Mama-me-time

Being a mom can be incredibly frustrating at times. Now, now...don't misinterpret my words. I do so love being a mom. Better yet, I love being a stay-at-home mom. It's rewarding in many ways on many days. Then you have a day from H-E-double hockey sticks, and realize how incredibly hard it can be at times. These type of days are the ones where it is imperative that you have mama-me-time. If this...well, sort of word...had a definition, I believe it would be as follows:

Mama-me-time [mah-muh-mee-tahym] : The time allotted for any mother during a day to unwind and otherwise relax for the soul purpose of keeping one's sanity in check. (i.e.: Reading, watching movies, random hobbies.)


Now, of course, the only way to fully appreciate mama-me-time is to remember that in order for it to really count as personal time, the time must be spent doing something completely, totally and without a doubt, selfish. And by selfish, I mean you really have to enjoy it. If you are watching a movie, you can't fold laundry at the same time. Put the laundry down and grab a box of chocolates in it's place. If you are reading a book, you can't be expected to prepare tomorrows dinner in the middle of a good chapter, so grab a twinkie and mug of hot cocoa instead. I've just recently realized that a lack of mama-me-time made me a very agitated mommy/wife/homemaker/superhero. (You choose the right word for you.) So each night, I make it a point to do something totally and completely selfish. As soon as the kids hit the sack, I actually look forward to sittin' back and doing something for me. I've come to understand, that when you become a mom, you can easily forget other parts of who you were prior to children. Don't get me wrong again, I don't long for my old life before Alex and Abby. In fact, my life wouldn't be complete without them. But before they came along, I was an obsessive nerd hell-bent on collecting as many cheaply-made-miniature-busts of movie characters and cheezy posters while watching the movie for the hundredth time just so I could break my last record and beat my brother-in-law at Star Wars Trivial Pursuit. Say that ten times fast. So I tuned back in to my geekier side and have been watching my movies, reading my books, and enjoying my alone time every night now for well over a month. Josh says he has noticed a change in my attitude because of it. I enjoy it. And I think my family enjoys the happier person I've become. I thought for awhile that I had to say goodbye to my old friends; Luke Skywalker, Frodo Baggins, Harry Potter and Jack Sparrow. I am happy to say that all of my old friends are now back in my life and I've even added a couple of new ones, Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. So if you you're a mom and haven't given in to your guilty pleasures. I shall just say this: Ahhh...Mama-me-time...tis a grand and beautiful thing.

Let me introduce you to...

My good 'friends'...see anyone you want me to introduce you to? A Jedi, a Hobbit, a Wizard, a Pirate, and a Vampire...hmmm...I keep good company...he he he

Evelyn Belle's Birth Story

Evelyn Belle

It's difficult to believe that just a little over one week ago, I was sitting here with a giant pregnant belly with one little baby growing inside of me. Today I sit here with a tiny bundle of joy sleeping soundly next to me. How awesome is that, I ask you? I have spent the last week counting my blessings and am so happy to be the proud mama of now three beautiful children. My sweet new baby's introduction into this world began last Sunday morning...

Around 36 weeks pregnant, my doc informed me that she'd be shocked if I made it to my due date so I began rushing around like a mad crazy fool in hopes of at least getting one more shopping trip in for food. 37 weeks came...then 38...39...and my wee one still, much to my docs surprise, did not grace us with her presence. By November 17th, I had but one last thing that I'd hoped to do before I became a mama again. I wanted to go see the last Twilight movie with Mandy. I believe now that I willed my body to not go into labor until I was ready because the morning after we went to the movie is when the craziness began.

I woke up Sunday November 18th around 5:00. I don't know why, but something just made me wake up and think, "This day is going to be different." I fed the cats, had my 10th pee break, and went back to bed. At 6:20 I woke up to what I thought was something trickling out of me. I laid there on my side for a couple of minutes and then I felt something else. My first real contraction. Ouch. Nothing like the hundreds of Braxton Hicks I'd been getting forever. I thought, "Wow...that kinda hurt...I wonder what will happen if I stand up." So I did and gush! It was official. My water broke. I woke Josh up and called a few people to let them know it was time. My awesome mom came to be with the kids and off to the hospital we went with a towel between my legs.

The contractions started off pretty painful. Nothing I couldn't handle, but still...ouch. When we got to the birthing center they checked me and I was 3 cm dilated. I had decided that I wanted to go epidural free this time around as the last two times, it just didn't work out for me. Quite frankly, I was afraid of something else going wrong with the third epidural. After a couple of hours of contractions they checked me again and there was no progression. They decided that I needed pitocin to help my contractions along. Boy howdy, did that suck. The contractions had been 3 minutes apart from the beginning and very painful for some reason and the blasted drugs didn't make it better. Seven hours went by with still no progression on the cervix but something else was wrong. I looked at the monitor and the baby's heart rate dropped into the low 50's during a contraction and fought to get back up to normal. Not good. I called the nurse in and they started watching things closely and called the doctor. The baby wasn't tolerating the contractions well. Something was definitely wrong. They stopped the pitocin and put me on oxygen in hopes of getting the heart rate back up and steady. Eight hours in to labor and I still had no progression. The baby's head was facing the wrong way and made it so that my cervix wasn't being pushed on correctly and causing the horrendous back labor. At times I was having five minute long contractions and the baby was going without oxygen for far too long. The pain never stopped even between contractions and they had to put in internal monitors in hopes of getting the best read possible for heart rate and contractions. As badly as I was trying, the pain beat me and I said I'd try the epidural. This is when things went downhill fast.

I was scared of getting another wet tap with my epidural so my awesome husband and our amazing nurse held me down tight so I wouldn't jump and mess it up again. (this happened with Abby's birth.) It worked and I was dissappointed in myself for not making it. But this was the least of my worries now. It was purely by God's grace that I got that epidural when I did. They were watching the monitors like hawks and the baby's heart was still not responding well to the contractions. Within 45 minutes, just as the epidural was taking full effect, I called my Mom and Aunt Rita. I was still on the phone when the room began to buzz. The heart rate plummeted into the low 40's. The phone was ripped out of my hands and suddenly I was aware that things were about to get serious. I heard the word "c-section". I was terrified. The room was spinning and I was being wheeled out leaving Josh behind me. People were scurrying in every direction and I couldn't focus. Lucky for me, I also had some great family there who said just the right things at the right time to ease my panic...even if it was only slightly and for a short time. (If you read this, thanks again Ben and Heather.)

They took me to the operating room and started to prep me for an emergency c-section. As they wheeled me down the hall, I couldn't stop being more terrified than I'd ever been before. The doctor was explaining the risks of major abdominal surgery as they wheeled me away without Josh by my side. When he said, "I have to tell you that with major emergency surgery, there is a risk of death." Talk about something you don't expect to hear. From here, I don't remember many specifics. They had me on that table so incredibly fast. It was amazing how fast they can assemble 12 people in a room for something like this. I kept asking where Josh was and finally I heard him beside me. He was scrubbed in and finally by my side holding my hand. Like I said before, I don't remember too many specifics, but there are a few things I do remember clearly. The look of fear on Josh's face as they put the curtain up. He was scared and I've never seen him like that before. Scared for me...scared for the baby. I remember sickly pressure and pulling and asking over and over again what was happening and if we were okay. I remember them saying that they found the problem and that the cord was wrapped around the baby's neck which was why she wasn't tolerating labor. And then I remember hearing her crying through the drug and adrenaline haze. I remember looking over to see my baby and Josh holding her for the first time. And I remember hearing the time old announcement of what my baby was. "It's a girl!" Evelyn Belle was welcomed into this world at 3:14 p.m. on November 18th, 2012. She was 8 lbs 5 oz and 19 3/4 inches long. And she was so beautiful and precious. Even through the drugs, I was in love.

I must admit I was a little surprised that she was a girl. Everyone said I was having a boy, but regardless of that fact, I didn't mind one bit what the baby was. I just wanted it to be healthy. From the moment they wheeled me into the OR till the time she was born all happened in mere minutes. It was the most frightening experiences I've had. The nurse told me later that asking for the epidural when I did could not have been more perfect on the timing. Had I asked for one much later and Josh wouldn't have been able to be with me because I would have been put to sleep. And she also told me that the situation was pretty serious. Had I been a home birth or not in the hospital for care, we would have lost our baby and I would have likely died as well. Scary things to hear, but a relief and a blessing that we have hospitals with the ability to assemble an emergency crew in mere minutes.

Evie (pronounced ee-vee...long E...not short E) did wonderfully. She scored high on her Apgar and is a super healthy (and hungry) little girl. She had a few problems with spitting up for 24 hours due to not getting the "big squeeze" from a normal birth, but other than that, it's been wonderful. She is named after both of my grandmas. Evelyn from my Granny and Belle from my Grandma. As for me, I was healing and getting along so well much to the surprise of the nurses and my doc, that they even released me after 48 hours instead of 96 which is the norm for a c-section birth. I won't lie though. The whole healing from major abdominal surgery thing kind of sucks as I have zero feeling in my stomach skin and zero muscles to sit up with. Oh...and the pain thing stinks too. Each one of my kid's birth stories is unique and somewhat abnormal for as far as births go. But it's been worth each and every nanosecond of pain and healing. Evie is our third beautiful blessing from God and I'm thankful for more today than I was the day before. Welcome to the world and welcome home sweet Evelyn Belle. We love you with all our hearts!

40 weeks...or rather 2 days away from 40 weeks.

Getting ready to leave for the hospital. One last shot with just two kids.

Thanks to our awesome nurse, when we had no time to bring a camera, she took Evie's first picture right after birth. Thanks nurse Donna!

Alex and Abby meeting their new sister for the first time.

With mama right after being sewed up.

Thanks again to our nurse for the pictures she e-mailed us.

Abby is smitten and she always calls her Evelyn Belle. Too cute.

Alex loves being big brother round two.

At home with big sister and daddy.

Sweet Evie on her birthday.

Home at last! Welcome home sweetheart!

 More pictures to come soon!

Penny

May 22nd 2006, four tiny kittens were born in my parents' barn to a very sick mama kitty. This mama kitty had had several litters of kittens. None of them survived much past the first year. Coyotes, cars, and illness always took their lives before they could even get started. Mama kitty was thin. She was struggling with her own life, but managed to care for her new litter of wee ones to the best of her ability. She was a good mama.

Right around this time, Josh and I moved in with my folks until we could find a place to buy of our own. Until then, I was back home and enjoying the country life while pregnant with Alex. I never thought that Mama kitty's and my own life would be intertwined.

One day, I came home from work in the pouring rain. There in the middle of the driveway was a tiny, helpless black kitten, struggling to move. When I reached it, I knew it was hopeless. It was dying. Mama kitty had been trying to move them and this little one got left behind. At just a few weeks old, I did all I could to save it, but it wasn't meant to be. I searched the barn and found the other three tabby kittens. They were covered in fleas, eyes matted closed, and snot pouring from their noses. Mama kitty was nursing them, but she wasn't moving much. She looked hopeless. I had a moment with her and struggled with what to do. She was so thin and looked as though she was pouring her very last bit of life into those three sick kittens who had almost no hope of living. I made a rash choice. I took them inside and bottle fed them in hopes to give them something extra while their mama struggled. The next day, Mama kitty died.

Three tiny, sickly kittens now were going to die if I didn't intervene. Being pregnant, my hormones were raging lunatics and I decided to do all in my power to save the orphaned kittens. And so began a journey that changed us forever.

Those three little kittens had spunk. They may have been deathly ill, but they did their best to not show it. I took them to the vet and she helped me as many ways as she could to get them better. I bathed them, the water dark brown from flea dirt and blood. I cleaned their eyes, wiped their bottoms like a mama cat so they could potty, and gave them medicine and bottles of milk every two hours. They started to get better, but it was a long, hard road and many months of medicine. We named them Logan, Jasmine and Penny. They stole our hearts. My mom told me to stick them back out in the barn where they belong because Josh and I already had two cats that were a year old - Luke and Leia. She couldn't fathom us having five cats inside. Boy, was she ever wrong.

Penny was the runt of the litter. She struggled the hardest to get better and her left eye never did improve. One day, as I was gently cleaning it, her eye popped right out and flew across the room. Needless to say, I was devastated. I scooped the eye up and took her to the vet. At barely a month old, she went in for surgery to have her eye socket cleaned out and sewed shut. It was risky for her age, but she made it. It took ages to heal and finally one day, she was better. She used to curl up on our chest and purr so loud it felt unreal. Josh and I were hooked. They were ours forever. They were family.

The vet told us that in all rights, those kittens shouldn't have survived. But I truly believe that God sent them to us, just like he sends so many pets our way to love. And those pets love us back. We were warned that they might not live as long as other cats because of such a rocky start to life and poor history with their mama. Logan has diabetes, Jasmine has some sort of horrible bowel disorder, and Penny...well...she never had any other problems. Ten years later, we thought they'd live forever.

Four months ago, Penny began to vomit blood. It was frightening and seeing as how she never vomited, I was scared. I rushed her in and they did a blood panel only to find out that she was hyperthyroid. The vet said it was very common in old cats. Old? She's old?! That came as a shock to me. When did our babies get old? Hyperthyroidism can be controlled with pills but it only extends their life. It could be months. It could be years. Every cat responds differently. I told the vet that her sister Jasmine has vomited every day for years and lost tons of weight. Turns out she had it too.

It was rocky. The meds made her sick to her stomach and we finally (via a friend who's a vet) learned to giver her Pepcid before her meds. It worked! She was back to normal. But then...that's when it started to go bad. She got sick. She had a high fever and was lethargic. A shot of steroids, B12, and a round of antibiotics later, and she was right as rain. Two weeks later she got the same thing. Back to the vet and another drug cocktail later and she was great again. It went on like this four times. Each time, it seemed to be little less serious and I was hopeful - until two weeks ago. She got sick so we started her on meds. This time, it wasn't getting better like before. I took her to the vet yet again and she said that she needed some extra steroids to kickstart her system. She ate well for one day and then the next it was a struggle. This past Saturday, I noticed that she was looking frail. She was trying to eat, but the food kept falling out of her mouth. She acted normal - always meowing and purring. She went to bed with Abby, just like every night, because she chose Abby as her special own human. That night, I said good night to her and she meowed and purred. Sunday morning, Josh woke me up and said that he Penny wasn't moving and that the other cats were hissing at her.

Oh please, God. Not now. That's all I could think.

I rushed her into the emergency vet, a place I'd never been before. Before I left, I woke the kids and through never ending streams of tears, told them that I didn't think Penny was going to make it this time. I watched Abby break into a million pieces that morning. We took pictures, we loved on her, we told her we loved her and we pet her, but she was in so much pain that she couldn't lift her body off the floor.

When the vet came out they rushed her back to get her on oxygen and start a port in her leg for meds. She was critical with very little hope. They told me that they could treat her aggressively and try, but it would cost thousands of dollars and she was so critical that it would probably not work, only causing her to suffer longer. A part of me died when I signed the paper to put her to sleep. I went into the room and they brought her to me. In just the fifteen minutes since we'd arrived, she had gotten worse. She was crying out through painful breaths and couldn't lift her head. I held her paws and kissed her head - rubbing that empty missing eye socket like she always loved. They gave her sedation, so she would fall asleep first, no longer hurting. Then one more syringe and she was gone in seconds.

We buried her as a family at my mom's house. The kids pet her one last time. One last kiss. One last moment. One last goodbye. We wrapped her in a Christmas blanket and prayed over the grave. There wasn't a dry eye there. She was, and always will be, our sweet Penny. Never forgotten - always loved.

Some people don't believe that pets go to heaven when they die. When I became saved 15 years ago, there was a brief moment when I wondered as well. But in a blink of an eye, I knew they were wrong. Some say that animals don't have souls. I don't believe that either. Every single time one of my amazing animals has left this world, they leave me behind a changed person. The pain is almost unbearable when you say goodbye. And I've done it so often that it's hard to believe I'm not used to it.

I know that God takes them home. Maybe they don't have a soul exactly like we do. But that's only because as we care for them and love them, they take a small piece of our own souls for their own. And when they die, we are forever changed. We wonder why it hurts our hearts so badly when they leave. How could it not hurt? They take a piece of our souls with them when they go. And they sit there in Heaven with God, waiting. When we die, and join them, our souls will be whole again. They are a part of us, just as we are a part of them. When they die, we don't just feel broken. We are broken. That's what it is to love them.

And Penny...sweet Penny...she didn't just take a piece of my soul. She took a piece of Abby's, Alex's, Evie's, and Josh's. We loved her and always will. We are broken without her. But she is and always will be what God intended - a perfect blessing.

Rest in peace sweet Penny. We'll love you always. Until we meet again.

Baby Penny - just after her eye surgery.

Penny this year on Abby's bed where she loved the most.

One Hug

I don't understand how school can change a mom's life so dramatically and do so at a speed so incredibly unfathomable by my brain. I knew this past summer would be the end of an era with the kiddos and the beginning of a new one. I just didn't realize how much it really did change...until today.

Life has been hectic to say the very least. What with being a mere 10 or so days from having a baby, being a room mom, two kids in different schools, and life in general, I've been busy almost every single day. Each day after dropping Alex off at school in the morning, my days simply run me raw. It's been go, go, go for weeks now and since Alex's confidence with his food allergies at school, I've let life get away from me in a way. Those few weeks when I met Alex at school for lunch were precious to me. It was harder for me to let it go than it was for him by far. But I did it. I moved on and started even scheduling my doctor appointments in that time frame. But for the past two weeks, Alex has been asking me each day if I could meet him for lunch. I've become so swamped during the days that I tell him the same thing each time. "I can't bud. I'm really busy today."

Today, theoretically of course, I was actually going to be home and could meet him. So when the kid asked me to eat lunch with him, I said I'd do my best to get there. Naturally, something came up. Last night I started to make my way to the E.R. for what I thought was a blood pressure issue. (I'm fine...false alarm.) My doc wanted me to come in at 10:15 for a quick blood pressure/fetal heart rate check and as they are only open until noon, I had to go. It's a good 45 minute trip there and I realized that it would be really hard to get back for lunch at 11:00 for Alex. For the first time in awhile, I floated up out of my body and realized that I could not, under any circumstance, miss my lunch date with my six year old boy entirely. I kept picturing that little face wrecked with disappointment when I failed to walk through those lunchroom doors today. And you know what? I hauled butt home just in time to catch him at his last five minutes of lunch. The look of joy on that little boy's face when I went into that lunchroom was pure happiness in it's most raw form. He jumped up and gave me a hug that I swear to this day, I've never experienced before. It was a hug that meant something more than just 'hello' or 'love ya mom'. It was a hug from a child who missed his mama. He gave me countless hugs after that and his big brown eyes were glassed over from little tears he dared not spilled in front of the world. And by golly, I could feel my own eyes stinging at the corners. I promised him that tonight we'd go out and look at the stars and find constellations together after Abby went to sleep and that's just what we did. Then we came in, read a book together and you could see the joy in his face. The one that say's "It's just me and mom". And it felt good.

I've decided not to let life get so hectic that I forget to spend time with the kids. Not just the typical routine days, but time. Honest to goodness time. Their eyes won't always go alight when they see you walk into a room. That one hug was a wake up call to me. I'll never forget it. It may have been the last five minutes of lunch, but it meant the world to him. I found out that he'd gotten to lunch late because he'd gotten lost and locked out of the lunchroom. It couldn't have been more perfect of a day to be there for him. I'm done rushing. It's time to slow down and enjoy the moments that I could have missed so easily. I could have missed that one hug. Thank God I didn't.

1 Month Old

1 month old

The first month with Evie has positively flown by! I can't believe how much she's already changed in that small amount of time. She's a great baby and I am truly blessed. Here are some of the things going on with miss Evelyn Belle.

Sleep - This girl is the polar opposite of Alex and Abby. She is a great sleeper! Right from the first days at home, she started sleeping four to five hours at a time during the night. At first it scared the poop out of me. I was so accustomed to the waking every hour and a half with the first two babies. So when she sleeps long like that I still find myself sitting bolt upright in bed like a bed bug bit my butt. I'm getting used to it slowly, but it's still strange new territory for me to explore.

Smiles - She's officially smiling! It's so adorable. But true to form, she is mostly smiling at a wall. I know that seems a bit random to read, but the same thing happened with her bro and sis. For some unknown reason, when lying on the changing table, she will stare at the wall and just smile as big as she can. And it's only that one wall. She has a favorite wall. How odd is that? Don't get me wrong though, she's smilin' at mama too. The best time to get a smile is to give her to dad for awhile and then when I walk up to her and start gooing and gagaing at her, she just grins like mad. I love it!

Cooing - It's not just spit-up and screaming shooting out of Evie's mouth these days. She's starting to coo. The other new vocalization is more entertaining. Well...entertaining to me. Not so much to Josh. When Josh holds her and she starts screaming, it's the kind of screaming that Josh swears would be efficient as a useful form of torture to your enemy. It's angry to the max. When I go to relieve poor Josh from the woes of his screaming child, she immediately, through her crocodile tears, tells me about her horrible story. She still cries a bit, but it's more of a wispy cry that comes between the sudden wide-mouthed yell that isn't really mad, but rather a matter-of-fact statement spoken only the way a one month old can convey. I believe she's telling me about how angry she was that I wasn't holding her at that present time and how terrible it was. :) A mama's girl already.

Spoiled - No sense in denying it. Evie is spoiled. Well, they say you can't spoil a baby and that's probably true. But she get's held a lot. And she gets to take naps in someone's arms more than she should. She spent the first three or four days sleeping non-stop with me on the couch due to the c-section. I couldn't sleep on my bed so she stayed with me on the couch. Shhh...don't tell anyone. I know that was very naughty of me. :)

Thumb - She is desperately trying to suck her thumb. And guess what? She got it today. And she sucked it for a good long time too very contentedly.

Tummy-time - She doesn't get as much tummy time as the other two did, but she does great with it. She holds her head like a pro and can roll on to her side when on her back. She'd better get movin' with the rolling though if she wants to keep up with brother and sister. They rolled at one and one and a half months old. But no rush miss Evie. I'm patient.

It's Potter Time!

This Saturday, I will finally be able to view the long awaited and highly anticipated Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Woo-hoo! Not only will I be enjoying the wonderfulness that is Harry Potter, but I will be getting my daily recommended dose of Mama-me-time. Ahhh...getting out of the house is so wonderful. But now that I have come to enjoy my out-of-the-house-away-from-the-kids-time, I think that I would not appreciate it as much if I were to do this too often. Nevertheless, it is fun to get out and spend some quality time with the hubby. I think it will be healthier for us in the end.

So Harry Potter time has come (finally...sheesh). The money-hungry movie studios decided to push the movie back so that they could enjoy the monetary benefits of a summer blockbuster. Annoying...yes. I mean, come on! The movie has been done since last year! Oh well...it'll be fun to watch even if it is almost a year later than anticipated. I'll be sure to let you all know how wonderful the movie is come Saturday. The next movie I am wanting to head to the theater to watch won't be coming until November. (see Mama Monkey's Movie Countdown on the sidebar
---->) But to fill the long time between this weekend and that faraway date, I will be going to see Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen once more. If truth be told, I'm actually more excited to see that a second time than I am to see Harry Potter. Why? I don't know. Cuz I'm a total geek, I guess. Unfortunately, Josh will be dragged with me. He isn't thrilled, but he'll deal. :-) Anyhoodle...In case I don't blog before Saturday, I hope everyone has a magical weekend. I know I will!

When you need your mama

My poor kids. They've been hit so bad with this blasted stomach bug and it's just taken a toll on them. They still don't want to eat much and poor Abby chucked again today after playing too hard. I called the doctor and it turns out that it's quite normal to have once a day puking for up to a week. It just breaks my heart when they don't understand why this is happening to them. They can't go anywhere. Play-dates are out of course. We have an invisible bio-hazard sign on our door. Heck. Even my mom is avoiding us like the plague. She dropped off two dozen of farm eggs the other day and dropped them at the door and ran away holding her breath. I can't blame anyone. No one needs this yuck in their systems. So with zero outside time and never leaving the home, Alex and Abby are constantly on the verge of brutally beating one another. Alright. They are two and four so that might be a bit exaggerated. But here's the deal, the whiner they get, the more they seem to need one thing. Me. Let me start by saying that at moments, I feel like I won't even get the chance to pull my hair out because it will have given up on me and fallen out all on its own. Cleaning up vomit daily seems to wear thin on a person. I've been chucked on three times now. Three! That's three more times than I prefer. So when they both are crying at my ankles, I have a difficult time not disappearing into solitude while laughing hysterically and twitching uncontrollably.

Let me paint you a picture. Abby in full melt down mode after feeling a bit queasy is dripping tears and snot down her chapped cheeks and sucking on her calloused thumb while screaming for mommy and only mommy. Josh has generously given Alex a bath while I try to calm Abby down. But then poor Alex falls down in the tub and busts his knee after quite possibly inhaling soapy water on a day where he wants nothing more than to go visit Grandma and Grandpa but can't understand why we can't at the moment. He, too, is now working his tear ducts to the full limit and snot is dripping out of his nose at an uncontrollable rate. Oh, and did I mention he refused to get dressed after the bath so is obviously butt-naked? Guess who he wants? Mama. As I sit there holding my two crying children on my lap (one still naked), I realized something. The reason they are crying isn't because of the craziness of cabin fever. It's because they've felt my stress and are now mirroring it. I finally convinced Alex to get dressed. I took them both into my bedroom, pulled them up onto my lap with their blankets, sang to them like I always used to so long ago, and rocked them. As they quietly sat in my lap with their warm little heads on my chest and their sweet little faces grinning up at me, I couldn't help but smile. Alex whispered to me in a tired voice how he remembered when I always used to rock him to sleep and sing him songs. Abby grinned through the thumb in her mouth and asked for the same exact songs I used to hum on a nightly basis while rocking them. As annoyed with them and as frustrated I get with motherhood, I tell you this. I didn't want to get up when they fell asleep there on that creaky, old rocking chair. For the first time in a while, I felt good.

Tomorrow is a new day. No impatience. No rubbing my temples. No screaming in my head. Tomorrow is going to be a better day. Because I think my kids are trying to tell me something. Sometimes...you just need your mama.

Taking Applications for Hero Position: Apply Within

Well heckfire! I have this grand plan for this third birth. Due to my past birthing experiences, I decided that this time around I would try something completely different. For the first two births I went as far as I could with labor pain and pansied up eventually both times by opting for the epidural. Alex was, by far, my most difficult birth of the two. 30 hours of labor, a fourth degree tear, forcep assisted delivery, and an epidural that never really fully worked. The epidural took the edge off the pain, but by pushing time, I thought I'd die. I even passed out for a brief second. Abby was significantly less time for labor, but the anesthesiologist neglected to prewarn me to the ugly electrical zap you get when they get to your spine with the giant needle and whammo! I had a headache I thought would kill me due to a spinal wet tap. Not. Cool. I couldn't turn my head straight for 12 hours and then couldn't lift anything at all for ten days after that. So this time around, my grand plan involves sucking it up and huffing through the pain like they did back in the old days. Good ol' fashioned, bite on a stick, grin and bear it like your mama did kind of birth! Oh yeah!

The plan seemed fail proof because I had a hero to look up to. I was under the impression my mom went epidural free for three of four births. I've thought this...no wait. She led me to believe this by leaving out one minor detail. She got blasted epidurals on every one of us dang kids!! What the hanky spanky?!? How she never mentioned this to me is beyond my knowledge. Here I was, feeling all pathetic and weak because I was sure that my mom (the woman who I truly believe could have her arm hacked off horror movie style and still manage to kick the bad guys butt and stop for coffee on the way to the hospital afterwards) went and gave birth like a female commando on the battlefield. Yesterday, I was telling my dearest mother how I have zero clue how to breathe properly and do all those birthing techniques but that "Heck! It can't be so bad. I mean, you did it three times so I can do it once, right?" That's when she dropped the bomb on me. At my most fragile moment of preparing myself mentally for a natural birth, she said in a somewhat shyish voice, "I didn't go natural. I got the epidural on all four of you kids."

I peed myself slightly while my mouth was gaping in shock.

So here I sit. Hero-less, 10 weeks from giving birth, and newly terrified for the horrific pain and suffering I am about to impose on myself. 

Crap.

I am still going to plan on the zero epidural technique as my doc says it might be for the best. I've had lots of doctors and dentists tell me that my nerve pattern is not "normal" which is why the epidurals don't work the way they are supposed to and why dentists can't numb my mouth properly. Plus, I'm not sure I can take the fear of what could go wrong with a third one. They say wet taps are very, very rare. So rare, in fact, that they were shocked that it happened to me at all. Go figure. So if you're an awesome hero woman who gave birth with zero pain meds, zero gas, and zero blocks...let me know. I'm looking for someone to fill the position of 'birthing idol'...and time is growing thin.

Easter Weekend

This weekend, we decided to go visit Josh's folks. Josh's brother, Ben, and his family got to visit as well. Our original reason for going was for a birthday party. This was not your every day birthday party either. Josh's great Aunt Pearl turned 100 years old. Holy cow! I still can't wrap my mind around that. It must be an amazing thing to live for a century. Can you imagine the things she has seen, done and experienced? And what's even more amazing is that she looked like she was maybe in her 80's. She was walking around with the best of us. Impressive stuff, I tell ya. Well, that was Saturday and it was a nice thing to experience.

I suppose I should admit my fault for the weekend. Bad blogger mama didn't take any photos. Okay, okay...I took two this morning before we left but they are worthless because it was at a restaurant and nobody wanted to have their picture taken. So I hope you don't mind a total text blog for the time being. I did, however manage to get my camera charged when we got home today so I could take some pictures of the kids Easter egg coloring and hunting. But to be perfectly honest, I had such a wonderful time this weekend that the last thing on my mind was taking pictures. That's got to count for something, right? We got to spend time with Josh's grandparents and then the majority of the time we just lounged around the house and spent some quality time together. It was extra nice to have my sister-in-law, Heather, there for the weekend as well. She normally works on weekends so I never get to see her much when we travel. Lucky for me (but not for her :-) she broke her wrist and can't work. So she was forced to spend some time with me. She's a physical therapist and needs both hands for the job. We were both really close when we lived in the same town, but since moving in separate directions I don't hear from her as often. When I get to spend time with her, I remember how much I miss having her around. (Seriously Heather...sorry you broke your wrist. Totally sucks.)

Alex and Abby were thrilled to be there after the initial warming-up process. Alex absolutely adores spending time with Ben and Heather's girls. He's pretty excited about Uncle Ben too. And as usual, being with Grandma and Grandpa is pretty darn cool to him. Abby, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about yet. She has a little bubble she keeps handy when around people she isn't entirely used to. But she warmed up by the end of the weekend. Actually, Alex was so devastated when the girls left in their van and we left in ours that I had to do some pretty heavy comforting. When I told him that the girls were going to their home and us to ours, he said, "But I want to with Uncle Ben in their van and go home with Lauren and Linsey and Kate!" Broke my heart, I tell ya. Broke my heart. So I made him a promise that I hope to keep. I promised him we would start making a better effort to go and visit them more often. (If they'll have us.) That calmed him down a bit so get the spare bedroom ready guys. I think we'll be planning a trip in the near future. It made me realize that when I was little, I loved spending time with my many cousins. So naturally, why wouldn't my kids?

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend. I'll do an actual Easter posting tomorrow when the hubby lets me use his computer to get pictures up. In the end, I just want to say thank you to all my in-laws for an extremely enjoyable weekend. I am truly blessed to have married into such a great family. I hope you all had a wonderful weekend as well! Stay tuned for the Easter egg extravaganza tomorrow...

Little Fish

I finally broke down, or perhaps the term should be grew a spine, and got my kids enrolled in swim lessons. Last year I took them to the local pool and we basically ended up sitting in the wade pool the entire time. It was fun for the kids, but I was a nervous mama watching two kids in the water. I am not exactly the best swimmer. I can stay afloat so therefore am capable of not dying if dropped in the ocean. But I'm no Olympian, that's for sure. Josh, on the other hand, is a fish in water. Apparently he and his brother were very much water kids growing up so Josh is always telling me that our kids will be good swimmers. So after much deliberation on where and when to sign up for swim lessons, I ended up deciding that the swim lesson program at the YMCA was our best option. And boy howdy! Am I ever glad I did this!

Alex and Abby ended up in the same class. It was a two week course where they go four days a week for 45 minutes. Each instructor got 4 or 5 kids and it was off to the deep end they went. The first day I was fairly nervous. I walked them over to the teacher at the deeper end of the pool (four feet or so...no feet touching the bottom) and she told them both to hop on in. They spent the first couple of days clinging on to the side of the pool for dear life but slowly they began to trust their water instincts more and more. By the end of week one, they were both putting their heads under water (Alex more so than Abby). Abby may have been a little leery of the full under water dunk but she took to the doggy-paddle like a little pro! The teacher was super nice and really awesome with the kids and she was even surprised at how fast miss Abby could go in the water. She sped right past her brother.

By the end of the second week it was all the instructor could do to keep the their heads above water...in a good way. Not the drowning type of way. Two weeks of swim lessons and lo and behold! I have two little fish. They are by no means drown-proof as they still need more instruction. But they can float on  their backs, go under water for good chunks of time, doggie paddle fairly well without flotation and really well with flotation, and have a great deal more respect for water (and also are somewhat scarily fearless of it now). The teacher talked to me at the end and said that Abby and Alex were easily the most improved in the class so I'm a proud mama. We then joked about how her class was the craziest and how out of four kids, there was usually only one head above water at a time. So I'm not going to be dunking them in the deep end without an adult and they still need floatation stuff for safety, but I couldn't be more proud of the little ones. Turns out Josh was right. They're gonna be fish in the water.

Here is a video of what the kids are like post-swimming lessons. They are begging me for a bigger pool. The water was too cold so Abby didn't want to go under. 

 

 

Getting ready to jump in at swim lessons.

Alex lovin' the deep end.

Abby also lovin' the deep end.

Alex's normal position in the small pool.

By the end of the second week it was all the instructor could do to keep the their heads above water...in a good way. Not the drowning type of way. Two weeks of swim lessons and lo and behold! I have two little fish. They are by no means drown-proof as they still need more instruction. But they can float on  their backs, go under water for good chunks of time, doggie paddle fairly well without flotation and really well with flotation, and have a great deal more respect for water (and also are somewhat scarily fearless of it now). The teacher talked to me at the end and said that Abby and Alex were easily the most improved in the class so I'm a proud mama. We then joked about how her class was the craziest and how out of four kids, there was usually only one head above water at a time. So I'm not going to be dunking them in the deep end without an adult and they still need floatation stuff for safety, but I couldn't be more proud of the little ones. Turns out Josh was right. They're gonna be fish in the water.

Catching Up with Pictures

I keep telling myself, over and over and over, that I will make time to post on here. Each day that goes by, there is yet another thing that I think to myself, "Hey! I need to blog about that!" But alas, at the end of the day, it just doesn't go onto my 'high priority' list. Basically it comes down to the fact that when Evie goes to sleep, I dare not disturb her by clickety-clacketing away on my keyboard in the bedroom. My back doesn't agree with couch computer time all that much so I just shrug it off until another day. I figure at the very least, I can sum up half of what has been going on around here in pictures. 

So much seems to be happening here. One of the biggest things is epic in the eyes of a kid. Alex lost his first teeth! Yes. Teeth. Multiple. His bottom two front teeth were loose. At the end of said teeth's life, they were looking very snaggle-toothesque. One worse than the other. And like his mom, those big boy teeth were already pushing through. We had to take Abby to the dentist for a cracked filling and the dentist peeked at Alex's teeth and said they needed to go. They put some numbing gel on the gums and approximately three seconds later, both teeth were out. One even bounced across the room. I was glad to see them go and Alex was super pumped to get his very first visit from the tooth fairy. She/he left him $1.50 per tooth and a little note. Now he's pumped to get the next teeth out. Hopefully without the aid of the dentist.

Smitten sisters. Yep. That's my girls. Alex loves Evie too, but Abby is smitten. She is constantly trying to make Evie smile and let me tell ya. Evie adores her. They "talk" to each other all the time and I can't go a day without hearing Abby ask me to take a picture of them together. It's super sweet.

 And just for good measure, here's is an adorable picture of little miss Evie. She loves to smile.

We got a surprise visit from my brother. He came back to visit my Granny who was in the hospital. He got to meet Evie for the first time while he was here. It was nice to see him as he moved to California last year and we don't get to see him as much. The kids were happy to see him. They love their Uncle Aaron.

I have been trying my best to do things with the kids that make them realize that I'm not always just focused on Evie. Since she arrived, it's been hard spending so much time with them and sometimes I think they feel rejected a little. I try to break out my crazy mama self and get them to laugh. So crazy frosting mustaches seemed to make their day. Scary how a little frosting on my face makes me look so much like a dude. I look like a pale version of a spanish conquistador. Yikes!

 Me and my new wee one together. I love that little face! Now if only she'd get some hair.

Tummy time rocks if you have two fun siblings to watch. Any other time, tummy time isn't nearly as interesting.

Jasmine

Eleven years ago this past May 22 in 2006, a tiny kitten and her brother and sister were fighting for their lives in the cruel world that is known as the country. Being a barn cat was what they were going to know and all their mama had ever known. But that all changed when their mama died and I took them in. I never thought that I would have seen eleven years with any of them. That's how horribly off they were. My vet is always telling me that those kittens, in all rights, should have died. She said that she doesn't believe anyone would have gotten this far but me. And try, I did.

July 24th of this year, the fight had to end for our beloved Jasmine. From the very beginning of her life, she was a fighter at heart. She was the ruler of our roost and put every single cat in their place. She was the alpha and all who crossed her, knew it. She started out tiny and helpless, but she fought like a tiger until the very end of her life...and I fought right beside her. When we lost Penny a year before this, I was certain that Jasmine would have been the first to leave us. But she proved us all wrong. She was diagnosed with the same condition as her sister - hyperthyroidism. When once upon a time, she was one of the fattest cats in the house, she began to throw up daily for years.Then she began to get bowel issues which made her stinky all the time. We loved her anyways and Josh called her Stinky. Had I known the signs earlier, I would have given her a better chance, but I just couldn't have guessed. She lost weight despite her ravenous appetite and I didn't understand it.

Right after Penny passed, I promised Alex, who was her favorite human (she chose him), that I would do everything in my power to keep her alive and happy. Things got worse for her, but no matter how many times she went downhill, she fought twice as hard to come back. Our vet kept saying, "she may be skinny, but she's super happy and her quality of life is still high." In May, just days before her birthday, I was certain it was her time, but once again, she said no - not yet. At her end, she was being fed up to ten times a day, a special diet I had to mix up each time, and cooked chicken breast for snacks. Medicine consistently and all the accidents she had from her failing bowels, finally were catching up with her. She got down to barely four pounds and was a ghost of her former self and I knew that the trip to the vet that day would not end well. The kids were broken - again. I feel like my kids have a broken heart consistently once a year. It hurts.

In all the times I took Jasmine to the vet, I came back ever the hero with her in my arms and a happy group of kids. This time, even I knew that I couldn't help her further. I started crying the instant our vet walked in the room. I knew...she knew...Jasmine knew. The hardest part was that when I had my moment with her to say goodbye, she began purring and rubbing on me. She had been so sick for the past three days that she barely wanted to walk let alone purr, so this broke my already shattering heart. I think she may have been telling me goodbye. She fell asleep in my arms and I let her go. The vet said it was instantaneous. But the hole she leaves in my heart will take years to mend.

Alex was broken. Abby was broken. Evie was broken. Josh was broken. The queen joined her sister in Heaven and left behind one of the luckiest families in the whole world. We got to be her humans for eleven years and we will miss her always and forever. She also left behind a confused brother who looked for her for weeks. I don't care how much I had to fight for her...I will cherish her always. Rest easy Jasmine baby...we love you always.

That's Jasmine on the far right.

Jasmine again on the far right.

Jasmine and her boy. She loved to lick mayo off his finger every day. He hasn't eaten an egg sandwich since she left us.

Yeah. She always had the wonky eye. I think it gave her character and made her even more special.

Me pregnant with Alex in Jasmine's teenage years. Sweetie.

The old gal loved her special place on the couch.

Bye Bye, Rock-a-bye

A new era has begun in our house. For what seems like forever, I have been rocking kids to sleep. There has always been some form of crutch when it comes to getting my kiddos to sleep. At first, we had the pacifier with Alex and that worked for the most part. Then we moved on to just waiting until he fell asleep in our bed when we went to bed too. (That one was really annoying) Then miss Abby came along. We moved on to utilizing our second-hand rocking chair/recliner to its fullest ability. That chair has been rocked more than most chairs are meant to be rocked. Over the last month, it started to fail as a successful rocking chair. The poor thing doesn't really rock very well these days. However, this is not the reason for my recent change of pattern. You see, rocking two children works...in theory. Don't get me wrong. It is possible. But when one of those kids is nearly three and the other one is embarking on her ornery times, it makes it...well...difficult.

Abby spends the majority of her time in the chair making silly noises while Alex laughs. When they aren't laughing and being utterly silly, they are slapping each other or wiggling around so much that I can't even get a good rocking pattern started. Soooo...last week I said enough is enough! I got up, took them into their beds and said, "Night, night!" They fought it for about half an hour. I sat on Alex's bed and told him that he is a big boy now and that he needs to sleep in his bed like one. I gave them each a couple of books to entertain themselves, kissed them good night, and went to go read on the couch. Now, I am proud to say that they both go to bed like a charm every night and sleep on their own. It has changed my evenings drastically. I have more time to enjoy the quiet mama-me-time I so desperately need at day's end. Alex wakes up nearly every morning since talking about how he slept in his bed like a big boy and Abby has actually started sleeping through the night (mostly). Abby, of course, has never really had a problem going down for her nap by herself, so I knew that she would adjust fairly well. It's strange and new to me to have two happily sleeping children. But I can honestly say that I love it! This must be how all those normal parents feel, eh? Now, if only I could get them to eat their vegetables...

Aaaaahhhhh!!!!

I realize that screaming on a blog title is probably way out of line and could be handled a lot differently. But it's my bloggy and I'll scream if I want to. (In case you missed it, that was a play on the old song 'It's my party and I'll cry if I want to'.) Some people scream into a pillow. I scream into my blog title. And seeing as how I am not actually physically screaming at the moment then it's really just the same thing only a different way of muffling the sound. Anyhow, let's put the joking aside shall we? Why would I be screaming right about now? The correct answer is: Bedtime. To some people, bedtime for their kids is a time to kick back, relax, and take some quiet stree-free time to yourself. For me, it's a time to scream inside my head. If my brain had ears, it would be deaf. Alex and Abby are not great at the whole 'go to bed' thing. It doesn't matter how long you keep them awake or how hard you run them throughout the day. Nothing works. I read a nice quiet book, tell them a story in their beds, tuck them in and kiss them goodnight all in the hopes of having two very relaxed kiddos yawning and eager for much needed sleep. My kids? Yeah. That doesn't seem to work. Bedtime is at 8:30. The time that they finally fall asleep is on average of 9:30 but can near the 11:00 mark a good many nights. I'd like to blame this on sugar, but they didn't have any today. I'd love to blame this on over-stimulation but it's winter and that definitely isn't the problem. So I guess I'll just assume that my kids don't need the required amount of sleep necessary for two kids their age. I'm fairly certain that I lose my sanity somewhere between the jumping out of bed and running a amok through their rooms and the choruses of 'Mama, I'm not tired!' and 'Mama, I'm need a drink of water!' I try to ignore it by taking a shower, but 97.6% of the time, my shower is interrupted by one of them opening the door to ask me the inevitable question, 'Mama, are you taking a shower?' Which, this of course is answered by me screaming, 'Yes! Now get back in bed or you're gonna be in trouble!" Naturally, this threat is taken quite lightly as they are fully aware that chances are slim that I will instantly jump out of my shower and fulfill said threat. Alex's bed is one inch (literally) away from the bathroom door so you can see my dilemma here. The genius that designed the Hollywood bathroom obviously didn't have children. *sigh* I suppose that this is the way my evenings will continue for now. I think I'm gonna have to buy a pillow specifically designated for screaming into. It might be a tad more effective than a virtual scream.

Third Time's a Charm...right?

As the old adage goes: The third time's a charm. I suppose that in many cases this is true so I can only hope that there is some good in our recent 'third time' event. Perhaps this will surprise you more than it surprised me. Once again...Josh has lost his job. He was laid off on Friday. Again. Upon receiving his phone call at an unusually early hour in the day, I was less than surprised by his news. He said that he'd gotten the news around 9:00 in the morning that he got the ol' heave ho. After the first two lay-offs, I believe that the news will no longer surprise me. And here I was thinking that the economy was supposedly getting 'better'. Either I was badly mistaken or we are having an abnormally long strain of bad luck. Since Josh's first lay-off from his three year job, I have become skeptical at best as to whether he will ever keep a job for a lengthy period of time. I do suppose that things happen for a reason. If you follow the blog, then you will know that we were hoping to find a more spacious house to move into since Josh's job was starting to look more permanent. If not a house, then a storm shelter to help us through tornado season. Nothing came up and the storm shelter fell through which made me a very unhappy mama. The one thing that really drives me nuts is knowing that Josh will be on the bench for an undetermined period of time. It's not the lack of work that bothers me as much as not knowing what kind of hope there is for getting a job. Looks like we better get used to unemployment. I feel another month of waiting around the corner. Hopefully I won't go into a massive depression and gain my 11 lost pounds back. (Jjust kidding)

Past Week News

Wow. Does anyone else feel like last week was just crazy? I'll tell you what. This whole school thing has changed my life entirely. Monday morning starts off crazy from the second I step out of bed. And then once my feet hit the floor, they hit the ground running. I am officially understanding the reason why Monday is notorious for being so dreaded. After a weekend of the kids doing whatever they fancy and sleeping until they wake of their own accord, Monday morning is just plain horrible. Getting the kids out of bed and to school on time is like pulling teeth. Which leads me to my next point.

This past week was filled with all sorts of new developments. The kids had their 6 month dental appointment. Since Alex's horrible dental drama of the past with his 13 or so cavities and sedation dentistry (thank you medication), I dread these appointments far, far worse than the kids do. In fact, the kids actually enjoy them. We got a pediatric dentist as a result of the sedation dentistry and never went back to my dentist for them. They have nifty overhead TV screens and their dentist is absolutely the nicest guy you could ask for. They look forward to it. So while both kids are lying in their chairs, I am mentally biting my nails with a smile forced onto my face. So it was time for Abby's first x-rays and that alone had me worried. Upon Alex's first x-rays, things just went downhill for the little dude. Alex needed new x-rays too so off they both went to get their teeth photographed. I'm happy to say that Alex came back with zero cavities. He's brushing his own teeth most of the time these days, so I'm proud that he's doing so well. Abby, on the other hand, did not walk away with such luck. Miss Abby has her first cavity. Granted, they said they never would have caught it without the x-rays because it is so tiny and in between the teeth. But they think she'll do fine getting it fixed in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, my kids are blessed with their mama's teeth. And I've always had issues with my teeth. Their teeth are squeezed so close together that even the dentist has trouble fitting floss between them without a struggle. Close teeth are notorious for getting cavities. Oh well, maybe I'll luck out and they won't inherit my horrific vision as well.

There is also huge news! I am proud as punch to say that miss Abby finally had two days at school that did not start with crocodile tears. I dropped her off and, though she had slight moments of hesitation, she did fantastic! No tears! Yay! Granted, the recipe that makes a tear-less Abby is complicated at best. First, I made her a really nice necklace that has a heart "locket" on it with a picture on one side of me and her and a picture of her and Alex on the other (her choices). Second, you can't forget to put on her new pink, digital lady-bug watch and remind her that pick-up time is at 2:55. Or as I have to say to her, "Remember. I'll be back to pick you up at two five five." This suggestion was from her teacher to use as a coping technique. Third ingredient: Before leaving, I must give her two hugs, two kisses, one verbal promise of my return and one pinky promise that I won't forget to pick her up at two five five. But the most important ingredient is number four. I'm an early leaver. Meaning I like to arrive wherever I'm going early rather than right on time or late. It's just how my brain works. With Abby, I must adjust my neurosis slightly. There are only two other girls in her class and they arrive after we do generally. But I discovered that if all the kids are already there before we are, she does much better. So I now leave quite a bit later so we can arrive last. It's odd and slightly discomforting for my neurosis, but Abby's mind is the one I'm trying to keep at peace here. It's a crazy recipe, but so far so good. I'll run with it. No tears makes me feel much better too.

Lastly, let me just say that I signed up to be the Room Mom for Alex's class. I'm not sure I've mentioned this before. So I am the one responsible for getting class parties together and such. I signed up so that I could make the parties safe for his food allergies. Turns out that it adds quite a bit more to my ever-growing mental list. I am glad that I did it though. I feel like it's helped my nerves a bit for his safety at school. I've already done a popcorn party (which was a hit) and my next party that I'm in the process of planning is for Halloween. It's added a bit more crazy to my life, but it's all part of the job!

Sly Dog

I'd like to take this Wiggly Circus intermission to bring to you two genuine toddler moments, courtesy of Alex. He's become quite the sly little thinker these days. He's always trying to figure things out. Rather, he's always trying to figure out how to get what he wants.

Telling Time: A conversation with a 3 1/2 year old

Alex: Mom, can I play video games?
Me: No. Sorry...no video games right now.
Alex: But I want to play video games.
Me: Sorry, bud. No video games.
Alex (while pointing to the clock): Look mom! Do you see the clock?
Me: What about it?
Alex: You see what it says? Hmmm...(pretending to study the time on the clock) It says 'time to play video games!' Yay! It's time to play video games!

Growing Up: A 3 1/2 year old thinking it through

Every night after the kids go to bed, I watch DVDs of my favorite TV shows. We have a combo VHS/DVD player and the kids have been watching VHSs so I left my disc in the player. So the other morning I was in washing dishes when I heard the theme music to Smallville. I went in the living room to find Alex and Abby intently watching an episode of Smallville. I smiled and turned it off. Alex asked me what it was and I said, "It's Smallville, one of mama's shows that I watch." So he thought for a moment and then asked me, "Can I watch it too?" I told him no and he thought again, "Can I watch it when I get big like you?" I smiled and said, "Yes. You can watch it when you get big like me." He got up on the couch, climbed up onto the arm of the couch and stood as tall as he could. With arms up in a moment of pride, he exclaimed, "Look mom! I'm as big as you are! I grew up! Yay! I can watch Smallville now!"

All I could do was hug him and laugh. Cute.

Space Woes

Guess who's almost half a year old? That's right! Miss Evie is almost there. And what has happened, you ask? The dark circles under my eyes have overtaken my face. She has begun to dislike her sleeping arrangements. The crib, like usual, is in our room. It's so easy to get to her when she wakes up for those midnight snack runs when she's just a few feet away. That's how breastfeeding goes. With Alex and Abby, it was the same deal. But right around this time with both of them, I had to make "The Move". Yep. The big one. They leave the comfort of their not-so-sleeping mom's ever watchful eyes and move into their own room. They sleep better. I sleep better. It's all part and partial to the growing process. You gotta leave the nest. Albeit, in small steps. But nevertheless. It must happen. Right?

So, Alex moved into that room at this age. Abby moved into that room at this age. The same room...the only other room in the house. It's a teeny tiny office space sized room. We manged to remodel it enough a couple of years back so we could fit Alex and Abby's beds in there together. It's tight. Very tight these days. So tight, in fact, that they don't really get to play in there as there is little room to actually do much playing. So as both brother and sister made "The Move", we had hoped that Evie would make the move as well.

Dilemma: There's no more room to remodel. Back when I was preggo with Evie, Josh was working. Working well, I might add. And we were ready to make a move to a house that didn't compete in the Smallest Housing Contest. Right as we were about to go for it and complete the need for space, Josh's job made like a dead fish and went belly up. We're out of room.

Oh, I can keep Evie in the room with us indefinitely, I suppose. It shouldn't be too awful, right? But it's already biting me in the butt. Actually it's biting me in the bed. I'm exhausted. Every time she wakes up or stirs at night, she sees her mama sleeping just a few feet away and cries. Angrily. Loudly. All...night...long. She's gone from peachy keen sleeping pro to I-ain't-gonna-sleep-without-mama-holding-me girl. I'm so tired. So now the question of the hour is whether or not to go for the bunk bed route. It's concerning. Alex has night terrors and nightmares all the time and gets out of bed a lot at night. Not exactly a safe candidate for top-bunk sleeping. Abby is still in diapers (shhh...don't tell anyone) and having a heck of a time kicking the problem and so needs access to the bathroom at night. Also not a good candidate for top bunk sleeping. As I am trying to avoid midnight runs to the ER for broken bones as a result of falling, I've hit a snag.

Three kids in one tiny room. I never thought we'd get to this point. I always assumed we'd move up in life and avoid snags such as these. Josh is jobless. My kids keep getting bigger (which is awesome, don't get me wrong about that part). And my house is getting smaller. I'm so tired...in so many ways. I wonder if the attic can be remodeled?

Tidbits

11:00 A.M.

Since Alex's new found confidence, each day at 11:00 in the morning, I sit around and stare at the clock while keeping my phone in near reach. This is Alex's lunch time. From the time of 11:00 until noon, I sit around and bounce my knee nervously and count down the incredibly slow minutes of that nerve wracking hour. Kids eating lunch isn't a big deal for most parents. They don't even give it a second thought. But I have to and boy howdy! It sure slows time down when you worry for 60 straight minutes. I know I've said it a hundred times, but Alex is a good kid and smart as well. Even his teacher commented about how good he is with his food allergy stuff. But I tell you what. Sitting around for that hour is hard. I'm letting him grow his wings, but this mama bird is having a hard time letting him fly.

Glucose Fail - Fail - PASS!

At 28 weeks preggo, the big glucose screening test takes place at your doc. It's not a horrible test unless you dread getting your blood drawn. But it's a bit annoying as you can't eat a lick (literally) of sugar for at least 14 hours prior to the test and then you have to down some pretty potent sugary liquid, wait an hour, then get your blood taken. They are testing for gestational diabetes and I have zero risk factors and zero history of this problem. With Alex and Abby, I passed with no problems. With this wee one, I had an accident. I drank some of Abby's juice box one hour before the test. Oops! I'm a creature of habit and my test was later in the day. Plus I'm pregnant. Hello? I get hungry and eat what I see fit. So needless to say, I failed my test. When you fail, you have to take a three hour test where they take your blood four times over the course of the three hours. I told them about the juice accident and they had me retake the one hour test. I failed...barely. I was 143 and you have to be 140 to pass. Go figure. So one looooong fasting period later (more than eight hours w/o food while pregnant is horrible), four blood draws from the same tiny vein, and one nicked nerve later (ouch!), I was done with the test. 24 annoying long  hours later I got a notice that I passed! Woo-hoo! I know I'm just selfish here, but giving up my mint chocolate chip ice cream craving was not something I looked forward to. I could do it. I just didn't want to. Our palette of food options are already limited in this house. I didn't feel like altering it more. I'm clear though. No diabetes for me!

Polar Opposite

Here's the deal with Abby being in preschool. It's completely different! Abby being food allergy free is a blessing. But it's a strange and unfamiliar world to walk through for me. Each day I dropped Alex off at preschool, I had to go downstairs, talk to the teacher about snack time and plan ahead nearly every food related situation there was. It wasn't exhausting or anything as it's just part of my normal life. But this time around with miss Abby is completely different. It's so strange dropping off a kid with no medicine bag or no strict food rules. She's still not exposed to tree nuts yet so I've requested that it be avoided, but other than that, she's just a normal kid at school like most others. On her first day, I asked her what she had for snack time and she said, "I had a big, big giant cookie with frosting and sprinkles!" They were Loft House cookies from Wal-Mart. I know these well and they are not milk-free. So it was strange to just smile and say "Yummy! That sounds good Abby!" She also downed some Hershey Kisses from the teacher on the way home. It's strange, but I'm getting used to her food freedom.