A plea to the mothers

There's something that's been bugging me for a while.  6 years to be exact.

"Enjoy every minute of it because it goes by so fast."
"Enjoy it now because they won't always be this little.  And you're going to miss it."
"Enjoy them while they're little."
"It's so much easier when they are little.  When they are older is when it's really hard!  So enjoy it now"
etc, etc, etc.

They are well meaning comments.  I know that.  I really do.  But the fact of the matter is, they aren't really helpful.  In fact, for me, nothing is harder to hear when I'm having a hard time then "Enjoy it now."

Why is it hard to hear?  Because it makes me feel guilty!  I don't enjoy it when my kids scream their heads off at each other.  I don't enjoy it when they fight over every.single.toy. in the house that no one was interested in playing with until one kid happened to pick it up.  I don't enjoy taking my kids to the store and having them have a complete meltdown because I said "no" to something they wanted.  I don't enjoy having an audience for EVERYTHING I do.  (I've always wanted to be an actor and having an audience enjoy my work, but this isn't exactly what I was shooting for).  I don't enjoy fighting to get my 1st grader to do homework that he doesn't want to do because he's already been gone for 8 hours and he just wants to play.  I don't enjoy it when my kids repeatedly reject dinner because "they don't like" something they've never even tasted.

So when someone comes along and tells me to enjoy every minute, and I know I don't and won't enjoy every minute, I feel guilty.  It makes me feel like I'm doing it all wrong.  And someone is always around to tell me that something I'm doing is wrong, so it just gets put on the list of  "All the Things I'm Doing Wrong as a Mom."  It's a long list.  I already feel guilty for a lot of other things.  I don't need to feel guilty for not enjoying all of it, too.

But it goes beyond the guilt I feel when someone says it.  When someone tells you that "this is nothing" and to "just wait until they're older" because that's when it's really hard, it invalidates your feelings.  It's hard to basically be told that your feelings are invalid.  Because your feelings ARE valid.  No one can know exactly how you feel but you, and when someone is basically telling you that what you are feeling is wrong, it hurts.

I will always remember when I told someone that I am always told to enjoy it now because it gets so much harder when they're older she basically said "That's not fair.  They're both hard.  They're just hard in different ways. But it's still hard."  I can still hear her saying that to me when other people tell me differently, and I'll forever be grateful for it!

So my plea to you...all of you that have passed this particular phase in your life where you have young kids, is to please remember.  Please remember how it felt to you then.  Please remember how it felt to always have someone on you.  Please remember how it felt to constantly be asked for juice, or a snack, or a show.  Please remember how it felt when your kids fought all day long.  Please remember how it felt to be up several times during the night with a baby, and to then have to get up and face the day with all of your young children.  Please remember how it felt to try to talk and reason with little humans who don't even know how to fully express themselves or their wants.  And remember how it felt to just feel so overwhelmed with it all and to feel like it would never end (even though you knew it would).

And when you remember that, and then you hear a mom of young kids struggling, don't automatically tell them to enjoy it or tell them how much harder it is later.  Instead, it would be so meaningful for that mom to hear "I know!  It is hard!" and to just get some sympathy and understanding from someone who's been there and done that.  Because we know that it goes fast and that we'll miss it (well, as much as you can know when it hasn't actually happened but do know it does happen).  And we do know that there will be lots of huge trials when they are older (I'm already stressing about those days)(plus, I was a teenager/young adult once, and I remember what I was like.  yeesh! Not looking forward to being the one to deal with that!).  But what we need to know is that we shouldn't feel guilty and our feelings our valid, and we aren't the only ones who haven't enjoyed every moment of it, and that everything will be ok.  We will continue to enjoy the good, but we want to not feel bad about not enjoying the hard stuff, too.

Stop!

Every day at 1:00 p.m. is quiet time in our house.  cC naps, luC has to play in her room, and bC and I nap in my bed (usually).  The last 2 days I have so been looking forward to quiet time, as my eyes have burned with tiredness all morning.  (Not due to bC keeping me up at night, but I think due to the medication I'm taking.)  Then quiet time comes, and I lie in bed by bC and I just can't sleep.  I close my eyes and soak in the relief of my burning eyes finally resting, then I can't help but open them again and stare at bC.

For a few years now I've had my mind set on 5 children.  Everything about that just felt...right.  Which was a huge leap from after jC was born and I was convinced there was no way I could have more.

But over the last couple of months, all of that rightness has become uneasiness.  I obviously just had a baby, so I obviously have time to figure it all out.  However, I feel like I need to savor every single second in case I don't get to experience it again.  And also feel like I need to figure it out so I can mentally prepare myself for whatever outcome there is, because no matter what, it's going to be hard.

These are the days when I hate, hate my DVT.  These are the days when I feel like it's ruined everything.  These are the days when I just wish more than anything that I could go back in time and know what it was, what exact moment it was that caused my DVT, and do something differently in that moment to stop it from happening.

I'm mad that that my DVT leg is larger than my other leg and probably always will be.  I'm mad that I'm vain enough to care about my leg being larger than my other leg.  I'm mad that my leg feels heavy and gets swollen if I'm on my feet.  I'm mad that I can't exercise the way I want to.  I'm mad that I can't go for my walks like I used to.  I'm mad that if I were to have a 5th, like I thought I would, that it would mean shots in my stomach daily for over 9 months.  I'm mad that if I have a 5th, I'd be worried the whole time that in spite of the medicine, I might get another clot.  I'm mad that for the rest of my life, when I travel for long distances, I'm going to worry about getting another clot.  I'm mad that I have to worry about eating something that's going to affect my medication.  I'm mad that most of the day and especially at the end of the day, my leg feels heavy and achy like I've been exercising.  I'm just mad.  And I'm mad that I'm mad.  I'm mad that my last post was about how grateful I was, and that this post is about how mad I am.

And I'm mad that baby bC won't stop growing!  It frustrates me that I'm not enjoying this time like I should.  I feel like it's going by way too quickly, and that my mind is too many other places.  What if this is my last baby? What if these are the last days of me getting to feed a newborn, and rock a newborn to sleep?  What if this is the last time that I'm getting to experience the first smile, the first laugh, the first time rolling over, and the first steps?  I feel a little bit cheated that this is how I'm experiencing it.  I wish more than anything everything with my kids would just freeze for a little bit.  I just want everything to stop!

I know it doesn't sound like it, but I truly am grateful for so much.  But right now, I'm also just mad. So I guess for now, I'll keep staring at my sleeping baby whenever I actually get the chance to, and hope that some day soon I will change my attitude so that I can be more happy and not so mad.

Boy Oh Boy....Oh Boy

I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  I never, ever, ever pictured myself as a mom of 3 boys.  Just saying it makes my heart race.  For some reason, I thought 2 boys would be the max.  I'd had a feeling all along that it was another boy, which would be the first time ever that my feeling was right.  And I can't deny the fact that I was hoping for just one more girl.  But of course, all that matters to me is that we have a sweet little baby to hold in the end.  No matter what is hidden under it's diaper.

I've been thinking of the benefits of having another boy.  For starters, we have a billion boxes of boy clothes.  We are getting some really good use out of these clothes!  A large portion of the smaller sizes of clothes came from my sister.  And a good chunk of the clothes that came from my sister first came from my brother.  Which means that a lot of them had already been worn by 3 boys before they got to me.  Then my 2 boys have worn them.  Which means by the time this baby wears them, he'll be the 6th one to wear them.  So, I'd say that the money spent on the clothes was very, very well spent and put to good use!

Along with that is that we are already getting a good stock pile of Halloween costumes for the fellas!  It won't be long before we have all we need and I won't even have to buy anymore.

One of the problems of our home is that leftover food usually sits in the fridge and then gets thrown away.  It's such a waste.  With 3 boys we will no doubt not have that problem because either 1.  There won't be any leftovers from dinner or 2.  The leftovers will get eaten soon after.

Let's be honest...girls are emotional.  And I'm not trying to say that boys aren't, but we all know it's different.  I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about the fact that as of right now, I'm glad that we only have 1 girl to deal with when it comes to a certain part of a girls life.  I imagine that the boys in the family will later agree that 2 of us is plenty.

One day I'm really going to enjoy sending all of the boys outside to mow the grass, trim the bushes, build things with wood and bricks, and use chainsaws...while luC and I stay inside baking cookies and brownies and eating chocolate while watching romantic comedies and follow it up by
going to the mall.

With 3 boys that will probably each be taller than me by the time they are 12 (poor luC, she's so tiny I'm not sure she has that same chance), surely I will look like a little lady with a crew of bodyguards around me.  That's always a plus!

I've always wanted to know every single detail of how Boy Scouts works.  Here's my chance!  And boys haircuts are way easier/cheaper than girls!  Buzz cuts for everyone!

Ok, so seriously, before you start judging me and thinking I'm a girl hater...I really was hoping to have one more girl.  Of course if we have another, there's still a chance.  But I have to look on the bright side now and start psyching myself out now.  Because who knows, we may have another one...and it may be another boy.  (And that's ok, too!!)

We're Having Another Baby!

In case you missed it (how could you have missed it?)  the C Clan is having another baby.  Yes, ANOTHER baby.  (Believe it or not, there are people out there that have more children than us.  WAY more children than us.  Stop acting so surprised by us having our 4th.)

It's funny.  I hate making lists...like, to do lists.  HATE it.  If I had to choose between making a to-do list and digging a 4x4 foot deep hole with a kitchen spoon, I'd choose the latter.  But for some reason, when it comes to blogging, I'm all about the lists.  Which is something you've probably realized if you've read more than a few of my blog posts.

So of course, I have to make a list, for you, about why we are having another baby.  Not that I really think I owe an explanation.  But hey,  if it helps, why not.

--I gave our first reason on facebook, when announcing our pregnancy.  And I quote, "So here's the thing. I personally think it is important for all of the really good parents in the world that raise smart, nice, well behaved children to have lots of children so as to populate the world with. Conversely, I think it is equally important for all of the inadequate parents in the world that raise sassy, ill-behaved children to have lots of children to even things out. Which is why we are having another baby. Coming to even things out sometime around August."

--I love changing diapers!  Love it, love it, love it.  The more, the merrier.  It's right up there on my list of loves next to making to-do lists.

--juC looks super cute holding a newborn baby.  (And changing their diapers, when he begs me to let him have a turn.)

--When we moved into our house, I did pretty well get unpacked in an appropriate amount of time.  However, it wasn't very organized.  I had cC, at home, a little over a year after we moved into our house.  Those few months leading up to his birth, I was a machine.  I got the house cleaned and organized like never before.  It was awesome.  Then cC was born and it took approximately 3 days 14 hours and 27 minutes for all of the cleaning and organization I did to come undone and only decline since then.  Soooo, have another baby at home = motivation and energy to get the house cleaned and organized to the max.  It's a win-win.  Cute newborn baby AND an organized house.  (Even if it doesn't last very long.)

--Newborn babies smell like heaven. 

--little jC started asking for another baby when cC was like, a week old.  And I give my children everything they want, soooo...

--I wouldn't have said this when I was pregnant with little jC, but I LOVED my pregnancies with luC and cC.  No joke.  I was miserable with jC.  MISERABLE.  And I fear that this pregnancy will have the same outcome.  BUT, I really appreciated the next two pregnancies.  Feeling a growing baby inside of me...that is an amazing, AMAZING experience.  It is something I will forever, and ever be grateful I have been able to experience, and I am thankful for the opportunity to experience it again.  Being able to experience a tiny, growing babies movements is definitely a on the top of my list of why we are having another.  It's truly a huge blessing.

--juC and I love sleep deprivation.  There is nothing like being awake 27 times a night with a newborn baby.  Bring it on!

--Babies are just cute.  Even ugly ones.  How could we not want to stare at another one for hours on end?  Their tiny fingers, and tiny noses, and tiny lips, and tiny feet.  Oh my goodness!! 

--I touched on it already, but seriously, babies are such an amazing blessing.  How could we not want to take advantage of the blessings that we have been given?  People say we are crazy and that's fine (I guess).  Having children is definitely seen as a sacrifice by many, but we are willing to sacrifice for these amazing little humans that our Heavenly Father has so graciously blessed us with.    Although I'm not always as grateful as I should be, and don't always appreciate my children to their fullest, I love them more than I ever knew I could.  There was no denying it was time for another, and we are unbelievably grateful for the opportunity to have another sweet spirit join our family.

**It should be noted that having children has made me appreciate so much the struggle that others have in being able to have children.  Having children made me realize what an amazing miracle it is that not everyone gets to experience, and for those of you that have struggled or are struggling, my heart truly goes out to you!  And I know that you will be blessed beyond measure for your struggle.

Memories

Last week, after jC got home from school, he and luC sat down to watch a show.  Baby cC came up and started pulling on luC's feet and she called out to me that he was getting her.  jC sweetly said "you can put them on me so he can't get you."

Since jC started kindergarten, they pretty much fight nonstop after he gets home from school.  (Particularly about luC sitting too close in proximity to him while they watch a show) So when this scene went down, there was a glimmer of hope that they won't be mortal enemies forever.

There are a whole slew of occurrences like this that I'm so scared I'm going to forget but want to always remember.  I have been absolutely horrible at keeping a journal, which makes me so sad.

Like a few weeks ago when jC and luC were going up the stairs and jC said "I'm going to win!" (because he always has to win) and luC sweetly and innocently said "I'm going to lose." (because for the most part, what does she care?)

Or last week when luC found one of those neck support things for when people travel and thought it was a boppy.  She put it around her and said she was going to feed cC.  Then proceeded to pull up her shirt as he sat in the exersaucer and he tried to grab her.

Then there was about a month ago when I was on a walk with luC and cC.  It's funny because luC has no interest in cars.  Because...she's a 2 year old girl and all.  But she is always noticing jeeps.  (Yeah!)  So there was a jeep that she saw out on our walk that prompted a conversation about her wanting a jeep and that's what she's going to drive when she's a big girl.  Something about having that conversation with a 2 year old was funny and made me proud.

And one of my favorites is when I'm in another room doing something and cC starts crying and jC says "cC is crying and luC didn't do anything!"  Because we all know if cC is crying, it's probably because luC is torturing him!

And last week I got jC his pouch apple sauce to put into his lunch box.  I showed him that these ones had new helicopter looking tops to make for easier opening for younger kids.  He was asking all about it and said "Who came to put the new tops on?"  I love the way their little minds work.

Or the way luC calls high chairs "hiding chairs".
Or the way jC calls Chuck-e-Cheese "Chuck-e-cheezits" and McDonald's "Old McDonald's".
Or the way jC and luC both say "smarshmellows".

Seriously, I don't want to forget ANYTHING!  Ok, maybe I do want to forget some of it.  But for the love of Pete, I really need to do better about documenting!!  It already makes me sad to think about all of the little things I'm going to forget

But going back to my first story and mentioning my kids constant fighting about sitting too close to each other.  What is with that?!  We seriously have a very large couch that could seat 7 people comfortably, but my 2 small children can't make it work?  And we have a very large floor area, and my kids both want to sit in the same spot on the floor and have a huge fight about it?  I swear, it's a conspiracy!

Esther 12:27

One of the biggest sources The biggest source of guilt that I feel in my every day life is in my lack of abilities as a mother.  Specifically my biggest weakness...my lack of patience which usually quickly escalates to a raised voice or yelling.  Every time I yell at one of my children I immediately feel guilty.  Every time I read things from other people who talk about their imperfections as a parent, but then say things like "But at least I don't yell at my kids", I feel guilty.  I read those things, or read uplifting posts from other moms who have "figured it out" and I vow to myself to do better.

But the reality is, the next day luC stands by the toilet and pees on the floor.  And then she body slams cC because he has a toy she wants.  And jC freaks out because he can't have what he wants right when he wants it.  And he hits luC for the pure joy of it.  The new day and new start I was looking forward to is just a brand new day of the reality that I am impatient and my kids are kids.

Yesterday, as I sat on the couch and juC was down in the basement with the kids, little jC came upstairs.  He was smiling and happy and he kept hugging me and giving me kisses.  He grabbed on to my hand, and gently shaking his head with exclamation, he whispered "I really love you."  My heart melted and broke at the precise moment he said it.

Then later in the day, luC came and sat on me while I was watching General Conference.  Similar to my experience with jC in the morning, she repeatedly hugged me and kissed me, and kept sweetly saying "I love you."  Similarly, my heart melted and broke at the same time.

My kids are kids.  They are pure.  They are sweet.  They are easy to forgive and usually easy to forget.  But I know it won't always be that way.  As they showed so much natural affection to me it made me thankful that apparently I'm doing at least part of my job right.  It made me glad that in spite of my failings, they can still find it in their heart to love me and appreciate me.  But it made my heart break because I know that in the not distant future, they will grow up.  And when they grow up, they won't so easily forgive my shortcomings.  They won't so easily look past my lack of patience.  They won't be so willing to show me love when I'm so willing to show them anger.

With all of my heart I want to do better.  I want to be the mom they deserve and need.  I'm trying with all of my might to be patient and loving even when they push me to my absolute limit.  I don't know if I will ever perfect my impatience.  But I hope with everything in me that I can overcome what I consider to be a huge trial before they are old enough to lose their patience with me and realize that maybe I don't deserve their unconditional love.  I will strive each day to do a little bit better than I did the day before in the hopes that one day I will get it right.  And I will find a little bit of comfort in the fact that even though I may not be doing it right, I am at least trying.

What's with us women?

Every once in a while, I post something serious. This is one of those times.  I actually originally started writing this post well over a year ago, but recent thoughts and such have finally prompted me to actually finish and post it.

About 2 years ago I was at stake conference, and it was the one where they do a broadcast. I wish I could remember which General Authority it was that spoke, but I can't remember for the life of me. Which is horrible, because it was an amazing talk.

As he was speaking, it's like he was speaking directly to me and what I needed to hear.  Then he said something that made me immediately take out a pen and paper to write what he said, which is so very rare for me!  Of course by the time I got the pen and paper, I was just hoping that what I actually remembered to write down was anything near what he actually said. What I wrote down was (Satan is) "Trying to divert from womanly/motherly duties by having us focus on our physical attributes."

This (probably very abbreviated) statement really hit me. Everywhere I look, I feel like we are focusing on the physical. Whether it is trying to get in perfect shape after having a baby, or trying to look physically attractive with the clothes we wear. I constantly see pins on Pinterest for "losing 5 lbs quickly", "get flat abs in 5 weeks" or pins for what clothes are most in style. I constantly find myself wanting to make sure I look a certain way hoping that people will accept or like me more. Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting to look presentable, but I can't help but feel like it's something that we've let consume us at times.

To hear that it is Satan's way of trying to divert me from my womanly/motherly duties really struck me. Of all the ways I thought of him trying to divert me from those things, I never considered that as one of them.  And I see now that it's not just wanting to be in shape and wear perfectly styled clothes, but the time I take to figure out what those things are. How much time am I spending online looking for the perfect clothes to wear? How much time do I spend online trying to find the perfect hairstyle? How much time do I spend online seeing what exercises I should be doing to flatten my motherly stomach? I don't know the exact answer, but I know that whatever time that is, it was time spent away from my husband and my children.

Why have we as women become so critical of ourselves?  Why do we think we are ugly or unattractive because our stomachs aren't what they used to be before we had kids?  Why do we not see how badly we are making other women/mothers feel when we constantly criticize our physical appearance when they look like us, too?  Why have we put so much unneeded pressure on ourselves and others to have the "perfect" body?  Why do we start freaking out about our size 2 weeks after having a baby??  Why do we allow celebrities to set the bar for unrealistic expectations of what we should look like?  Why can't our focus be on being healthy and not on being thin??  Why can we not see what thoughts and expectations we are putting into our kids heads when we do all of these things??  And why...WHY do we let these things keep us from being the women and mothers we should be??

I cannot deny the fact that I have feelings of anger (yes, anger) with how much focus is put on our physical appearance these days.  No matter where I go I see people posting and talking about losing weight, wanting to get rid of their "baby pooch", feeling down because they don't look like they used to, being jealous of so and so because they look so much better, and on and on and on.  I'm so done with it.  And while I'm at it, I'm done with people making underhanded compliments about MY physical appearance.

So how about this...
How about we all stop obsessing (Yes, I do believe it has become an obsession) over our physical attributes?  How about we all focus on being healthy?  How about we all just accept ourselves and everyone else for who they are?  How much better would we be as women and mothers if we put half the effort into our children/families/friends as we did into researching and trying to attain the perfect body?

No, none of us come out and say to someone (or at least I hope we don't)  "Gee, your body looks disgusting."  But basically, that's what we are saying by what we say about ourselves, and by other actions.  So can we all just agree to stop?  Please?

Allow Me To Reintroduce Ourselves

You may have noticed the effort I have made the last few weeks to actually blog.

I thought this would be a good time to reintroduce ourselves.

First, there is my husband, juC.  He is half way through his 30s (poor thing) and works at a job as an employee doing work.  In his free time, he enjoys reading really long books about secret spies in the government, stalking people on facebook (I'm going to get in trouble for that one, but how can you be mad at someone for telling the truth??), and driving me crazy.  He is really good at making breakfast for dinner, grocery shopping, and taking the kids off my hands so I can take naps.

 Then comes our first dear child, little jC.  He will be 5 in September and starting kindergarten.  It makes me want to cry.  He is all about cars, blocks, and numbers.  He loves little cC with all his heart and loves to torture liitle luC with all his heart. He loves going on adventures, which means he hates when it's time to leave adventures.  He also loves to dance.  And when I say loves, I mean LOVES.  jC is proof that the last 5 years of my life have gone by insanely fast.

 Next up is our little luC.  And when I say little, I mean little.  (She is 2.5 years old and is in the 5th percentile for her weight, so that gives you an idea of just how little I mean.)  But don't let her littleness fool you.  She has a massive personality.  She is sweet, compassionate, and full of love.  She is also ornery, sassy, and impatient.  She cannot be convinced to do anything she doesn't want to do.  Unless you cry, thenn you can sucker her in.  (Something jC learned all too well!)  She gives the best hugs.  In-the-entire-world!!  She loves to play with dolls and read books.  And knock cC over.

Which brings us to our newest addition.  Little cC.  And by little, I mean the youngest in the family, not little like luC little.  In fact, he's only a couple pounds lighter than her!  cC is a big old ball of happiness.  Except when he's teething, then he's a big old ball of crankiness.  He really has the best smile that quickly turns my frowns upside down.  His favorite thing to do (aside from sleeping when I want him to be awake, or being awake when I want him to be asleep) is to crawl around the house looking for things to stick in his mouth.  Which means I often find him chewing on someones shoes.  He's a sweet boy!

And last of all, it's me, aniC.  A nearly 31 year old stay at home mom, that feels like a 14 year old that got stuck playing a game of house 5 years ago that won't stop.  Seriously, my life does not feel like my life, but like I'm just going along pretending.  I keep waiting for someone to say "Ok, you can stop now." but apparently this is the real deal.  I also feel like I'm stuck between wanting a million and one babies and feeling like I'm going to lose what's left of my sanity at any minute.  So I'm just plugging along.  Doing my best to be a mediocre wife and a competent mother.  (I've found it's easier to succeed if you set your standards low.)

So, that's us.

--And if any of my loyal readers that always looked forward to "kitty Thursday" are wondering about sweet little, izC, I have bad news for you, good news for her.  izC has a new home.  One with no kids to torture her.  I miss her tremendously, but I don't miss constantly harassing my kids for constantly harassing her.

The Important Questions

It's funny how when you are dating someone, you ask questions that you THINK are important to know if you are compatible with the person and if marriage would work out.  Too bad all of the answers to those questions end up changing through time and experience.
How many kids do you want?
Where do you want to live?
What baby names do you like?
All questions I learned had very changeable answers, depending on the year.  And they really just aren't all that important.

Now that I have kids, I realize what questions I should have asked.  The ones that are actually important. And some other questions that have nothing to do with kids, but I really wish I would have known.
(Please note that it doesn't necessarily mean that it would have changed my mind about marrying my dear, sweet, amazing, loving juC. It just would have been nice to prepare myself mentally. Nor does it mean that these questions would have had negative answers.  But let's just say with most of them, I wouldn't be thinking I should have asked them if it hadn't manifested itself somehow in our dear, sweet, amazing, loving children.)

-How bad is your eyesight?  At what age did you need glasses?
-Did you often get in trouble at school?
-Do you set your alarm unreasonably early and not get up when it goes off, and use the snooze button often? (I knocked out his snooze button usage right away!!)
-Were you a bed wetter as a child?
-Were you a good sleeper as a baby and child?
-Did it take hours for your mom to get you to sleep?
-Were you a picky eater?
-Are you or any of your blood relatives psycho?  (Just to clarify, none of his are, but I should have thought to ask.  He should have thought to ask, too.  Because just because none of his are doesn't mean none of mine are.)(If you are part of my family and reading this, I'm totally not referring to you.)
-How is your snoring?
-Were you a big baby at birth?  (Thankfully, he wasn't.  He was actually quite small.  But it's not something I thought to ask until I was pregnant, and came to terms with the fact that the baby had to come out.)
-How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
-Is your family known for making cute babies?  (I actually didn't need to ask that question.  His nieces and nephews were the perfect evidence.)

Just a few questions I'd never thought about.  So perhaps if you have any single friends or family that are looking for "the one" you should share this list with them so they know what they should really be asking.
But, it really doesn't matter, I suppose.   I chose unbelievably well, even if I wasn't presented with all of the facts.

A True Story of Courage

If you know me, you will understand why this story is one of true courage.  If you don't know me, perhaps you should.  Or you should just know that the fear I have of the intruder mentioned in this story is a fear like no other I've known before.

Last week was a week just like any other.  No, that's not true.  Last week, for the first time in my life as a mother, I had to have us up and ready every day of the week to get jC off to his day camp that we'd signed him up for.  (You'd think it wouldn't be that much more difficult than getting us all up and ready for preschool when he was going 3 days a week.  You'd be wrong.)  (Have I mentioned how much I am NOT looking forward to jC starting kindergarten in September and having to do it every day for months on end?)

We were up.  We were ready.  We were running a few minutes late.  No big deal.

We were just moments away from being able to walk out of the door.  I placed cC in the car seat that was sitting atop the kitchen island.  I began to put the straps on him.  And that's when things got scary.

As I was about to put the second strap on cC's shoulder, I saw it.  There it was...RIGHT THERE.  It was walking right along the handle of the car seat that was pushed back flush with the seat itself.  It was right by my poor, defenseless babies head (and right by my poor defenseless arm, might I add.)

A quiet squeal escaped my mouth, alarming my other children to the immanent danger.  jC, being the scarediest of us all could not hide his fear.  I put on a brave face and assured him that I would protect my sweet little children from this unwanted evil intruder that had come into our home.

In the face of danger, I pulled myself together and acted quickly.  In a matter of seconds, I had poor helpless cC out of the car seat and safely on the floor.  jC was impressed by my fast acting, life saving maneuver.  I was, too.  But there was no time for celebrating cC's new found safety.  There was still an evil being to rid our home of.

So I did what any other person in my situation would do.

I grabbed a sturdy, easily held box that was on the kitchen island, and threw it at the car seat.  My aim was bad given my mental state.  I picked the box up again.  I pulled myself together and gave myself a brief pep talk.  Then I aimed the box at the demon and threw again.  My aim was better and it knocked it down onto the floor.  (Don't worry, my children were safely away from the battle ground.)

I was in the zone.  I had my 3 dear children to protect and this was the moment of truth.

I grabbed the box for one more go at it.  With precision like no other, I dropped the box on this spawn of Satan, and heroically put my foot on the box, squishing the contents underneath to smithereens.

That monstrous spider messed with me on the wrong day!  When evil tries to come between a mom and her 3 dear children (no matter how scared the mom may be of the evil), evil will fail!!

Pardon me while I work through my issues on my blog

I know we aren't supposed to say things like this, as mothers, but jC has been quite the difficult child the last couple of weeks.  No, that's a lie.  To be more accurate, it's been much, much more than a couple of weeks.

You see, jC is 4, almost 5.  And I can only assume he is acting like a typical 4, almost 5 year old.  (At least that's what I tell myself for comfort.)  Yes, he is is still very young.  However, when he is the oldest of our children, I put (unnecessary) pressure on him to act older and more mature.  I know it's my flaw.

-He says no to everything we ask him to do.  But he doesn't just say no.  (Although we hope he does when he's older.)  He's all "NooooOOOOoooooo!!!!" *foot stomp* *arm cross*
-There are about a million and one toys in our house, most of which he is never, ever interested in.  Until luC starts to play with it.  Then he makes it his life mission to take it away from her and keep it away from her.
-I cannot tell you how many times I've watched him play nicely with luC,  bringing me a brief moment of some relief, and then 2 seconds later he smacks her in the face.
-He often has to be put in his room for hitting and not staying in time out and then hitting some more.  Then pounding and yelling on his bedroom door after he is put in there.  (The pounding and yelling is music to our ears, which is why we make it happen so often.)
-The first hour of church has become torturous for us.  He takes everything from luC.  He won't let her play with anything she wants to, and he beats up on his poor defenseless daddy.  But, he does all of this with a smile and laughter.  If you are a parent, you know that this is one of the most frustrating times as a parent to keep calm.
-He will not eat new food.  Even when it's delicious and I know it's something he will like.  He repeatedly says he doesn't like it and goes back to that whole  "NooooOOOOoooooo!!!!" thing I first mentioned.
-Every single night before bed, he has to go to the bathroom.  Every.single night.  And yet some how, it seems to come as a surprise to him each night when we make him do it...just like he's done all the previous nights before.  The effort it takes to get him just to go to the bathroom sometimes before bed is exhausting just to think about.

I could go on, but I'll refrain.  You get the point.

So...jC's bed has a shelf as a headboard.  It's been great.  During quiet time (a must in our house) he uses his shelf headboard to play with his cars, build with his blocks, and play with any other toys he feels needs the shelf-headboard treatment.

One day, he had his door cracked and I stood there watching him play.  He was playing with the blocks in the above picture (although this picture was not taken then.)  He was stacking the blocks up high, making them symmetrical on each side of the shelf.  The problem was, the shelf was a little off kilter and one side wasn't making for an even building ground.  I knew, as he was about to put a piece on that it would make that whole side fall.  He was putting so much care into it.  On went his next piece and down went his work of art.

He hung his head down, let out the saddest little "humph" with the saddest little frown on his face, and defeated, dropped his shoulders and hands.

In that moment, I felt everything a mother feels for her child when a child feels hurt and disappointed.  (Yes, all because of some silly blocks.) I saw him for the little child that he truly is and am always forgetting he is. I wanted to rush in there and fix his shelf and help him fix his building.  I stayed and watched for just a little bit more, and saw him as he picked his head up and tried to build it again.  But, going back to those motherly feelings I was having, I rushed in there to help him because I couldn't take seeing him disappointed like that again.

I will always remember that look on his face.  A look that I had never seen as he's played around the house. It was an honest moment he had when he had no idea anyone was watching.  And every time he is hitting luC, or yelling "NO!" at the top of his lungs, or refusing to go to the bathroom even though his legs are crossed to prevent an accident...I try in that very moment (not always successfully) to remember that look on his face.  To remember how little and innocent he truly is.  And when I do successfully remember that moment and remember who he really is, it makes it much easier to handle those difficult moments.

Accomplishments

luC is 2 and a half years old.  It is safe to say that accomplishments she makes at 2.5 are not things that I would consider accomplishments at my age.

Figured out how to get the cap off of something...accomplishment.
Got a shoe on with no help...accomplishment.
Reached something that was up on the counter...accomplishment.
Finding random pieces of food around the house or car and getting to eat them in all their stale glory...accomplishment!
Getting something away from jC....ACCOMPLISHMENT!!

This knowledge that her accomplishments are "smaller" than things I would consider is nothing new.  

But a couple of days ago, as I drove us around running errands, I watched her in the rear view mirror.  I watched as she took the sunglasses off that *I* put on her because she has a hard time getting them on right. I watched her as she tired with all of her concentration to put her sunglasses on top of her head, the way I wear them when I'm inside.  I watched her as she struggled and got a little flustered as she'd get them on and they'd immediately fall down.  And I watched her as she finally accomplished getting them on there.  She looked so proud of her "little" accomplishment.

When we pulled up to our house, I got my camera ready and I opened the door.  I asked her if I could take a picture, and she was more than willing to capture her accomplishment in a picture.  Her response was "I put them on mine head!!!"  The look on her face in the picture says it all.

It got me thinking about myself, and what I consider accomplishments.

As a mother with young kids, I often feel like I accomplish nothing, and I often feel like I fall short.  Truth is, a large part of this is probably because I not only compare myself to other moms, but because I compare myself to moms that have kids that are grown up.  But I compare, none the less, which never has a positive outcome.  

The bottom line is, in my comparison with other moms, I focus on all of the things I don't accomplish. My house doesn't seem clean enough, my kids don't seem well behaved enough, and my fuse isn't long enough.

 But when I really think about it, and stop making comparisons, I accomplish so much....even if people on the outside might consider it a small accomplishment.

I got out of bed....accomplishment.

I didn't lose my temper when one of the kids did something wrong...accomplishment.

I made a dinner...accomplishment.

I got out of pajamas and put make up on...accomplishment.

Taught my kids what a word means...accomplishment.

I made it a whole day with out crying...accomplishment.

Gathered the trash for juC...accomplishment.

I went to the grocery store with all 3 kids...accomplishment.

Defused a fight between jC and luC...accomplishment.

The day is over and my husband and children were cared for and loved...ACCOMPLISHMENT.

No matter how anyone else views it, each accomplishment I make throughout the day, big or little, is still an accomplishment.  And I need to be more like luC and be proud of each one that is achieved instead of comparing and focusing on all that isn't.  Maybe...just maybe, if I focus on those accomplishments instead of supposed failures, I'll actually start to view myself as the good mom that I have been accused of being.

My New Normal

After luC was born, I didn't leave the house by myself with my 2 kids for months.  I'm talking months, and months, and months, and months, and months, and months, and more months.  I know.  BUT, in my defense, any time luC made even a peep of a cry, jC would have a completely ridiculous meltdown.  She would have been done with her crying for 10 minutes and jC would sometimes still be freaking out about it. So the thought of going out with the two of them alone was absolutely the most stressful thing imaginable.  It was a hard time (as documented here)

Which is why I'm utterly proud of myself.  (don't judge me for being proud of myself.)

December 3 was a day I was dreading.  December 3 was the day that I would be alone with all 3 kids for the first time.  I was SO very lucky enough to have juC home for 2 weeks, (with a visit from my helpful parents in there), and have juC's parents here for 2 weeks.  Having help for the first month (minus 2 days) of cC's life was amazing, and the thought of going at it alone was petrifying.  (don't judge me for feeling this way, not everyone is as awesome as you are.)

So imagine my surprise when I found myself not only going out with all 3 kids out of necessity (taking jC to and from preschool), but also out with all 3 kids enjoying some unseasonably warm weather.  And as I walked along with cC strapped to me, pushing luC, and jC riding along in front of me I had an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment and happiness.  December 3 wasn't the easiest day in the world, but it also wasn't the hardest.  I actually survived.  Which led me to believe I would actually survive the days that followed.

3 kids is my new normal and it still blows my mind.

Our bay-bay

I think almost everyone is aware now that baby #3 is a wee wittle boy. Poor little jC...he kept saying it was a girl, and was completely and totally convinced. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that he was one with the baby, and knew it's gender. But, when I did the needle and thread test (holding it over my belly, circle motion means girl, back and forth means boy) it said it was a boy. And since it was right with luC, I couldn't help but believe the needle over little jC. And the needle was right!

Something not many people know, though, is that I'm planning to do a home birth (don't call me crazy!!!) with this little one. Which means that this was the first (and probably only) ultrasound I've gotten during pregnancy. So seeing him was so, so amazing! There is just something about seeing that there truly is a baby inside of you that just blows the mind.

And the good news is that little jC took the news of this new baby being a boy quite well. And I'm even more excited than I was before to have a sweet little newborn in our home come November(ish)

If I could freeze time...

I without a doubt would.

With another baby on the way, I'm trying so hard to savor luC's babyhood as much as I can. In 5ish months, she will no longer be the baby in the family, and there is a part of me that mourns that loss for her. I know this time will pass all too quickly.

I have been so easily frustrated with my children these last few weeks, but I know that this time won't last forever, and it's images and times like this that I want ingrained in my mind forever.

sentimental feelings (emphasis on mental)

So here's the truth: I don't want my kids to grow up.

I planned on keeping jT in his crib until he was 8, but then one night I checked on him, and realized that he practically had to fold himself in half, or hang out of the crib to really fit. So at the beginning of the year, we moved him into a bed.

I hadn't planned on potty training him...ever. (He has a certain poop problem that I won't go into details about, but let's just say--He holds it in, all week.) I was convinced there was no way I'd ever get him in underwear. It didn't stop me from talking about it to him and pointing out other kids that used the "big potty". And then last weekend, after seeing one of his friends wearing underwear and using the potty, he decided it was high time for him to, as well. (Well, he still holds his poop in, but at least he does his other business in there now.)

I remember thinking he'd never talk in sentences. And I swear one day months and months ago, he woke up and spoke to me, and could have conversations with me--with individual thoughts and all.

I remember so clearly when he was a newborn, and holding him in the glider in his room during all hours of the night. He was the tiniest little thing who fit perfectly snugly into my folded arms. And I would just sit there, gliding, content, holding that sweet little baby. Then a couple months ago when he was sick, and I held him in that same rocker, his body completely enveloped mine. I wanted to cry. Ok, I did shed some tears. Because my first baby no longer resembles a baby in any way.

As much as I love the boy he is, I absolutely miss the baby he was. I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want him to grow up, and in spite of my best efforts he did it anyway.

My heart absolutely breaks.

I put the "er" in expert

Did you know that I am an expert in all things maternity and motherhood related? You didn't? Oh. Probably because I'm not.

But for some crazy reason I've been given the opportunity over the next couple of months to post on the Milan Maternity blog. Milan Maternity is an online maternity clothing store. They also have stuff for nursing mothers, too. They started a blog about a year ago and post about all things pregnancy, baby, motherhood, and fashion related.

I will be posting there on Mondays and Thursdays, and have already done a couple posts! (entitled "kids clothes for less" and "documenting the baby bump"). If there's anything you think I should post about, feel free to let me know. And make sure to post comments on the blog, which you can find here:
http://milanmaternity.blogspot.com/
And I'll let you in on a little secret. They are doing a giveaway right now! So you better go and enter!

today

I never realized how hard it is to be a mother until becoming a mother myself. I have a whole new respect for my mom.





All those times she was cooking dinner and I would get in her way. Every time she'd get something for herself to eat, I'd just have to try some. Every time she'd lay down for a little rest and I'd come in a bug her. All things that I've gotten a small glimpse of and I'm just starting out as a mother.





She had an after school snack waiting for me when I'd come home from school. She made birthdays and holidays special for everyone in the family. She also taught me how to drive. Thanks to her I'm a safe driver who always uses my blinker. Even if I go a little too fast every now and again thanks to my dad's influence.

Because of all the things she put up with and for all of the things she did for me and all of my siblings, today I have to wish her

THE HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!

April Fools!!

I'm not one for April Fools jokes. It's kind of like Valentines day. Why should we limit love, or fooling, to one day a year?

But this year I made an exception. First I needed to find an easy target. One that would be easily tricked. Little JT seemed like the most gullible, so I set my sights on him and put my plan in motion.

We woke up that morning, had some breakfast. And then I said "Let's go to the park!" And I didn't mean just any old park. I meant Clemyjontri!

So we got dressed, and I loaded us up in the car. We had a 30 minute voyage ahead of us!

I got on the toll road, which cost me $4.15 to get on, and then another $1.00 to get off. Then we drove to the park and it was completely crowded. Nary a parking space to be found, unless we parked down the road and hiked up to the park. I told little JT to worry not, we'll go to another park.

I pulled out my GPS and looked up parks. I picked a random park and my trusty GPS guided me there....to a little patch of grass the size of my half bathroom on a dead end in a random neighborhood. Sweet! By this time he was done with being in the car, and I was done with him being done being in the car. After over an hour of driving, it was just time for us to head home.

So back home we go. Another few dollars to get us home on the toll road, we arrived at home just in time for lunch.

"APRIL FOOLS!" I said! I totally tricked him. He totally thought we were going to the park!

Or was it the universe playing an April Fools Day joke on me!?

oy!

Our house is always just one big mess. Little JT tries to keep it cleaned, but I just follow behind him making a mess of what he cleans up.

I'll be honest, it stresses me out that people think I should have baby #2 on the way by now. I

feel like as great as it is to be a mom, I'm barely surviving with the one I've got. How will I ever handle 2? No really, how will I? (And since we are on the topic, who came up with the 18 months to 2 years age difference for kids?!)