweating profusely. My inital reaction is to think "Back off old lady and mind your own business, everything is TOTALLY under control! (ok, not even close, but get lost...)". Although after the fact, I realize it's a good thing there are people who would check a van of screaming children to be sure that they were not left in there or being abused. But as she backed away, got in her car and pulled out - she was glaring at me the entire time. This really annoyed me.
"You have no idea!!!" I wanted to scream.... "NOOOOO IDEAAAAAAA!!"
So yes, as soon as we pulled away - the boys fell asleep, Addison was totally recovered from getting 'abused' by my rear end and we drove in silence, the entire time I am thinking.
'Mom of the Year' award, Shawn. 'Mom of the Year' award.
Can I take a nap?
So it was a whiny morning for my kids. Not sure why, but everything we did seemed like a chore. We took Addison to preschool, came home and the boys and I ate lunch, played a little bit and then headed back to pick her up.
So we pull into the parking lot and I am considering my options. Do I unload the boys and load them into their stroller to get her - or just say screw it and let them walk in with me. Sounds silly, but by the time I get these almost 30 pound turkeys changed, into their winter coats and shoes and then into their carseats - the last thing I feel like doing is unloading the chubs, then immediately loading them into the double stroller only to unload them from the stroller 10mins later once we have Addison, then load them BACK into their carseats only to drive home and unload them yet AGAIN to bring them into their house! Self inflicted, yes. However, letting Addison have an escape twice a week where she can learn and play with other kids her age is worth it to me.
Well, I chose to let them walk in. And by walk in, I mean I carry Lucas and hold Evan's hand. Evan holds my hand with a death grip while in public, while Lucas tends to let go - so I figure this is the safest route. So in we go. So far so good. We get to Addison's classroom and they are running a bit late. They are still cleaning up their last project so the door is closed and we are waiting outside with some other moms and siblings. In my head I am hoping to God that the boys will be patient and not wiggle or run off to explore on me. I am totally outnumbered here. This could be bad...
To my delight, Lucas was happy to sit in my arms and Evan happy to hold my hand and watch the other kids while we waited. Ok, great. Almost ready. As my arm gets more and more fatigued holding Lucas I am wondering why today of all days I chose to leave the stroller in the car and her class has to be running 15mins late!
Finally, the door opens and out she comes and we collect her things to leave. Also to my delight, the boys are happy to wait while we do this and stick closeby. Then we assume our stance again, Lucas back in my arms and Evan holding my hand. Addison walking next to us. Out into the parking lot we go. Almost to the van when Addison decides she's going to switch up her route and walk the rest of the way on the grass instead of the pavement. Not a big deal, except the reason I was staying on the pavement was because the grass makes the boys think it's time to go run and play and when they see Addison do this - 'walking nicely' time is officially over.
Crap.
So I have to keep them safe, obviously. And to do this I called Addison back and she listened, but it was too late for the boys. So I have no choice but to assume the football hold with both boys, one under each arm. Both writhing around mad and impatient. Thank God for automatic van doors as I clumsily fumbled for the button, while trying not to drop them. I got the door to open and more or less chucked the boys in. This probably looked bad. Maybe it was bad. But it was better than having them be hit by a car. In I follow as fast as I can and shut the van door.
Phew. Everyone in. Wait, it probably just looked like I kidnapped these kids. Oh screw it. 'Way to go Shawn', I think. Next time take the extra time and hassle to get them in the stroller!
Well, it doesn't end here.
Now I have two pissed off toddlers roaming the van screaming mad. In my attempts to wrastle them down and buckle them into their seats, I hear Addison start to pitch a fit. 'WHAT NOW?' I am thinking. So I ask her what's wrong over the chorus of all three screaming, she tells me:
"Your butt smacked my face!" Oh wonderful.
Now, I by no means claim to be a stick thin girl, but I also have a hard time believing that my ars, somehow severely smacked Addison in the face while she was up sitting in her carseat no less. There were no marks, no blood - just a girl that has a set of lungs when she chooses to and now was the time that she chose to SCREAM about it.
Up comes an elderly lady who was leaving the Y. She stops at my van, comes close to the tinted back window and GLARES in at me when we make eye contact as I am trying to buckle Lucas in.
Now I am wrestling children into their seats, wondering how in the heck it suddenly got so hot outside because I am at this point totally exhausted and sweating profusely. My inital reaction is to think "Back off old lady and mind your own business, everything is TOTALLY under control! (ok, not even close, but get lost...)". Although after the fact, I realize it's a good thing there are people who would check a van of screaming children to be sure that they were not left in there or being abused. But as she backed away, got in her car and pulled out - she was glaring at me the entire time. This really annoyed me.
"You have no idea!!!" I wanted to scream.... "NOOOOO IDEAAAAAAA!!"
So yes, as soon as we pulled away - the boys fell asleep, Addison was totally recovered from getting 'abused' by my rear end and we drove in silence, the entire time I am thinking.
'Mom of the Year' award, Shawn. 'Mom of the Year' award.
Can I take a nap?
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
For a smile
So my blog was loosely intended to be an account of the funny things that go on in a household with three little ones. It's turned out to be more serious in the last few entries - so I figure a light hearted subject is overdue.
Once Addison was old enough to notice what we were watching on TV, our rights to the television were more or less handed over during her waking hours. Especially these days, you can't exactly watch an adult show with a 3 1/2 yr old asking "why" to each and everything she witnesses. Case and point, last weekend when she said in front of others "Hey Dad, are you going to watch the movie where that lady throws that guy's body off the balcony again?". Yikes. Granted, it was not a body - but a statue. Clearly she processed it otherwise. So the other day it dawns on Justin and I what a strange selection of odd kid tv shows we are subjected to on a daily basis...we were laughing hysterically.
We use the Netflix on Demand (or whatever that is called) for a lot of the shows Addison likes. It has a large selection of popular cartoons and children's movies. It's that or PBS Kids. Normally works out pretty well. The downfall: Netflix also contains the most random children's shows and cartoons. The ones you never wanted to see. The ones you wish you never saw. As Addison has gotten older, she wants nothing more than to try out these new shows. I literally can not even believe some of them have ever aired.
For some reason, she is gravitating toward shows that originate from Australia. Namely one called "Fairies: Meet the Fairies". Let's just say scroll to the 14 minute mark and get ready to watch a pervy wizard in an all too revealing silver spandex suit who prances around some low budget set singing about himself. HORRIBLE!! And yet she loves it. And wants to watch it everyday. And I sing his song in my head constantly. And am reminded of the awful spandex suit, bad camera angles and dance moves. Nuf said.
Let's not even discuss the part where they sing a song about "sliding, sliding, sliding down the slippery dip...". My guess is that something is lost in translation here, but let's just say the accent does not help it sound like anything G rated...and it's a tad disturbing to hear Addison playing and singing this tune to herself.
It's funny the songs and phrases children pick up on. We are working hard on Addison's filter. I sure loved walking out of Target last month as she announced to everyone in the parking lot that, "Look Mom, that lady is chubby like Lukey." Or walking into her dance class last night as she loudly recognized "the girl who didn't listen last week". Or shopping in Kroger as she asked me over and over again, "what is that GIRL doing?" (boy with long hair stocking the yogurt). I tried to say, "that BOY is stocking the yogurt". But she didn't buy it. Apparently, his hair was too long. Or at the twins first birthday party as everyone is eating their dinner, the conversation lulls and I hear her voice rise above everyone elses explicitly describing to those around her the details of her bout with the stomach flu last winter. And I mean explicitly. You have to be 100 steps ahead of this kid so as to quickly steer her in another direction before disaster occurs! It's impossible.
Oh, the interests and thought process of a 3 year old....!!
Once Addison was old enough to notice what we were watching on TV, our rights to the television were more or less handed over during her waking hours. Especially these days, you can't exactly watch an adult show with a 3 1/2 yr old asking "why" to each and everything she witnesses. Case and point, last weekend when she said in front of others "Hey Dad, are you going to watch the movie where that lady throws that guy's body off the balcony again?". Yikes. Granted, it was not a body - but a statue. Clearly she processed it otherwise. So the other day it dawns on Justin and I what a strange selection of odd kid tv shows we are subjected to on a daily basis...we were laughing hysterically.
We use the Netflix on Demand (or whatever that is called) for a lot of the shows Addison likes. It has a large selection of popular cartoons and children's movies. It's that or PBS Kids. Normally works out pretty well. The downfall: Netflix also contains the most random children's shows and cartoons. The ones you never wanted to see. The ones you wish you never saw. As Addison has gotten older, she wants nothing more than to try out these new shows. I literally can not even believe some of them have ever aired.
For some reason, she is gravitating toward shows that originate from Australia. Namely one called "Fairies: Meet the Fairies". Let's just say scroll to the 14 minute mark and get ready to watch a pervy wizard in an all too revealing silver spandex suit who prances around some low budget set singing about himself. HORRIBLE!! And yet she loves it. And wants to watch it everyday. And I sing his song in my head constantly. And am reminded of the awful spandex suit, bad camera angles and dance moves. Nuf said.
Let's not even discuss the part where they sing a song about "sliding, sliding, sliding down the slippery dip...". My guess is that something is lost in translation here, but let's just say the accent does not help it sound like anything G rated...and it's a tad disturbing to hear Addison playing and singing this tune to herself.
It's funny the songs and phrases children pick up on. We are working hard on Addison's filter. I sure loved walking out of Target last month as she announced to everyone in the parking lot that, "Look Mom, that lady is chubby like Lukey." Or walking into her dance class last night as she loudly recognized "the girl who didn't listen last week". Or shopping in Kroger as she asked me over and over again, "what is that GIRL doing?" (boy with long hair stocking the yogurt). I tried to say, "that BOY is stocking the yogurt". But she didn't buy it. Apparently, his hair was too long. Or at the twins first birthday party as everyone is eating their dinner, the conversation lulls and I hear her voice rise above everyone elses explicitly describing to those around her the details of her bout with the stomach flu last winter. And I mean explicitly. You have to be 100 steps ahead of this kid so as to quickly steer her in another direction before disaster occurs! It's impossible.
Oh, the interests and thought process of a 3 year old....!!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Redeeming moments
If there is one thing (among many others) that I believe my parents did right, it was to teach us kids to love each other unconditionally, support each other and be there for each other no matter what. We are family, blood. End of story.
I am so thankful for that. I love my one brother and three sisters to death. To this day, I can not think of a single time where one sibling was not speaking to another sibling, or even one fight that was more significant than those old high school squabbles such as "you borrowed my shirt without asking, now I want to wear it and I found it lying on your floor in a dirty pile of laundry....". :) My siblings are great. We have a tight bond. No matter how near or far we live, how often or seldom we see each other - there are certain jokes, places, memories that allow us to pick right up where we left off each and every time. This is something that I sincerely hope to instill into my children. Sure at this point they are only just under a year and a half and three and a half - but I think it's important, even at this stage.
In general, I am not a person who questions myself very often. Meaning, I usually have a pretty strong gut feeling about things, make a decision and live with it. I normally don't spend too much time looking back or wondering "what if I would have....". However, I've found with raising kids I become totally opposite! I have days where I wonder where in the world did I go wrong?! What have I done?! Did I spend too much time today worrying about a clean house when I could have been playing with my kids?! Did I handle that temper tantrum properly?! Am I treating all of them equally, spending enough quality time with each of them?! Why are all of my kids screaming and crying for no reason right now?! Why in the world are they fighting over each and every toy today?! How come each diaper change is the end of the world this week?! It's kind of pathetic.
I think this is magnified in me by everyone's assumption that simply because Addison has twin brothers, she must be insanely jealous of the attention they get and totally hate them for it. Or that simply because Lucas and Evan are twins, they will have some void of never getting enough one on one time from me. When we run into other parents of multiples (or even just other people in general) they ALWAYS ask me how Addison handles having twin brothers and then tell me a story about how their older siblings can't stand their twins or the attention they get. I kind of hate that. But in these moments, I am reminded of how lucky we are. Sure I believe that it was hard for Addison at just under 2 1/2 to understand the end of my pregnancy when I went on bed rest and everything that mom used to do with and for her was now being done by someone else. But she handled it pretty darn well in my opinion. I definitely think it was an adjustment for all of us learning how much time it would take for us to care for the twins in the beginning. Addison had her moments of acting out, moments of tears because she wanted me to be able to do everything the way we used to. But to be honest, I hear those same stories from my friends with singletons and even worse stories at that! Was the behavior due to the twins? Due to her being 2 1/2? In the end, maybe a combination of both. Either way, I think, gosh - if people could only see how she cares for them, waits patiently for them to be taken care of before her needs are met - I think they would be amazed. It's kind of hard for me to explain. But when I am reminded, I consider these moments to have such redeeming value in my quest for a tight knit family. In these moments I think, ok - maybe something really is headed in the right direction here.
Moments such as when Addison comes home from preschool and the boys run and tackle her with a hug....
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I am so thankful for that. I love my one brother and three sisters to death. To this day, I can not think of a single time where one sibling was not speaking to another sibling, or even one fight that was more significant than those old high school squabbles such as "you borrowed my shirt without asking, now I want to wear it and I found it lying on your floor in a dirty pile of laundry....". :) My siblings are great. We have a tight bond. No matter how near or far we live, how often or seldom we see each other - there are certain jokes, places, memories that allow us to pick right up where we left off each and every time. This is something that I sincerely hope to instill into my children. Sure at this point they are only just under a year and a half and three and a half - but I think it's important, even at this stage.
In general, I am not a person who questions myself very often. Meaning, I usually have a pretty strong gut feeling about things, make a decision and live with it. I normally don't spend too much time looking back or wondering "what if I would have....". However, I've found with raising kids I become totally opposite! I have days where I wonder where in the world did I go wrong?! What have I done?! Did I spend too much time today worrying about a clean house when I could have been playing with my kids?! Did I handle that temper tantrum properly?! Am I treating all of them equally, spending enough quality time with each of them?! Why are all of my kids screaming and crying for no reason right now?! Why in the world are they fighting over each and every toy today?! How come each diaper change is the end of the world this week?! It's kind of pathetic.
I think this is magnified in me by everyone's assumption that simply because Addison has twin brothers, she must be insanely jealous of the attention they get and totally hate them for it. Or that simply because Lucas and Evan are twins, they will have some void of never getting enough one on one time from me. When we run into other parents of multiples (or even just other people in general) they ALWAYS ask me how Addison handles having twin brothers and then tell me a story about how their older siblings can't stand their twins or the attention they get. I kind of hate that. But in these moments, I am reminded of how lucky we are. Sure I believe that it was hard for Addison at just under 2 1/2 to understand the end of my pregnancy when I went on bed rest and everything that mom used to do with and for her was now being done by someone else. But she handled it pretty darn well in my opinion. I definitely think it was an adjustment for all of us learning how much time it would take for us to care for the twins in the beginning. Addison had her moments of acting out, moments of tears because she wanted me to be able to do everything the way we used to. But to be honest, I hear those same stories from my friends with singletons and even worse stories at that! Was the behavior due to the twins? Due to her being 2 1/2? In the end, maybe a combination of both. Either way, I think, gosh - if people could only see how she cares for them, waits patiently for them to be taken care of before her needs are met - I think they would be amazed. It's kind of hard for me to explain. But when I am reminded, I consider these moments to have such redeeming value in my quest for a tight knit family. In these moments I think, ok - maybe something really is headed in the right direction here.
Moments such as when Addison comes home from preschool and the boys run and tackle her with a hug....
Moments when I take the first boy up to lay him down for a nap and come down to find that Addison has become a second mom to the one who was waiting downstairs for his turn. She had propped him up on a pillow, wrapped him in blankets and had given him a pacifier and is rubbing his head gently while he waits for me...
Moments where I find them all playing together happily, laughing and enjoying each other's company...forts, pretend trains, movies....
Of course we still have our ugly moments: temper tantrums, fights over toys, occasional pushes and shoves and of course I still do fear the teenage years and what all that brings (!!), but I find that God calms me down each evening when I lay them in bed and look at them peacefully sleeping. It's like His way of telling me "Forget today's shortcomings. You can do this again tomorrow. I don't call the qualified. I qualify the called."
I sure hope I do these three precious souls justice.
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Sunday, July 1, 2012
Milestones
So we have hit another milestone in the Vince household. The twins are weaned. Sounds funny to some, but this is a big step I think. Even with Addison, this moment was bittersweet. It is again as I go through it with the boys.
I never really thought it would be harder for me, than for the baby. In some ways it was! I remember half dreading, half looking forward to weaning Addison. I was pretty much ready to have my body entirely back to me and some of the freedoms that came along with being done breastfeeding. For instance, being able to take cold medicine when I had a cold :). However, as a mom - there is for sure that indescribable bond that forms when you nurse your baby and letting go of that is sometimes difficult. Perhaps it is coming to terms with the fact that your "baby" is becoming more of a "toddler". Or perhaps it is knowing that you won't be able to ever soothe them in quite the same way that you could when you nursed them. I'll always cherish the precious calm that overcame each one of my children as they nursed. There is nothing like witnessing your baby go limp with relaxation and watching how warm, secure, content and satisfied they are at that time.
I kind of tricked myself into being done nursing Addison. It was time and she was just over 1 yr and losing interest and I was ready to be done as well. We were down to only one feeding right before bed. One night she didn't seem to want to and so I put her to bed without nursing her and never looked back. I spared myself that feeling of "this is the last time I'll ever nurse her....etc". I told myself, you will nurse your other babies so don't feel down about being finished with the first one.
It's been an interesting ride with the twins. I wanted to be able to nurse them. I figured they would arrive premature and wanted to give them the benefits of breastmilk. I wanted to bond with them in the same way I had with my first child and not be forced into a different arrangement simply because they had arrived at the same time. While feeling all of this, I also forced myself to be open minded and realize that this was, in fact, a different situation and I might not be able to meet my expectations.
They were born about a month early and they didn't latch on well. I pumped milk for the first two months and gave it to them in bottles while trying to work with them on that. Picture pumping enough to feed TWO newborns who fed every 1 1/2 - 2hrs round the clock. I was a crazy person. I remember talking to a friend (also a mother of twins) who told me that you give everything to your children. It's OK to take your boobs back! Sometimes you have to look to what benefits your entire family. The time you spend pumping on top of the time you spend feeding them is time that could be given to Addison or to Justin, or even to the twins themselves. I really appreciated that advice. So by the end of the 2 months I said - either we do this or we go to formula. No more pumping. I was very pleased that the boys finally caught on and I was able to nurse them solely til 6 months. I had to keep a sense of humor. Many times I needed to feed them both at once. Tricky to say the least. I will always smile as I remember nursing them together and how they would actually hold hands. At 6mos, they became quite distracted and it was hard to nurse the two of them during our busy days. I went 50/50 - half formula in bottles, half nursing. That worked well for us up to 1 yr old.
I explain all of that only to say that now I look back and am somewhat amazed that we came this far. I will miss it. The boys have had a harder time letting go than Addison did. Although I did nurse them together in the early months, as they got older and nursed less - I made this time my "alone" time with them. It's been the time where they get to be with just me and I get to be with just them. That doesn't happen very often and I think both sides cherished it. I still make bedtime a special one on one time. I've learned that letting go of some things only means beginning new traditions. It's ok.
I have a lot of friends and family having babies right now. Some for the first time, others the second and third times. If there is anything I have personally learned, it is to do whatever feels right for you and your family. Go with your gut. There was a time when I worried about what all the books said. "Don't nurse before bed and create bad habits." "Push them to go at least so many hours before nursing again." "Don't supplement with formula." A time when I cared about what others thought about our routines. I couldn't care less these days. In our house we always sought to find a middle ground. I didn't want to be a human pacifier, but I did want to meet my children's needs. I LOVED every second I spent nursing my children. Be it 2pm or 2am. In fact, even though I despised the lack of sleep, I think some of my favorite moments with my newborn babies were spent in the quiet of the middle of the night or early morning. Just us. Nursing. Cuddling and half dreaming. You don't get that back. It is a beautiful, normal, needed thing and should be cherished.
My funbags have had a good run ;))
I never really thought it would be harder for me, than for the baby. In some ways it was! I remember half dreading, half looking forward to weaning Addison. I was pretty much ready to have my body entirely back to me and some of the freedoms that came along with being done breastfeeding. For instance, being able to take cold medicine when I had a cold :). However, as a mom - there is for sure that indescribable bond that forms when you nurse your baby and letting go of that is sometimes difficult. Perhaps it is coming to terms with the fact that your "baby" is becoming more of a "toddler". Or perhaps it is knowing that you won't be able to ever soothe them in quite the same way that you could when you nursed them. I'll always cherish the precious calm that overcame each one of my children as they nursed. There is nothing like witnessing your baby go limp with relaxation and watching how warm, secure, content and satisfied they are at that time.
I kind of tricked myself into being done nursing Addison. It was time and she was just over 1 yr and losing interest and I was ready to be done as well. We were down to only one feeding right before bed. One night she didn't seem to want to and so I put her to bed without nursing her and never looked back. I spared myself that feeling of "this is the last time I'll ever nurse her....etc". I told myself, you will nurse your other babies so don't feel down about being finished with the first one.
It's been an interesting ride with the twins. I wanted to be able to nurse them. I figured they would arrive premature and wanted to give them the benefits of breastmilk. I wanted to bond with them in the same way I had with my first child and not be forced into a different arrangement simply because they had arrived at the same time. While feeling all of this, I also forced myself to be open minded and realize that this was, in fact, a different situation and I might not be able to meet my expectations.
They were born about a month early and they didn't latch on well. I pumped milk for the first two months and gave it to them in bottles while trying to work with them on that. Picture pumping enough to feed TWO newborns who fed every 1 1/2 - 2hrs round the clock. I was a crazy person. I remember talking to a friend (also a mother of twins) who told me that you give everything to your children. It's OK to take your boobs back! Sometimes you have to look to what benefits your entire family. The time you spend pumping on top of the time you spend feeding them is time that could be given to Addison or to Justin, or even to the twins themselves. I really appreciated that advice. So by the end of the 2 months I said - either we do this or we go to formula. No more pumping. I was very pleased that the boys finally caught on and I was able to nurse them solely til 6 months. I had to keep a sense of humor. Many times I needed to feed them both at once. Tricky to say the least. I will always smile as I remember nursing them together and how they would actually hold hands. At 6mos, they became quite distracted and it was hard to nurse the two of them during our busy days. I went 50/50 - half formula in bottles, half nursing. That worked well for us up to 1 yr old.
I explain all of that only to say that now I look back and am somewhat amazed that we came this far. I will miss it. The boys have had a harder time letting go than Addison did. Although I did nurse them together in the early months, as they got older and nursed less - I made this time my "alone" time with them. It's been the time where they get to be with just me and I get to be with just them. That doesn't happen very often and I think both sides cherished it. I still make bedtime a special one on one time. I've learned that letting go of some things only means beginning new traditions. It's ok.
I have a lot of friends and family having babies right now. Some for the first time, others the second and third times. If there is anything I have personally learned, it is to do whatever feels right for you and your family. Go with your gut. There was a time when I worried about what all the books said. "Don't nurse before bed and create bad habits." "Push them to go at least so many hours before nursing again." "Don't supplement with formula." A time when I cared about what others thought about our routines. I couldn't care less these days. In our house we always sought to find a middle ground. I didn't want to be a human pacifier, but I did want to meet my children's needs. I LOVED every second I spent nursing my children. Be it 2pm or 2am. In fact, even though I despised the lack of sleep, I think some of my favorite moments with my newborn babies were spent in the quiet of the middle of the night or early morning. Just us. Nursing. Cuddling and half dreaming. You don't get that back. It is a beautiful, normal, needed thing and should be cherished.
My funbags have had a good run ;))
Friday, May 18, 2012
Hardest Job in the World
Many refer to it as "the hardest job in the world" and most people upon hearing that description smile and nod, thinking that surely we should give credit to those stay at home mom's who make it their job to raise children. But in the back of our minds I think many people think - how hard would it be to wake up with the kids, stay home with them and just hold them all day and play with them? Drive them where they need to go. Throw in a load of laundry, pick up a few toys? Sounds pretty fun and easy!
I used to have a totally different picture of what staying at home with kids would be like. I imagined myself dressed AND showered, playing with the kids in a nice clean house. My kids were of course well behaved, only giving me a hard time maybe once in a while. Playing in the backyard on nice days. Play dates with friends. Coffee. Free time during nap time.
Um, yea....
I have to laugh as I throw down this glimpse into my reality as a stay at home mom. Don't get me wrong, I am overwhelmed with love for my children and despite the tough aspects, I love being here with them everyday and consider myself very fortunate to be able to do that. There are many others out there in more difficult situations such as single parents, those dealing with children that have handicaps or illnesses, etc. Working moms, who deal with a whole different set of challenges. To those people I give much credit. Admittedly though, there are some days that I want to tackle Justin for his car keys right before he leaves for work and instead take off myself and enjoy like 5 seconds of alone time on my drive to find sanity.
Waking up leisurely with three kids under 3yrs is more like being rudely awakened at 5am after enjoying a nice solid stretch of 2 or 3 hours of sleep that was constantly interrupted by the kicks of one of your children (yea, never letting them in the bed didn't seem to work out quite like I thought....) that for whatever reason had trouble sleeping and found their way into your room. Then it's putting one twin on each hip and convincing Addison that she can, in fact, WALK on her own down the stairs first thing in the morning - even though she would prefer to be carried as well. Then it's changing diapers, trying to appease two one-year olds that would love to wake up for a minute in your lap, but really don't get that option often because there are in fact two of them. Getting Addison settled and then and only then can I begin to think about taking a pee. Of course taking a pee is done with either my 3 yr old right in there talking to me about what cartoon she'd like to watch or what cereal she is in the mood for or it's done with the twins busting through the gate to join me and maybe rifle through the bathroom garbage as I wrap up that pee as fast as I can in sheer horror trying to jump off the toilet to corral them back into a safer place. We hit the ground sprinting. No doubt about it.
Showering with young children in the house is comical. Either they join me in the bathroom getting into everything under the sun and opening and closing the shower curtain on me the entire time (so much for the warm part of the shower). OR, they are roaming somewhere else in the house getting into something or making a mess or helping themselves to snacks. Or they are babies and just plain screaming because I put them in an exersaucer or crib and "left" their sight for 5 minutes. Even if they were peacefully napping, 9 times out of 10 they will wake up as soon as I get my hair wet. It's like a rule. It's so relaxing.
A clean house. Cue the high pitched laughter of an insane person. (I have to say I stole that line from another blog I read because I found it so fitting and it made me laugh so hard). Justin and I are kind of anal about trying to keep a clean house but even we have to let this fly out the window most days. Cleaning highchairs should be on America's Dirtiest Jobs - hands down. Naptime is spent running around as fast as my legs can carry me to retrieve some sort of fleeting order to the house so that the afternoon's tornado will take a little less time to clean after the kids go to bed. Laundry has turned into probably the one thing that haunts me in my dreams (or should I say nightmares). It's never done.
Meals. Well, my kids are fed. It's hit or miss for me...
Addison no longer naps, but getting the twins to go down together is quite an art. I can count on some shenanigans happening downstairs as I take one of them up to lay them down. Once asleep, I've learned which cries I can let go and which ones require me to run in there and snatch one of them up like I am making a prison break while simultaneously praying to God I don't hit that squeaky floorboard and wake the other one up. Fun times.
Playing outside. Great in theory. Fun for the kids at least. Meanwhile back at the ranch there I am, sweating like a pig after working so hard to get everyone out and set up. Then someone has to go to the bathroom or outside is for some reason unknown to me no longer that appealing to the babies. Hauling them all back in is another good workout for sure.
There is no such thing as a quick errand. If we have to go somewhere, it takes about all morning to line it up. Then comes that small window of time where everyone is fed, changed, happy and you run like hell to load the van up and squeal the tires on the way out of the driveway so that you can preserve this rare moment in time. Get to the store, unload all three kids from their carseats one at a time and go about your business, which for a person with multiples is never quick because each and every person will stop you, oogle at the twins and tell you a lengthy story about so and so who they knew, whose cousin's friend's brother had twins. I know they are being genuine. And I appreciate it. But some days... Once home, I unload three children one at a time out of their carseat into the house and deal with everyone being tired and / or hungry at the same time.
Dealing with meltdowns. For the twins it's little fits (though very ear piercing) here and there when they fight over a toy or are tired/not feeling well and want me. For Addison it is power struggles or attention getting tantrums. Now my kids are pretty laid back and well behaved, but there are days that I think if I hear another scream I will hit my head against the wall until I pass out just to make them go away. (is that more socially acceptable than drinking myself into an oblivion??).
Basically, by the end of the day I have had not one solid minute to myself without a child at me needing something or everything. I haven't had a chance to collect my thoughts or even acknowledge that I had thoughts. I realize that I've hardly had any adult interaction. I never thought it would be quite like that. I think that is why I put "Mom" right up there with one of the hardest jobs in the world. I'm sure there are others, but being a stay at home mom is often overlooked. No one is there to witness the battles you face all day everyday. There is no quiet car drive into work. There is no lunch break. There are no bathroom breaks! There is no "going home" from your job. It follows you into your eveninsg and nights, on your vacations, there is no escaping! It is very rewarding and very important, but hardly genuinely acknowledged. Some days all I selfishly want is someone to look me in the eyes and tell me "It's hard. And you are doing a good job."
So to all you great moms out there, from the bottom of my heart I tell you "It's HARD. And you are doing a GREAT job."
I used to have a totally different picture of what staying at home with kids would be like. I imagined myself dressed AND showered, playing with the kids in a nice clean house. My kids were of course well behaved, only giving me a hard time maybe once in a while. Playing in the backyard on nice days. Play dates with friends. Coffee. Free time during nap time.
Um, yea....
I have to laugh as I throw down this glimpse into my reality as a stay at home mom. Don't get me wrong, I am overwhelmed with love for my children and despite the tough aspects, I love being here with them everyday and consider myself very fortunate to be able to do that. There are many others out there in more difficult situations such as single parents, those dealing with children that have handicaps or illnesses, etc. Working moms, who deal with a whole different set of challenges. To those people I give much credit. Admittedly though, there are some days that I want to tackle Justin for his car keys right before he leaves for work and instead take off myself and enjoy like 5 seconds of alone time on my drive to find sanity.
Waking up leisurely with three kids under 3yrs is more like being rudely awakened at 5am after enjoying a nice solid stretch of 2 or 3 hours of sleep that was constantly interrupted by the kicks of one of your children (yea, never letting them in the bed didn't seem to work out quite like I thought....) that for whatever reason had trouble sleeping and found their way into your room. Then it's putting one twin on each hip and convincing Addison that she can, in fact, WALK on her own down the stairs first thing in the morning - even though she would prefer to be carried as well. Then it's changing diapers, trying to appease two one-year olds that would love to wake up for a minute in your lap, but really don't get that option often because there are in fact two of them. Getting Addison settled and then and only then can I begin to think about taking a pee. Of course taking a pee is done with either my 3 yr old right in there talking to me about what cartoon she'd like to watch or what cereal she is in the mood for or it's done with the twins busting through the gate to join me and maybe rifle through the bathroom garbage as I wrap up that pee as fast as I can in sheer horror trying to jump off the toilet to corral them back into a safer place. We hit the ground sprinting. No doubt about it.
Showering with young children in the house is comical. Either they join me in the bathroom getting into everything under the sun and opening and closing the shower curtain on me the entire time (so much for the warm part of the shower). OR, they are roaming somewhere else in the house getting into something or making a mess or helping themselves to snacks. Or they are babies and just plain screaming because I put them in an exersaucer or crib and "left" their sight for 5 minutes. Even if they were peacefully napping, 9 times out of 10 they will wake up as soon as I get my hair wet. It's like a rule. It's so relaxing.
A clean house. Cue the high pitched laughter of an insane person. (I have to say I stole that line from another blog I read because I found it so fitting and it made me laugh so hard). Justin and I are kind of anal about trying to keep a clean house but even we have to let this fly out the window most days. Cleaning highchairs should be on America's Dirtiest Jobs - hands down. Naptime is spent running around as fast as my legs can carry me to retrieve some sort of fleeting order to the house so that the afternoon's tornado will take a little less time to clean after the kids go to bed. Laundry has turned into probably the one thing that haunts me in my dreams (or should I say nightmares). It's never done.
Meals. Well, my kids are fed. It's hit or miss for me...
Addison no longer naps, but getting the twins to go down together is quite an art. I can count on some shenanigans happening downstairs as I take one of them up to lay them down. Once asleep, I've learned which cries I can let go and which ones require me to run in there and snatch one of them up like I am making a prison break while simultaneously praying to God I don't hit that squeaky floorboard and wake the other one up. Fun times.
Playing outside. Great in theory. Fun for the kids at least. Meanwhile back at the ranch there I am, sweating like a pig after working so hard to get everyone out and set up. Then someone has to go to the bathroom or outside is for some reason unknown to me no longer that appealing to the babies. Hauling them all back in is another good workout for sure.
There is no such thing as a quick errand. If we have to go somewhere, it takes about all morning to line it up. Then comes that small window of time where everyone is fed, changed, happy and you run like hell to load the van up and squeal the tires on the way out of the driveway so that you can preserve this rare moment in time. Get to the store, unload all three kids from their carseats one at a time and go about your business, which for a person with multiples is never quick because each and every person will stop you, oogle at the twins and tell you a lengthy story about so and so who they knew, whose cousin's friend's brother had twins. I know they are being genuine. And I appreciate it. But some days... Once home, I unload three children one at a time out of their carseat into the house and deal with everyone being tired and / or hungry at the same time.
Dealing with meltdowns. For the twins it's little fits (though very ear piercing) here and there when they fight over a toy or are tired/not feeling well and want me. For Addison it is power struggles or attention getting tantrums. Now my kids are pretty laid back and well behaved, but there are days that I think if I hear another scream I will hit my head against the wall until I pass out just to make them go away. (is that more socially acceptable than drinking myself into an oblivion??).
Basically, by the end of the day I have had not one solid minute to myself without a child at me needing something or everything. I haven't had a chance to collect my thoughts or even acknowledge that I had thoughts. I realize that I've hardly had any adult interaction. I never thought it would be quite like that. I think that is why I put "Mom" right up there with one of the hardest jobs in the world. I'm sure there are others, but being a stay at home mom is often overlooked. No one is there to witness the battles you face all day everyday. There is no quiet car drive into work. There is no lunch break. There are no bathroom breaks! There is no "going home" from your job. It follows you into your eveninsg and nights, on your vacations, there is no escaping! It is very rewarding and very important, but hardly genuinely acknowledged. Some days all I selfishly want is someone to look me in the eyes and tell me "It's hard. And you are doing a good job."
So to all you great moms out there, from the bottom of my heart I tell you "It's HARD. And you are doing a GREAT job."
Friday, April 6, 2012
The Journey
Dead silence in the OB's office during an ultrasound. Not exactly comforting.
"I knew it", I thought. "Something must be wrong."
I had had a really strange feeling about this pregnancy and was actually very nervous going into my first appointment. Couldn't put my finger on why I felt this way.
"Sooo...", said my OB after a short time of moving the wand across my belly. "What do YOU see?"
I looked at her and then up at the screen, searched around trying to make sense of why she was asking me this? I was thinking, "I see a small fetus and heart beating, isn't that what we were looking for??!"
And then I spotted something else.
A SECOND fetus.
A SECOND heart beating.
A SECOND BABY???!
"T-twins?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yes!" she said. "You are pregnant with twins!"
HOLY. CRAP.
Not sure if I said that one out loud, but I am pretty certain I was thinking it!
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Then the goosebumps. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I had been praying that everything was developing properly with the baby, etc. Each time I went to say, "Lord, please bless this baby" It always came out "please bless these babies". I would kind of laugh and say, "why do I keep saying that?!" and one time I actually said, "well, if there are two babies in there, please bless them both!" and I laughed. To be completely honest, never once did I seriously entertain the thought of having twins in my head. It's almost comical in a way, like God was gently breaking the news to me. My mind didn't grasp it at the time, but clearly He had already made my heart well aware.
The journey began. Picking up the phone to call Justin as I left the appointment. Being told, "yea, ok, whatever - see you when you get home!!!". Calling my mom next, "What?! Noooo, come on - you're just kidding around!". The drive home was a frenzied string of phone calls, trying to convince the world that I was in fact NOT joking!
First trimester. Belly growing exponentially fast. Feeling oh so very sick. Eating nothing but Cheerios. Only thing that sounds good. Second trimester. Feeling pretty good. Eating obscene amounts of protein and calcium. Waking up at least 3 times a night absolutely RAVENOUS. Fumbling around the kitchen during the middle of the night for food to satisfy the growing lives within. Working hard to drink a gallon of water a day. The "big" ultrasound .... both BOYS!!! Amazing joy, unbelief, excitement! Third trimester. Terribly uncomfortable. Can I really get any bigger?
Tiring quickly. Constant movement from the babies. Unable to keep up with my body's demands for fluids. Dehydration. Hospitalization. At least 5-6 nights within one month hooked up to IV's and two heart monitors. No sleep. Laying in the most uncomfortable positions to ensure that the monitors stay on both babies hearts. No way I am compromising these precious lives. Eyes glued to the heart monitor - watching their heart rates like a hawk for entire days and nights. Constant unplugging, wheeling IV's into the bathroom to pee every 2 minutes - soo much fluid, absolutely zero room for it. Re-plugging everything back in. Repositioning the heart monitors. No mixing up the heart monitors with me. Knew those boys by their heartbeats, the way only a mom could. Could find those babies in a flash. Nurses let me do it every time. Labor stopped. Happy to be released home again. Strict bedrest. Delivery can not come fast enough. Waterbottle constantly in hand. Timing contractions each and every day. 36 1/2wk ultrasound. Fluid is low for Baby A, time to deliver. Never been so happy to be going into labor!
Induction. Relatively quick labor. Time for the babies to come. Being rushed to the OR for delivery as precaution. Mass chaos. Sooo many people in the room. Sooo uncomfortable, need to push NOW! Keep asking to. Keep being told to hang on a little bit longer. Then the green light. Lucas is born. Incredible joy. No time to focus, one more to go! Enduring painful techniques to get Baby B in position. 5 doctors and nurses maneuvering my belly. Their feet are leaving the ground they are pushing him so hard. Can I take much more? Staring at the ceiling through tearful eyes. Gritting and bearing. And then .... another cry. Evan is born. JOY. RELIEF! I remember them wheeling me back to my room and me saying "I'm just so happy they are out!". Man, being a mom is not for the weary. :) There is nothing like new life. What a miracle.
Back home 2 days later. Nights where Justin and I averaged about 45 minutes of sleep for the entire night. Sweet boys. Darling babies. Then colic. Remember Justin referring to our mental states of mind as "we are ready to "off" ourselves" haha. (glad I can laugh about that now). Then came the budding personalities. The joyful, confident, intelligent, loving and cuddly babies that Lucas and Evan are. How much they add to our lives. How did we get to be so blessed?
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The boys will be one year old next month. This year has zipped right on by. It has been an amazing year. Wonderfully happy, yet wonderfully hard and challenging at the same time. These two boys add so much to our family. God has brought us all so far. There is a quote,
"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
-Elizabeth Stone
I couldn't agree more.
Evan and Lucas, I hope to show you each and every day how much you are truly cherished. I love you.
"I knew it", I thought. "Something must be wrong."
I had had a really strange feeling about this pregnancy and was actually very nervous going into my first appointment. Couldn't put my finger on why I felt this way.
"Sooo...", said my OB after a short time of moving the wand across my belly. "What do YOU see?"
I looked at her and then up at the screen, searched around trying to make sense of why she was asking me this? I was thinking, "I see a small fetus and heart beating, isn't that what we were looking for??!"
And then I spotted something else.
A SECOND fetus.
A SECOND heart beating.
A SECOND BABY???!
"T-twins?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yes!" she said. "You are pregnant with twins!"
HOLY. CRAP.
Not sure if I said that one out loud, but I am pretty certain I was thinking it!
.jpg)
Then the goosebumps. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I had been praying that everything was developing properly with the baby, etc. Each time I went to say, "Lord, please bless this baby" It always came out "please bless these babies". I would kind of laugh and say, "why do I keep saying that?!" and one time I actually said, "well, if there are two babies in there, please bless them both!" and I laughed. To be completely honest, never once did I seriously entertain the thought of having twins in my head. It's almost comical in a way, like God was gently breaking the news to me. My mind didn't grasp it at the time, but clearly He had already made my heart well aware.
The journey began. Picking up the phone to call Justin as I left the appointment. Being told, "yea, ok, whatever - see you when you get home!!!". Calling my mom next, "What?! Noooo, come on - you're just kidding around!". The drive home was a frenzied string of phone calls, trying to convince the world that I was in fact NOT joking!
First trimester. Belly growing exponentially fast. Feeling oh so very sick. Eating nothing but Cheerios. Only thing that sounds good. Second trimester. Feeling pretty good. Eating obscene amounts of protein and calcium. Waking up at least 3 times a night absolutely RAVENOUS. Fumbling around the kitchen during the middle of the night for food to satisfy the growing lives within. Working hard to drink a gallon of water a day. The "big" ultrasound .... both BOYS!!! Amazing joy, unbelief, excitement! Third trimester. Terribly uncomfortable. Can I really get any bigger?
Tiring quickly. Constant movement from the babies. Unable to keep up with my body's demands for fluids. Dehydration. Hospitalization. At least 5-6 nights within one month hooked up to IV's and two heart monitors. No sleep. Laying in the most uncomfortable positions to ensure that the monitors stay on both babies hearts. No way I am compromising these precious lives. Eyes glued to the heart monitor - watching their heart rates like a hawk for entire days and nights. Constant unplugging, wheeling IV's into the bathroom to pee every 2 minutes - soo much fluid, absolutely zero room for it. Re-plugging everything back in. Repositioning the heart monitors. No mixing up the heart monitors with me. Knew those boys by their heartbeats, the way only a mom could. Could find those babies in a flash. Nurses let me do it every time. Labor stopped. Happy to be released home again. Strict bedrest. Delivery can not come fast enough. Waterbottle constantly in hand. Timing contractions each and every day. 36 1/2wk ultrasound. Fluid is low for Baby A, time to deliver. Never been so happy to be going into labor!
Induction. Relatively quick labor. Time for the babies to come. Being rushed to the OR for delivery as precaution. Mass chaos. Sooo many people in the room. Sooo uncomfortable, need to push NOW! Keep asking to. Keep being told to hang on a little bit longer. Then the green light. Lucas is born. Incredible joy. No time to focus, one more to go! Enduring painful techniques to get Baby B in position. 5 doctors and nurses maneuvering my belly. Their feet are leaving the ground they are pushing him so hard. Can I take much more? Staring at the ceiling through tearful eyes. Gritting and bearing. And then .... another cry. Evan is born. JOY. RELIEF! I remember them wheeling me back to my room and me saying "I'm just so happy they are out!". Man, being a mom is not for the weary. :) There is nothing like new life. What a miracle.
Back home 2 days later. Nights where Justin and I averaged about 45 minutes of sleep for the entire night. Sweet boys. Darling babies. Then colic. Remember Justin referring to our mental states of mind as "we are ready to "off" ourselves" haha. (glad I can laugh about that now). Then came the budding personalities. The joyful, confident, intelligent, loving and cuddly babies that Lucas and Evan are. How much they add to our lives. How did we get to be so blessed?
.jpg)
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The boys will be one year old next month. This year has zipped right on by. It has been an amazing year. Wonderfully happy, yet wonderfully hard and challenging at the same time. These two boys add so much to our family. God has brought us all so far. There is a quote,
"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
-Elizabeth Stone
I couldn't agree more.
Evan and Lucas, I hope to show you each and every day how much you are truly cherished. I love you.
Monday, March 19, 2012
The house that built me
I remember being a young kid and hearing a knock at the front door. There stood this elderly woman that we did not know. She asked if she could come inside and look around the house, said this was the home she grew up in. I remember my parents letting her in and us kids watching her as she walked around our old farmhouse, her mind clearly filling with old memories as she peered in each and every room. I remember thinking that I wondered what that must feel like, to come back there after all those years.
The other day I drove through my hometown with my daughter on our way to a playdate. I decided to drive her past my old house. It is truly amazing the feelings that return when you see your old house, driveway, porch and yard. Despite the unfamiliar cars in the driveway and strange furniture that you can see through the windows, it still feels as if you can drive up, park your car, hop out and waltz right through the backdoor to see your mom in the kitchen, your dad in the living room and the loud bustle of 5 active kids doing their thing. Home. Even after all these years of being away, it's still home.
People say it is not the four walls of a house that create the memories, but rather the love of the people inside them to make it a home. Of course I believe that to be true, but I would also argue that those four walls contain value and memory. If I walked through our old house, I imagine the wooden floors would speak to me of hosting us kids and our sliding contests in our slippery socks to blaring Christmas music, the large old floor vents would offer up the warm memory of us girls fluffing up our nightgowns as we stood over them on those chilly winter nights and mornings. The upstairs bathroom would remember four girls getting ready each morning, fighting for warm shower water and mirror time! The screened in porch would reminisce about the giggles of my younger brother and sister during their sleepovers outside on warm summer nights. The "middle yard" as we called it, would speak of kind neighbors who more or less allowed us to share that portion of their yard as our own for kickball, tag, red rover and an ice rink for our "ice shows" in the winter time. The big old tree out front that we loved to climb on as we waited for the school bus, but weren't technically allowed to because it was too close to the busy road. Gosh, as I sit here and think about it, there is not a square inch of that house or yard that does not contain a memory. Memories that wrote the story of my childhood. The happy memories and the sad memories. I remember sitting on the floor with my sisters near the edge of our bedroom and my mom brushing our hair after a bath as we learned of her mother's passing. The ups and downs of life. Memories. Home.
I think Miranda Lambert sums up the feelings that my siblings and I have for 245 Mason in her song "The House that Built me". None of us can hear that song, without thinking of our childhood home. In the end, it was the unconditional love of our family that made that place so special. The unconditional love that we all still hold for eachother and is always understood - even through the most difficult of times.
I love the memories that my childhood home contains. If those walls could speak.....! In a strange way, I think they miss us just as much as we miss them. :)
The other day I drove through my hometown with my daughter on our way to a playdate. I decided to drive her past my old house. It is truly amazing the feelings that return when you see your old house, driveway, porch and yard. Despite the unfamiliar cars in the driveway and strange furniture that you can see through the windows, it still feels as if you can drive up, park your car, hop out and waltz right through the backdoor to see your mom in the kitchen, your dad in the living room and the loud bustle of 5 active kids doing their thing. Home. Even after all these years of being away, it's still home.
People say it is not the four walls of a house that create the memories, but rather the love of the people inside them to make it a home. Of course I believe that to be true, but I would also argue that those four walls contain value and memory. If I walked through our old house, I imagine the wooden floors would speak to me of hosting us kids and our sliding contests in our slippery socks to blaring Christmas music, the large old floor vents would offer up the warm memory of us girls fluffing up our nightgowns as we stood over them on those chilly winter nights and mornings. The upstairs bathroom would remember four girls getting ready each morning, fighting for warm shower water and mirror time! The screened in porch would reminisce about the giggles of my younger brother and sister during their sleepovers outside on warm summer nights. The "middle yard" as we called it, would speak of kind neighbors who more or less allowed us to share that portion of their yard as our own for kickball, tag, red rover and an ice rink for our "ice shows" in the winter time. The big old tree out front that we loved to climb on as we waited for the school bus, but weren't technically allowed to because it was too close to the busy road. Gosh, as I sit here and think about it, there is not a square inch of that house or yard that does not contain a memory. Memories that wrote the story of my childhood. The happy memories and the sad memories. I remember sitting on the floor with my sisters near the edge of our bedroom and my mom brushing our hair after a bath as we learned of her mother's passing. The ups and downs of life. Memories. Home.
I think Miranda Lambert sums up the feelings that my siblings and I have for 245 Mason in her song "The House that Built me". None of us can hear that song, without thinking of our childhood home. In the end, it was the unconditional love of our family that made that place so special. The unconditional love that we all still hold for eachother and is always understood - even through the most difficult of times.
I love the memories that my childhood home contains. If those walls could speak.....! In a strange way, I think they miss us just as much as we miss them. :)
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Lukewarm
There are days when going back to work seems like a wonderful, relaxing vacation I would like to be on! Yesterday was one of those days. I should have known I was set up for disaster as I shook the creamer for my morning coffee and realized that someone had not securely closed the cap after they used it last. Creamer sprayed all over me, the counter and the floor. Awesome. These are the days where every task seems just a bit overwhelming to me. Not sure why. The normally laid back twins are instead crawling up my legs to be held, chucking the toys they are playing with because they are tired of them and screaming bloody murder whenever I go out of their sight. Days where Addison wanders the house with a look of total boredom. Yeah, it's February in Michigan and we are in a rut!!
This winter hasn't been long and neither has it been very cold. Yet still, this time of year I find myself longing for something. A vacation would be nice. Some place warm and sunny. The last vacation we took was up to my parent's place in Traverse City for the 4th of July. I left early in the week with the kids and Justin met me up there for the long holiday weekend. The twins were only a few months old at the time. Most of you know the story, on the drive up the babies had woken up and were screaming to be fed. Addison was getting restless listening to all the racket and kept asking me, "Mom, can you let me outta here?". Then I saw police lights in my rear view mirror.....wonderful. Thankfully, the officer simply flashed me a sympathetic smile and sent me on my way, probably thinking that he'd be speeding if that were the situation in his minivan too! As soon as we got up north, I immediately came down with the worst head cold known to man. Totally wiped me out and yet I still needed to be up all night nursing the twins, etc thinking, "I need a vacation from this vacation!". Thankfully, my mom was there to help and we ended up having a nice visit in spite of all that.
I think we all need a change of pace every now and then. I remember my first year out of college. I thought it was such a weird feeling to not have that semester change of classes or that summer break switch over to full time work. No change of pace! Since then, I find I often put my life on "autopilot" and then some time later, wonder why I am getting restless. I have become lukewarm.
As usual, God says it best:
Matthew 5:13-16
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."
As long as you are still here on earth, God has a reason for you to be here. Remind yourself of that! I used to love reading the quote at the bottom of my old co worker's email signature. It read, "Above all, be kind. For you never know what someone else is going through". So true. We affect other people's lives everyday and we often are not even aware of it. We were made to be reflections of God. Those pieces of me that reflect Him are those that I cherish the most. They need to be nurtured and fed and put out there for the world to see. They need to be used to glorify God. When I become lukewarm, I am not doing God justice for the life He has given me. I am not doing my family justice. I am not doing myself justice. The joy in the everyday somehow vanishes.
Sure, vacations help my mood for the moment. However, it is my life that I always return to. So perhaps this dreary time of year is a good time to assess where I have become lukewarm in my journey. Time to shine. I don't know about you, but I'd like to give some glory back to the God who has blessed me with so very much.
This winter hasn't been long and neither has it been very cold. Yet still, this time of year I find myself longing for something. A vacation would be nice. Some place warm and sunny. The last vacation we took was up to my parent's place in Traverse City for the 4th of July. I left early in the week with the kids and Justin met me up there for the long holiday weekend. The twins were only a few months old at the time. Most of you know the story, on the drive up the babies had woken up and were screaming to be fed. Addison was getting restless listening to all the racket and kept asking me, "Mom, can you let me outta here?". Then I saw police lights in my rear view mirror.....wonderful. Thankfully, the officer simply flashed me a sympathetic smile and sent me on my way, probably thinking that he'd be speeding if that were the situation in his minivan too! As soon as we got up north, I immediately came down with the worst head cold known to man. Totally wiped me out and yet I still needed to be up all night nursing the twins, etc thinking, "I need a vacation from this vacation!". Thankfully, my mom was there to help and we ended up having a nice visit in spite of all that.
I think we all need a change of pace every now and then. I remember my first year out of college. I thought it was such a weird feeling to not have that semester change of classes or that summer break switch over to full time work. No change of pace! Since then, I find I often put my life on "autopilot" and then some time later, wonder why I am getting restless. I have become lukewarm.
As usual, God says it best:
Matthew 5:13-16
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."
As long as you are still here on earth, God has a reason for you to be here. Remind yourself of that! I used to love reading the quote at the bottom of my old co worker's email signature. It read, "Above all, be kind. For you never know what someone else is going through". So true. We affect other people's lives everyday and we often are not even aware of it. We were made to be reflections of God. Those pieces of me that reflect Him are those that I cherish the most. They need to be nurtured and fed and put out there for the world to see. They need to be used to glorify God. When I become lukewarm, I am not doing God justice for the life He has given me. I am not doing my family justice. I am not doing myself justice. The joy in the everyday somehow vanishes.
Sure, vacations help my mood for the moment. However, it is my life that I always return to. So perhaps this dreary time of year is a good time to assess where I have become lukewarm in my journey. Time to shine. I don't know about you, but I'd like to give some glory back to the God who has blessed me with so very much.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Age
I'll be watching a movie and thinking to myself that this actor or actress must be close to my age. And then I read somewhere that they are like 23 years old. Ouch!
So I have a hard time believing that I am (ahem) ......30....... years old.
Sure, I realize that in the large scheme of things, 30 is not old at all. However, I personally have to admit that 30 is probably one of the last numbers I 'feel' like turning .... not meaning the last year I'd like to live of course, but let's face it - 30 is when you are officially separated from the young "twenty something" crowd and instead paired up with the "young family" crowd. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but a mental adjustment for sure.
I remember that I used to refer to people as "early 30's" when I didn't know their age and they looked older than me. Then came the day I said that and realized that I, myself was now grouped into that category. I better up my phrase to "mid-late 30's"! I truly don't think about it much, but there are those times I feel like I am in an episode of this old sitcom that used to air (I can't even remember the name anymore). The intro was this minivan pulling into a beach parking lot and as these young parents were unloading floaty after floaty, strollers, coolers, umbrellas, kids, etc. They looked totally exhausted, sleep deprived and sweaty and then this convertible pulled up next to them. Four young people hopped out with nothing but their surfboards and sunglasses and took off to the water! They stopped unloading for a minute and just stared at them longingly.....yea, I think I have officially been there!
Driving a minivan is something of a turning point in your life, right? I've heard friends say,
"Maybe people will just think I am the hot nanny!?"
Not even that, I just hate the work it takes to load and unload everyone and their things for simple trips. Or when you pull up next to a car filled with young kids and you feel like a total mom. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but not exactly how I picture myself all the time!
I must admit that I often mistake college kids for high school kids and then think, college age? No, they couldn't be....could they? Or when I see all of those skinny jeans out there and come to terms with the fact that most of my jeans are still boot cut .... the haunting thought enters my mind .... are boot cut jeans like the new "mom jeans"?!?!?! I don't think so, and I sincerely hope not! But what if they are!? hahaha
To be honest, I don't think I could keep up with the twenty something crowd anymore. Nor does nightlife really interest me much these days. I like to try and get in bed by 10pm for sure - earlier if I can! Not that I am promised to actually SLEEP, given the kids. But that is when I at least like to start trying :) Of course a night out here and there is divine. But so is getting comfy on the couch and watching an episode of MadMen. :) (I am totally painting a picture of my dork life now, aren't I?)
In the end, I can even see large differences in myself from being in my twenties until now. Age brings more wisdom and confidence and so many other wonderful things, despite the occasional wrinkle. And building a family and enjoying this stage can actually be quite fulfilling.
So I guess you just try to follow that Tim McGraw song, right?
Something like,
"I think I'll take a moment, celebrate my age. The ending of an era and the turning of a page. Now it's time to focus in on where I go from here. Lord, have mercy on my next 30 (+) years!"
So I have a hard time believing that I am (ahem) ......30....... years old.
Sure, I realize that in the large scheme of things, 30 is not old at all. However, I personally have to admit that 30 is probably one of the last numbers I 'feel' like turning .... not meaning the last year I'd like to live of course, but let's face it - 30 is when you are officially separated from the young "twenty something" crowd and instead paired up with the "young family" crowd. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but a mental adjustment for sure.
I remember that I used to refer to people as "early 30's" when I didn't know their age and they looked older than me. Then came the day I said that and realized that I, myself was now grouped into that category. I better up my phrase to "mid-late 30's"! I truly don't think about it much, but there are those times I feel like I am in an episode of this old sitcom that used to air (I can't even remember the name anymore). The intro was this minivan pulling into a beach parking lot and as these young parents were unloading floaty after floaty, strollers, coolers, umbrellas, kids, etc. They looked totally exhausted, sleep deprived and sweaty and then this convertible pulled up next to them. Four young people hopped out with nothing but their surfboards and sunglasses and took off to the water! They stopped unloading for a minute and just stared at them longingly.....yea, I think I have officially been there!
Driving a minivan is something of a turning point in your life, right? I've heard friends say,
"Maybe people will just think I am the hot nanny!?"
Not even that, I just hate the work it takes to load and unload everyone and their things for simple trips. Or when you pull up next to a car filled with young kids and you feel like a total mom. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but not exactly how I picture myself all the time!
I must admit that I often mistake college kids for high school kids and then think, college age? No, they couldn't be....could they? Or when I see all of those skinny jeans out there and come to terms with the fact that most of my jeans are still boot cut .... the haunting thought enters my mind .... are boot cut jeans like the new "mom jeans"?!?!?! I don't think so, and I sincerely hope not! But what if they are!? hahaha
To be honest, I don't think I could keep up with the twenty something crowd anymore. Nor does nightlife really interest me much these days. I like to try and get in bed by 10pm for sure - earlier if I can! Not that I am promised to actually SLEEP, given the kids. But that is when I at least like to start trying :) Of course a night out here and there is divine. But so is getting comfy on the couch and watching an episode of MadMen. :) (I am totally painting a picture of my dork life now, aren't I?)
In the end, I can even see large differences in myself from being in my twenties until now. Age brings more wisdom and confidence and so many other wonderful things, despite the occasional wrinkle. And building a family and enjoying this stage can actually be quite fulfilling.
So I guess you just try to follow that Tim McGraw song, right?
Something like,
"I think I'll take a moment, celebrate my age. The ending of an era and the turning of a page. Now it's time to focus in on where I go from here. Lord, have mercy on my next 30 (+) years!"
Monday, February 20, 2012
Heartstrings
"Did you have sweet dreams?", I asked Addison when she woke up from her nap a few weeks ago.
"Uh huh" she answered.
"What did you dream about?"
"You"
Talk about tugging at those heartstrings! I think most moms agree that these are the little moments we live for. When a compliment comes from a little one, it is on such a deeper level because they are nothing but honest.
For as many crazy funny things as Addison can say, she sure does come up with some amazingly sweet words.
I'll know I'll never ever forget two of these comments (although I hope to never forget any of them). They were both simple words, but they meant so much to me at the times they were spoken. One of them came the day I found out we were expecting twins. Talk about shocker! Sooo many things racing through my mind and at the top of that list was worrying about Addison and whether or not she would feel left out, or if I'd have enough time for her once they arrived. I wasn't voicing any of this, but instead I was sitting on the couch watching Addison play. Out of the blue, she walked over, made direct eye contact with me and said,
"I'm ok, Mom"
She's always been very vocal for her age, but I thought here is this little girl just shy of 2yrs old and out of everyone I had spoken with that day, she was the only one who had made me feel a little more at ease about the situation. God sure does know what we need to hear, when we need to hear it and who we need to hear it from, doesn't He?
The other comment I'll never forget was once the twins had arrived and were 6 weeks old. They were both colicky and being home alone with them and Addison during the day while Justin was at work was really, really hard in the beginning. I was having such a hard day pleasing the babies and finally just broke down into tears. Addison walked over to me and said,
"Don't give up, Mom!"
I know it sounds silly, but that simple comment meant so much to me. It helped me pull it back together and keep on trucking for the sake of this patient, little girl who had every right to cry herself from being put (for lack of a better phrase) "on the backburner" since the twins required just about everything I had to give back then.
I was thinking about this last night when Lucas was having trouble sleeping. His nose was stuffy and his tearduct clogged. I pulled him into our bed to see if I could get him to fall into a deeper sleep and then try plopping him back in his crib. Addison must have heard me because pretty soon I see her blankie flip up over the top of my bed, her little arms following. She hauled herself right up there with us. Normally, she would probably wedge her way in between the baby and I, saying that the baby was ok over there and that she needed to be next to me. Tonight however, when I told her that "Lukey wasn't feeling well" and she gingerly laid down next to him, sweetly kissed his head and then picked up his tiny hand and held it for a while. Then I felt her small hand rubbing my arm and then her tiny voice say,
"You're a good mom"
I looked over and saw her little smile and I tell you what, after a long and tiring day - that was I all needed to hear. What a blessing she is to me.
"Uh huh" she answered.
"What did you dream about?"
"You"
Talk about tugging at those heartstrings! I think most moms agree that these are the little moments we live for. When a compliment comes from a little one, it is on such a deeper level because they are nothing but honest.
For as many crazy funny things as Addison can say, she sure does come up with some amazingly sweet words.
I'll know I'll never ever forget two of these comments (although I hope to never forget any of them). They were both simple words, but they meant so much to me at the times they were spoken. One of them came the day I found out we were expecting twins. Talk about shocker! Sooo many things racing through my mind and at the top of that list was worrying about Addison and whether or not she would feel left out, or if I'd have enough time for her once they arrived. I wasn't voicing any of this, but instead I was sitting on the couch watching Addison play. Out of the blue, she walked over, made direct eye contact with me and said,
"I'm ok, Mom"
She's always been very vocal for her age, but I thought here is this little girl just shy of 2yrs old and out of everyone I had spoken with that day, she was the only one who had made me feel a little more at ease about the situation. God sure does know what we need to hear, when we need to hear it and who we need to hear it from, doesn't He?
The other comment I'll never forget was once the twins had arrived and were 6 weeks old. They were both colicky and being home alone with them and Addison during the day while Justin was at work was really, really hard in the beginning. I was having such a hard day pleasing the babies and finally just broke down into tears. Addison walked over to me and said,
"Don't give up, Mom!"
I know it sounds silly, but that simple comment meant so much to me. It helped me pull it back together and keep on trucking for the sake of this patient, little girl who had every right to cry herself from being put (for lack of a better phrase) "on the backburner" since the twins required just about everything I had to give back then.
I was thinking about this last night when Lucas was having trouble sleeping. His nose was stuffy and his tearduct clogged. I pulled him into our bed to see if I could get him to fall into a deeper sleep and then try plopping him back in his crib. Addison must have heard me because pretty soon I see her blankie flip up over the top of my bed, her little arms following. She hauled herself right up there with us. Normally, she would probably wedge her way in between the baby and I, saying that the baby was ok over there and that she needed to be next to me. Tonight however, when I told her that "Lukey wasn't feeling well" and she gingerly laid down next to him, sweetly kissed his head and then picked up his tiny hand and held it for a while. Then I felt her small hand rubbing my arm and then her tiny voice say,
"You're a good mom"
I looked over and saw her little smile and I tell you what, after a long and tiring day - that was I all needed to hear. What a blessing she is to me.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Seriously?
"Seriously?"
This is a word I tend to mutter very frequently these days. Sometimes in a good way....such as when I drive home from an outing, all three kids fall asleep in the back and by the grace of God I am able to transfer each of them inside and into their beds without too much trouble. Or at times like today, when I realized I was actually able to write three blogs this week - seriously?!
However, on other occasions it isn't shall we say quite as 'positive'.....
Take earlier this week, for example. It had been a crazy day, the house was a disaster, Justin called to say he was working late and I was feeding the twins dinner. They were not pleased with my choice of entree. The food was being dribbled out of their mouths, spit out of their mouths - more or less anything so as to avoid swallowing it. As this was going on, Addison was sitting behind me at the table snacking on a bowl of cereal. I had put it in one of those suction cup bowls. Which by the way, I consider to cause more harm than good for the simple fact that Addison is intrigued by the suction cup feature and proceeds to stick it to the table, then pull it back off, stick it down, pull it off.....etc. Well, this was precisely what she was up to when all of a sudden the suction releases, the ENTIRE bowl of cereal and milk shoot straight into Lucas's face and all down his body, highchair and eventually all over the floor. The look of shock on all three children was priceless and we had a really hard laugh about that one, even the babies. But as I thought about the clean up job, I was thinking ...
"Tonight of all nights. Seriously?!"
This also tends to be my response as all too often I begin nursing one baby, the other one instantly wakes up crying and then Addison chooses that precise moment to need help in the bathroom. "Seriously?!"
Nap time is also pretty comical in our household. I take one baby up to get him settled down, then the other. Without fail, Addison will have some sort of "major crisis" going on downstairs the minute the baby begins to drift off. She screams bloody murder for me to come down (even though I have asked her countless times to just come up quietly and get me...). When I rush down to see what it is, more often than not something equivalent to "My sticker ripped".
"Seriously?!"
Also love the times I spend 24 hrs it seems, getting everyone ready to go out the door and right as I load the boys into their carseats, they both decide it's a good time to poop.
"Seriously?!"
Or the one day I took them all to the park, only to find I had left the double stroller in the garage.
"Seriously?!"
I have to say that even though sometimes I lose it, I try hard to take a deep breath and find humor in these moments. Because I know that all too soon there will come a day when I look back on all of this and say,
"This part of my life is really over? Seriously?"
This is a word I tend to mutter very frequently these days. Sometimes in a good way....such as when I drive home from an outing, all three kids fall asleep in the back and by the grace of God I am able to transfer each of them inside and into their beds without too much trouble. Or at times like today, when I realized I was actually able to write three blogs this week - seriously?!
However, on other occasions it isn't shall we say quite as 'positive'.....
Take earlier this week, for example. It had been a crazy day, the house was a disaster, Justin called to say he was working late and I was feeding the twins dinner. They were not pleased with my choice of entree. The food was being dribbled out of their mouths, spit out of their mouths - more or less anything so as to avoid swallowing it. As this was going on, Addison was sitting behind me at the table snacking on a bowl of cereal. I had put it in one of those suction cup bowls. Which by the way, I consider to cause more harm than good for the simple fact that Addison is intrigued by the suction cup feature and proceeds to stick it to the table, then pull it back off, stick it down, pull it off.....etc. Well, this was precisely what she was up to when all of a sudden the suction releases, the ENTIRE bowl of cereal and milk shoot straight into Lucas's face and all down his body, highchair and eventually all over the floor. The look of shock on all three children was priceless and we had a really hard laugh about that one, even the babies. But as I thought about the clean up job, I was thinking ...
"Tonight of all nights. Seriously?!"
This also tends to be my response as all too often I begin nursing one baby, the other one instantly wakes up crying and then Addison chooses that precise moment to need help in the bathroom. "Seriously?!"
Nap time is also pretty comical in our household. I take one baby up to get him settled down, then the other. Without fail, Addison will have some sort of "major crisis" going on downstairs the minute the baby begins to drift off. She screams bloody murder for me to come down (even though I have asked her countless times to just come up quietly and get me...). When I rush down to see what it is, more often than not something equivalent to "My sticker ripped".
"Seriously?!"
Also love the times I spend 24 hrs it seems, getting everyone ready to go out the door and right as I load the boys into their carseats, they both decide it's a good time to poop.
"Seriously?!"
Or the one day I took them all to the park, only to find I had left the double stroller in the garage.
"Seriously?!"
I have to say that even though sometimes I lose it, I try hard to take a deep breath and find humor in these moments. Because I know that all too soon there will come a day when I look back on all of this and say,
"This part of my life is really over? Seriously?"
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Slack and Hot Tamales
So I was driving to my exercise class, popping hot tamales into my mouth (lovely combination, I know) and thinking about being a parent. I get to exercise two nights a week right now and these nights are my little escapes. My favorite part is actually walking out of the class and into the cool night air. Everything seems quiet and I feel like for the first time that day, I can hear myself think.
My thoughts mostly center around parenting, since that is now my full time job. It is something I want to be great at. I feel like it's one of my main purposes here - to help shape these sweet little creatures that God has blessed me with into wonderful human beings. And with my first baby, I felt as if I was heading down the right path. I could give her all of me whenever I wanted. I did work part time, but was otherwise home and able to cater to her every need, learn who she was inside and out, read her bazillions of books, play on the floor with her as much as I wanted, rock her until she was out cold and hold her a little bit longer "just cause", document every sound, gesture she made, comfort her every time she cried. You get the picture.
Then the twins came along.
As any other mom with more than one child will say "It's so different with the second one". Since number two and number three showed up 5 minutes apart for me, my only experience is to have this feeling somewhat magnified, although I have admittedly not had it any other way. Immediate guilt. Immediate questioning of my ability to parent them as well as I thought I had parented her. I can't hold them enough, I can't rock them as much as I want to, I don't have as much time to watch them, get to know them, comfort them. Nor do I have much time for my first child anymore. Torture. Guilt. Constantly thinking "I thought I'd be good at this, why do I feel so inferior?" My mom probably remembers my phone call one afternoon when the twins were still only about a month old. I more or less sobbed and told her that this was not the kind of mom I had wanted to be. I didn't have enough time for anyone it felt, being home alone with all three. This began my journey in learning how to cut myself some slack.
By slack I don't mean 'neglect' or 'half the effort', I simply mean when you've given something your best and still somehow feel subpar - cut yoursef some slack! For me, a big part of this is just plain being honest with myself and others. I think everyone tends to paint a slightly prettier picture of thier lives than what may really be the case. Then we feel like we need to live up to this fake standard we have somehow set. Just look at the stereotypical American question and surfacy answer "How are you?" "Good! How are you?". "Good!"
Really? Are we always "good"? I'm not. My 3 yr old was the one that didn't feel like sharing her favorite toys at a play date the other day. Bummed me out. Partly because we spend so much time teaching her to share and partly because I have seen her share willingly on other occasions. But then it occurred to me...isn't this sort of the definition of being a 3 yr old? Does it really mean I have done something wrong, failed her in some way? My 9 month old boys still wake up at night. Sure, we've had some good stretches, but introduce colds and teething and good sleep is usually hard to come by. Should I feel like I am a bad parent because of all those people who claim their babies slept through the night at 4 weeks old? (by the way....who are these babies that do this, and why didn't I get one?!). Somedays I honestly don't feel like spending the day changing diapers, playing dolls, watching cartoons, cleaning the house. But I know this doesn't mean I care for my kids any less.
It's true, the phrase "Let go and let God". The second I try to control things in my life is the second everything starts slipping out of my grip. I am learning everyday to give things over to God and allow Him to take my hand and lead my instincts and decisions. Life is just so much better that way. I think that is the only way I will ever achieve being a 'great' parent. We are all only human. We error. We can only do so much before we need Him to pick up our slack. And He will, if you ask Him to.
What does this have to do with hot tamales you ask? Well, it's not a great correlation nor clever end to my blog tonight - just something that made me laugh. So I walk into my exercise class and a woman who takes the class with me walks over and says in a hushed voice "So, I parked next to you today. I noticed the hot tamale box in your passenger seat." She pauses. And then says, "I have some in my car too! I am glad I am not the only one who eats them on the way to exercise!!!". So there you go. Let's be honest with each other and cut ourselves some slack, because chances are - we aren't the only ones eating hot tamales on the way to exercise class :)
My thoughts mostly center around parenting, since that is now my full time job. It is something I want to be great at. I feel like it's one of my main purposes here - to help shape these sweet little creatures that God has blessed me with into wonderful human beings. And with my first baby, I felt as if I was heading down the right path. I could give her all of me whenever I wanted. I did work part time, but was otherwise home and able to cater to her every need, learn who she was inside and out, read her bazillions of books, play on the floor with her as much as I wanted, rock her until she was out cold and hold her a little bit longer "just cause", document every sound, gesture she made, comfort her every time she cried. You get the picture.
Then the twins came along.
As any other mom with more than one child will say "It's so different with the second one". Since number two and number three showed up 5 minutes apart for me, my only experience is to have this feeling somewhat magnified, although I have admittedly not had it any other way. Immediate guilt. Immediate questioning of my ability to parent them as well as I thought I had parented her. I can't hold them enough, I can't rock them as much as I want to, I don't have as much time to watch them, get to know them, comfort them. Nor do I have much time for my first child anymore. Torture. Guilt. Constantly thinking "I thought I'd be good at this, why do I feel so inferior?" My mom probably remembers my phone call one afternoon when the twins were still only about a month old. I more or less sobbed and told her that this was not the kind of mom I had wanted to be. I didn't have enough time for anyone it felt, being home alone with all three. This began my journey in learning how to cut myself some slack.
By slack I don't mean 'neglect' or 'half the effort', I simply mean when you've given something your best and still somehow feel subpar - cut yoursef some slack! For me, a big part of this is just plain being honest with myself and others. I think everyone tends to paint a slightly prettier picture of thier lives than what may really be the case. Then we feel like we need to live up to this fake standard we have somehow set. Just look at the stereotypical American question and surfacy answer "How are you?" "Good! How are you?". "Good!"
Really? Are we always "good"? I'm not. My 3 yr old was the one that didn't feel like sharing her favorite toys at a play date the other day. Bummed me out. Partly because we spend so much time teaching her to share and partly because I have seen her share willingly on other occasions. But then it occurred to me...isn't this sort of the definition of being a 3 yr old? Does it really mean I have done something wrong, failed her in some way? My 9 month old boys still wake up at night. Sure, we've had some good stretches, but introduce colds and teething and good sleep is usually hard to come by. Should I feel like I am a bad parent because of all those people who claim their babies slept through the night at 4 weeks old? (by the way....who are these babies that do this, and why didn't I get one?!). Somedays I honestly don't feel like spending the day changing diapers, playing dolls, watching cartoons, cleaning the house. But I know this doesn't mean I care for my kids any less.
It's true, the phrase "Let go and let God". The second I try to control things in my life is the second everything starts slipping out of my grip. I am learning everyday to give things over to God and allow Him to take my hand and lead my instincts and decisions. Life is just so much better that way. I think that is the only way I will ever achieve being a 'great' parent. We are all only human. We error. We can only do so much before we need Him to pick up our slack. And He will, if you ask Him to.
What does this have to do with hot tamales you ask? Well, it's not a great correlation nor clever end to my blog tonight - just something that made me laugh. So I walk into my exercise class and a woman who takes the class with me walks over and says in a hushed voice "So, I parked next to you today. I noticed the hot tamale box in your passenger seat." She pauses. And then says, "I have some in my car too! I am glad I am not the only one who eats them on the way to exercise!!!". So there you go. Let's be honest with each other and cut ourselves some slack, because chances are - we aren't the only ones eating hot tamales on the way to exercise class :)
Monday, February 13, 2012
my blog....
So I have to apologize in advance for the incomplete homepage and lack of profile, but I figure I can mess with that as I go. I have been wanting to blog for quite some time now and even set this page up (well, began to) back in October of 2011! I decided it is time to use it, even if it is not officially finished :) We will see where it goes.
I don't pretend to be a great writer, but hopefully some of you will find humor in my everyday chaos. One of the main reasons for wanting to do this, was to have a creative outlet in which I can process my thoughts, look back on the day (or week, or month) and smile. Ever since we were blessed with twin boys in addition to our beautiful toddler Addison, our life moves at a frightening pace. I literally have to laugh (even when I sometimes want to cry) that as soon as I get all three down for a nap, run around the house picking up the morning mess and even BEGIN to contemplate something such as brushing my teeth (!) - the first child somehow senses this and is back up again ready to hit the ground sprinting! Our days begin at 5am and I am not really sure they ever end! I've decided the key to surviving three children at these young ages is mental surrender. Just don't expect time to do anything and if somehow the stars align and you are able to drink your coffee before it is ice cold - praise God!! So....short story long :), this blog is my means of logging and remembering the great moments and maybe the not so great ones that I can surely someday look back upon and laugh.
Don't get me wrong, my children are my world and they are wonderful. Of course I am completely bias, but in my mind God knew Addison was a girl who could handle having younger twin brothers. Sure we have our "terrible two (or three)" moments, but all in all she has been my biggest cheerleader since they were born and she loves and cares for her brothers passionately. She is also our comic relief and continues to baffle us with her intelligence. She's my blonde haired, blue-eyed angel. Lucas is "twin A" (born first) and Evan "twin B". They have been so different, right from the start. Though their personalities have flip flopped some in their 9 months of development - they remain quite the dynamic duo and they have only just begun! Lucas we currently call our "fat cat" as he enjoys sitting and eating and well, crawling backwards until he crashes into something as he has not yet mastered crawling in the proper direction. He has a laugh and smile that would melt anyone's heart and thunder thighs to prove his love of food. Evan is our little sneaky troublemaker. He has joyous eyes and a killer smile. Spunk that he keeps under wraps, until he is ready to cause mischief. Tall like his Daddy and full of love. I couldn't have dreamt these three up, Justin and I consider ourselves immensely blessed.
Justin....my husband? Do I have a husband? Oh yes! He is the one I pass by and unfortunately neglect most of the time until all three kids are in bed and we collapse on the couch next to each other to stare at the wall for a few minutes. I'm lucky he puts up with me! He's a wonderful husband and father and we are lucky to have him in our lives.
I don't pretend to be a great writer, but hopefully some of you will find humor in my everyday chaos. One of the main reasons for wanting to do this, was to have a creative outlet in which I can process my thoughts, look back on the day (or week, or month) and smile. Ever since we were blessed with twin boys in addition to our beautiful toddler Addison, our life moves at a frightening pace. I literally have to laugh (even when I sometimes want to cry) that as soon as I get all three down for a nap, run around the house picking up the morning mess and even BEGIN to contemplate something such as brushing my teeth (!) - the first child somehow senses this and is back up again ready to hit the ground sprinting! Our days begin at 5am and I am not really sure they ever end! I've decided the key to surviving three children at these young ages is mental surrender. Just don't expect time to do anything and if somehow the stars align and you are able to drink your coffee before it is ice cold - praise God!! So....short story long :), this blog is my means of logging and remembering the great moments and maybe the not so great ones that I can surely someday look back upon and laugh.
Don't get me wrong, my children are my world and they are wonderful. Of course I am completely bias, but in my mind God knew Addison was a girl who could handle having younger twin brothers. Sure we have our "terrible two (or three)" moments, but all in all she has been my biggest cheerleader since they were born and she loves and cares for her brothers passionately. She is also our comic relief and continues to baffle us with her intelligence. She's my blonde haired, blue-eyed angel. Lucas is "twin A" (born first) and Evan "twin B". They have been so different, right from the start. Though their personalities have flip flopped some in their 9 months of development - they remain quite the dynamic duo and they have only just begun! Lucas we currently call our "fat cat" as he enjoys sitting and eating and well, crawling backwards until he crashes into something as he has not yet mastered crawling in the proper direction. He has a laugh and smile that would melt anyone's heart and thunder thighs to prove his love of food. Evan is our little sneaky troublemaker. He has joyous eyes and a killer smile. Spunk that he keeps under wraps, until he is ready to cause mischief. Tall like his Daddy and full of love. I couldn't have dreamt these three up, Justin and I consider ourselves immensely blessed.
Justin....my husband? Do I have a husband? Oh yes! He is the one I pass by and unfortunately neglect most of the time until all three kids are in bed and we collapse on the couch next to each other to stare at the wall for a few minutes. I'm lucky he puts up with me! He's a wonderful husband and father and we are lucky to have him in our lives.
So that is probably enough in the way of an introduction. I will try to add posts when I can and hopefully my blogs will just contain commentary on the everyday crazy things that go on in our household or have happened in the past...stay tuned!
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