This might be a bit ambitious, but I have three goals this summer. Or rather, I have three goals that I would like the boys to reach this summer. The first being that they come out of their cribs. I know that they are not babies anymore, but they seriously looooooove their cribs. They have never tried to climb out and therefore nap time still exists, for all of us;) and yes they still share one single crib. I'm fostering a seriously close brotherhood. One night Blake asked to sleep in the toddler bed, (one of their cribs is already converted) and for some reason, we let them. That was it. There was no transition. It went as smoothly as I could have ever imagined. And they still take naps!! The second goal: to get rid of the binkies. Ugh. Not looking forward to that at all. They love their binkies. Like love them like part of their body love. But it's time. We are going on vacation and I have decided that when we come back on the airplane, we will be without binkies. I will tell them that the airport wouldn't let us take them back home. *sigh* I might forever be damaging their love for airplanes though:( And finally my third goal is to potty train. I personally have NO desire to potty train. I am completely overwhelmed by the whole idea. But for them to move into the three year old class at Mother's Day Out, they have to be potty trained. Ugh! I feel a lot of pressure to get this done by September. I also feel like I'm pushing them. What's the hurry? I have no doubt in my mind that they won't be graduating from high school in diapers. Anyway.....that is my summer plan.
I know that by writing this it sounds as if I treat my boys like babies. I do. Whether it's right or wrong, good or bad that is how I parent. I probably won't have any more children. I can't imagine another pregnancy and risking my health when I have to healthy boys that I am privileged to watch grow. And so I do baby them. Because tomorrow they are going to be graduating from high school.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
this week
Whew. It's been a rough week. Nothing in particular stands out. Just that the boys have been...rowdy. Testing me. Pushing me. Trying me. To the breaking point. To the moment where I feel like I am going to snap them like a twig. I don't, but God help me, there are moments when I am just done.
I thought that the baby stage was hard. Sleepless nights, spit up, diaper blow outs. But this stage is soooo hard. And possibly the most important. The discipline that I demand now will serve their demeanor in the future. "Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it." I believe in this. Yet there are times, a lot of times, when I am too tired to argue. Where it is just easier to let them win. And to be honest, I don't want to be the bad guy. I am with them all day long. The burden of responsibility is daunting. I am fully aware that I am mostly responsible for the behavior of my children. How I react or don't react will impact their lives in ways that I can only begin to imagine. They look to me for guidance. They rely on me for instruction. They need me for discipline. But sometimes I just want to be fun. Someone with no responsibilities. Carefree and spontaneous and captivating.
Parenting has been hard. (I will say though that marriage has been harder. Not that I don't love my husband, but there are days when I have to consciously chose to like him;) with parenting there is no choice for the adoration is there from the first breath you witnessed your child take). Day after day I am brought to my knees. Hour after hour I second guess myself. I am my own worst enemy. The judgement I bestow upon myself is far worse than anyone else could pass down. Every day, every single day I buy a ticket on this roller coaster, strap myself in and prepare for the highest highs and the lowest lows. Sometimes with only minutes between the two extremes. I can go from laughter to tears to anger more quickly than most can tie their own shoe. I can beat myself up so badly that my heart resembles the inside of a battered women's shelter. At the end of the day I am exhausted.
And yet. I do know that parenting is a gift. A privilege. An honor. And while I do complain, I will never take for granted this opportunity to guide these souls into men of God.
I know that even if my children still are wearing diapers when they are four years old that they will not be wearing them when they graduate high school. I know that one day my son will choose to eat a vegetable without bribery. I know that eventually my sons will no longer head butt each other to get their way. Just as I know that in the blink of an eye they will ask no longer ask me to hold them.
Time flies....lucky for us that the heart is wonderful at holding on.
I thought that the baby stage was hard. Sleepless nights, spit up, diaper blow outs. But this stage is soooo hard. And possibly the most important. The discipline that I demand now will serve their demeanor in the future. "Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it." I believe in this. Yet there are times, a lot of times, when I am too tired to argue. Where it is just easier to let them win. And to be honest, I don't want to be the bad guy. I am with them all day long. The burden of responsibility is daunting. I am fully aware that I am mostly responsible for the behavior of my children. How I react or don't react will impact their lives in ways that I can only begin to imagine. They look to me for guidance. They rely on me for instruction. They need me for discipline. But sometimes I just want to be fun. Someone with no responsibilities. Carefree and spontaneous and captivating.
Parenting has been hard. (I will say though that marriage has been harder. Not that I don't love my husband, but there are days when I have to consciously chose to like him;) with parenting there is no choice for the adoration is there from the first breath you witnessed your child take). Day after day I am brought to my knees. Hour after hour I second guess myself. I am my own worst enemy. The judgement I bestow upon myself is far worse than anyone else could pass down. Every day, every single day I buy a ticket on this roller coaster, strap myself in and prepare for the highest highs and the lowest lows. Sometimes with only minutes between the two extremes. I can go from laughter to tears to anger more quickly than most can tie their own shoe. I can beat myself up so badly that my heart resembles the inside of a battered women's shelter. At the end of the day I am exhausted.
And yet. I do know that parenting is a gift. A privilege. An honor. And while I do complain, I will never take for granted this opportunity to guide these souls into men of God.
I know that even if my children still are wearing diapers when they are four years old that they will not be wearing them when they graduate high school. I know that one day my son will choose to eat a vegetable without bribery. I know that eventually my sons will no longer head butt each other to get their way. Just as I know that in the blink of an eye they will ask no longer ask me to hold them.
Time flies....lucky for us that the heart is wonderful at holding on.
And just so I don't forget....every time I begin to get angry with the boys for something they have done, Blake will look up at me and say, "Are you happy?" Maybe that is God's way of showing grace. Giving me a chance to catch my breath and reign in my emotions. Of course, it could also be Blake just trying to distract me from getting in trouble;)
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Monday, April 28, 2014
Following Through
I HAVE A BUCKET LIST. I'M CERTAIN MOST EVERYBODY DOES. THINGS THAT ONE HOPES TO ACCOMPLISH IN LIFE. I HAD A LOT OF TIME TO PONDER MY LIST. I WAS ON BEDREST FOR 111 DAYS. AS IN FLAT ON MY BACK, NOT ABLE TO MOVE EXCEPT TO USE THE BATHROOM. SOMETIMES DAYDREAMING WAS LITERALLY THE ONLY THING THAT PROPELLED ME TO THE NEXT HOUR, THE NEXT MINUTE. LOSING BAYLOR WAS HARD. LOSING HARPER WAS HARD. LOSING MY MIND DURING THOSE 111 DAYS WAS THE HARDEST THING I'VE EVER DONE. I CAN SAY THIS NOW. I WAS SUICIDAL. SO CLOSE TO THE EDGE. WANTING REALLY TO JUMP. TO END THE NOTHINGNESS THAT HAD CONSUMED ME THE MINUTE MY CERVIX WAS SEWN SHUT. I CLIMBED DEEP INTO THAT HOLE OF DARKNESS. I ALMOST DIDN'T MAKE IT OUT. LOOKING BACK I AM IN AWE OF THE GRACE THAT MUST HAVE SURROUNDED ME. OF HIS PURPOSE FOR ME. I WAS ALONE....ALL DAY LONG. I WAS ON ENOUGH MEDICATION TO EUTHANIZE AN ELEPHANT. I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY. AND YET HERE I AM. THREE YEARS LATER, I AM ALIVE AND LIVING WITH THE TWO GREATEST LITTLES. MY PURPOSE IS SO CLEAR NOW.
IN THOSE HOURS, DAYS, MONTHS OF DARKNESS THERE WERE BURSTS OF LIGHT. MOMENTS WHEN HOPE TURN HER FACE TO THE SUN AND WARM ME WITH HER RAYS. IT WAS DURING THOSE MOMENTS THAT A SEED WAS PLANTED. A GOAL WAS IMAGINED. I WANTED TO RUN A MINI MARATHON. 13.1 MILES.
I STARTED TRAINING IN JANUARY. I DIDN'T NECESSARILY PICK JANUARY TO BEGIN TRAINING. IT JUST FELT RIGHT. I HAD GOTTEN AN EMAIL ABOUT THE 10 MILE RACE AND THOUGHT THAT JUST MAYBE I COULD RUN 10 MILES. AND SO I TRAINED. A LOT. I WAS SO DISCIPLINED. I LINED UP CHILDCARE SO I COULD RUN. I RAN WHILE THEY WERE AT MOTHER'S DAY OUT. I RAN BEFORE THEY WOKE UP. I JUST RAN. AND I ROCKED IT OUT THE DAY OF THE RACE. AS I CROSSED THE FINISH LINE, WITH CHRIS, I WAS CRYING. I WAS SO PROUD OF MYSELF. AND I KNEW I COULD DO THE MINI.
I HADN'T PLANNED ON DOING THE MINI THIS YEAR. BUT I WAS NEVER GOING TO TRAIN THIS HARD AGAIN. I MIGHT NOT EVER HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY OR BE IN THIS GOOD OF SHAPE AGAIN. AND THEN THERE IS THE MINDSET THAT IF YOU CAN RUN 10 MILES, THEN YOU CAN RUN 13. (FOR THE RECORD THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULL).
I TOLD CHRIS I WANTED TO RUN. HE SAID HE WOULD RUN IT WITH ME. AND TOGETHER WE STARTED TRAINING.
THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE RACE I WAS ON BREATHING TREATMENTS EVERY 6 HOURS AND STEROIDS TWICE A DAY FOR MY ASTHMA. TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE RACE I HAD THAT "AWFUL STOMACH VIRUS." TEN DAYS BEFORE THE RACE I HAD AN INGROWN TOENAIL. EIGHT DAYS BEFORE THE RACE I BROKE MY TOE.
I WENT TO THE PODIATRIST. SHE TOOK AN XRAY TO CONFIRM THE BREAK. I SAT IN HER OFFICE AND CRIED. BIG UGLY CRY. I TOLD HER THAT I HAD TRAINED FOR THIS RACE. THAT THIS WAS SOMETHING I NEVER THOUGHT THAT I'D BE ABLE TO DO....AND DIDN'T KNOW IF I'D EVER DO IT AGAIN. I TOLD HER I HAD TO RUN. I NEEDED TO RUN. SHE TOLD ME THAT WAS A REALLY BAD IDEA, but THAT SHE UNDERSTOOD WHERE I WAS COMING FROM. SHE BUDDY SPLINTED MY TOE AND TOLD ME TO NOT RUN AT ALL BEFORE THE RACE. AND IF I DID RUN THE RACE SHE NEEDED ME TO COME BACK TO HER OFFICE THE DAY AFTER SO SHE COULD CHECK ME OUT AGAIN.
I SAT IN THE PARKING LOT AND CRIED. I CRIED TO CHRIS. I CRIED TO MY MOM. I WAS MEAN TO THE BOYS. I WAS DEVASTATED.
BUT THEN IT'S ONLY A TOE. THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD, EVERYWHERE IN THIS WORLD, WHO WOULD GLADLY TRADE A BROKEN TOE FOR THE AILMENTS THAT AFFECT THEM. IT IS JUST A TOE. I WAS ON BEDREST FOR 111 DAYS. A LONG DAMN TIME. I COULD RUN FOR 3 HOURS.
AND....I DID. I RAN THE MINI MARATHON. IT WAS HARD. IT WAS PAINFUL. EXCRUCIATING AT TIMES. THERE WERE TEARS. THERE WAS SWEARING. BUT THERE WAS DETERMINATION. AND A WILL TO FINISH. AND I DID. BECAUSE I KNEW THAT I COULD. I KNEW THAT THAT SEED PLANTED OVER THREE YEARS AGO HAD GROWN INTO A STOUT TREE OF HOPE NOW.
VICTORY WAS MINE. I DID IT.
IN THOSE HOURS, DAYS, MONTHS OF DARKNESS THERE WERE BURSTS OF LIGHT. MOMENTS WHEN HOPE TURN HER FACE TO THE SUN AND WARM ME WITH HER RAYS. IT WAS DURING THOSE MOMENTS THAT A SEED WAS PLANTED. A GOAL WAS IMAGINED. I WANTED TO RUN A MINI MARATHON. 13.1 MILES.
I STARTED TRAINING IN JANUARY. I DIDN'T NECESSARILY PICK JANUARY TO BEGIN TRAINING. IT JUST FELT RIGHT. I HAD GOTTEN AN EMAIL ABOUT THE 10 MILE RACE AND THOUGHT THAT JUST MAYBE I COULD RUN 10 MILES. AND SO I TRAINED. A LOT. I WAS SO DISCIPLINED. I LINED UP CHILDCARE SO I COULD RUN. I RAN WHILE THEY WERE AT MOTHER'S DAY OUT. I RAN BEFORE THEY WOKE UP. I JUST RAN. AND I ROCKED IT OUT THE DAY OF THE RACE. AS I CROSSED THE FINISH LINE, WITH CHRIS, I WAS CRYING. I WAS SO PROUD OF MYSELF. AND I KNEW I COULD DO THE MINI.
I HADN'T PLANNED ON DOING THE MINI THIS YEAR. BUT I WAS NEVER GOING TO TRAIN THIS HARD AGAIN. I MIGHT NOT EVER HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY OR BE IN THIS GOOD OF SHAPE AGAIN. AND THEN THERE IS THE MINDSET THAT IF YOU CAN RUN 10 MILES, THEN YOU CAN RUN 13. (FOR THE RECORD THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULL).
I TOLD CHRIS I WANTED TO RUN. HE SAID HE WOULD RUN IT WITH ME. AND TOGETHER WE STARTED TRAINING.
THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE RACE I WAS ON BREATHING TREATMENTS EVERY 6 HOURS AND STEROIDS TWICE A DAY FOR MY ASTHMA. TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE RACE I HAD THAT "AWFUL STOMACH VIRUS." TEN DAYS BEFORE THE RACE I HAD AN INGROWN TOENAIL. EIGHT DAYS BEFORE THE RACE I BROKE MY TOE.
I WENT TO THE PODIATRIST. SHE TOOK AN XRAY TO CONFIRM THE BREAK. I SAT IN HER OFFICE AND CRIED. BIG UGLY CRY. I TOLD HER THAT I HAD TRAINED FOR THIS RACE. THAT THIS WAS SOMETHING I NEVER THOUGHT THAT I'D BE ABLE TO DO....AND DIDN'T KNOW IF I'D EVER DO IT AGAIN. I TOLD HER I HAD TO RUN. I NEEDED TO RUN. SHE TOLD ME THAT WAS A REALLY BAD IDEA, but THAT SHE UNDERSTOOD WHERE I WAS COMING FROM. SHE BUDDY SPLINTED MY TOE AND TOLD ME TO NOT RUN AT ALL BEFORE THE RACE. AND IF I DID RUN THE RACE SHE NEEDED ME TO COME BACK TO HER OFFICE THE DAY AFTER SO SHE COULD CHECK ME OUT AGAIN.
I SAT IN THE PARKING LOT AND CRIED. I CRIED TO CHRIS. I CRIED TO MY MOM. I WAS MEAN TO THE BOYS. I WAS DEVASTATED.
BUT THEN IT'S ONLY A TOE. THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD, EVERYWHERE IN THIS WORLD, WHO WOULD GLADLY TRADE A BROKEN TOE FOR THE AILMENTS THAT AFFECT THEM. IT IS JUST A TOE. I WAS ON BEDREST FOR 111 DAYS. A LONG DAMN TIME. I COULD RUN FOR 3 HOURS.
AND....I DID. I RAN THE MINI MARATHON. IT WAS HARD. IT WAS PAINFUL. EXCRUCIATING AT TIMES. THERE WERE TEARS. THERE WAS SWEARING. BUT THERE WAS DETERMINATION. AND A WILL TO FINISH. AND I DID. BECAUSE I KNEW THAT I COULD. I KNEW THAT THAT SEED PLANTED OVER THREE YEARS AGO HAD GROWN INTO A STOUT TREE OF HOPE NOW.
VICTORY WAS MINE. I DID IT.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
EASTER 2014
TODAY WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY. THE BOYS WOKE UP AND FOUND THEIR EASTER BASKETS THAT THE BUNNY LEFT BEHIND. SO BREAKFAST CONSISTED OF CHOCOLATE BUNNIES AND KIT KATS :) THEN WE WENT TO CHURCH AND THE BOYS WERE DRESSED IN THEIR EASTER OUTFITS, THAT THEY WILL PROBABLY ONLY WEAR ONCE...AFTER CHURCH IT WAS OFF TO AUNT JENNI'S FOR EASTER BRUNCH, AN EGG HUNT, AND THE ANNUAL EASTER PINATA. AS THE BOYS GET OLDER, THE HOLIDAY EXPECTATIONS CHANGE. EACH NEW HOLIDAY THE BOYS BECOME MORE AND MORE AWARE OF WHAT IS HAPPENING. AND IT'S BITTERSWEET. BECAUSE I KNOW THAT SOON, IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, THE MAGIC WILL BE GONE. AND SO WILL MY BABIES. SOMETIMES IT IS SO HARD FOR ME TO ENJOY THE PRESENT WHEN I MOURN THE PAST AND FEAR THE FUTURE. YET IN THAT SAME BREATH I NEVER PICTURED MYSELF WITH THREE YEAR OLD LITTLE BOYS, I NEVER IMAGINED MYSELF A MOTHER TO ANYTHING OTHER THAN A BABY. HOW WOULD I LOVE A TODDLER? A LITTLE BOY? BUT LOVE HAS NO PREJUDICE. LOVE IS NOT RESTRICTED BY AGE. LOVE RISES TO EVERY OCCASION. LOVE MULTIPLIES.
HAPPY EASTER! HE IS RISEN!
HAPPY EASTER! HE IS RISEN!
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