So I have mentioned this to a few people, but I'm nervous. I know quite a few people who have had babies recently, and when I see these teeny, tiny, new little babies I freak out. I am going to have one of these little people in my house in just a few short months. This only leaves me one choice...to wonder WHAT WERE WE THINKING? Okay, then I calm down and remember that we have survived two new little babies in our house. Yeah, but that was before Bull in a China Shop (aka, Cal) and Layla who LOVES a lot of things a little too much. Seriously, nothing breakable lasts long in our house. As I type this Cal is trying desperately to pour milk on the computer. So truly, what were we thinking?
Oh yeah, we were thinking about how much love a new baby will add to our already overly full house. How much more smiles and laughter we will have once sweet little Ellie is here. We were thinking about baby frog legs, sleepy yawns, and tiny fingers and toes.
If I think in a logical manner I know everything will be fine. The kids will love Ellie and somehow she will manage to escape infanthood without breaking. I know that she will be tough like her brother, and sweet like her sister.
I know this, but I'm still nervous. Of course I remember being nervous with Layla. I was terrified when it was time to leave the hospital. The overwhelming reality that Kelly and I were now solely responsible for a tiny new little life was the most frightening thing I have experienced. And then we brought her home and she didn't eat and she wouldn't poop. And I was sure something was horribly wrong. But it wasn't. A few days into it she was eating like a pro, and I was changing dirty diapers. And now she is almost three, with crazy curls and one of the sweetest hearts in existence.
I don't remember being nervous at all with Cal. We were in the middle of moving and I kept being sent to the hospital for premature labor, and all I wanted was for him to hang in there long enough to get moved. He did, and he has been in a hurry ever since. At six months he refused to eat anything but real food. He walked early, which means running early as well. He charges through our house without regard for anything or anyone else. He was the easiest baby ever. As far nervousness goes, we were out and about at the mall when he was just two weeks old. It was completely different than it was with Layla.
I'm sure once she is here and we are home and the family is adjusting the nervous feeling will go away. Maybe part of it is because this is the last one...
I feel this crazy need to remember every second of being pregnant. And that is impossible. Especially when taking care of Layla and Cal. I also feel like I need to document every second once she is here, which again is impossible. Ask anyone who knows me if I ever have a camera with me.
We'll survive. In fact, not only will we survive, but we will do it Campbell style. With a whole lot of love, laughter, and hopefully patience. We will all adjust to adding a precious little girl to our lives, and we will love her (we all already do. In fact, Layla is now the Ellie expert and will rest her head on my stomach and tell me, "Mom, Ellie wants a bottle" or "Mom, Ellie wants a blanket"). We are anxious. Layla is ready for her to be here now. I'm excited to meet her. Kelly is ecstatic that we are having another girl. And Cal, well he might be a little oblivious but I know he will adore his new baby sister once she is here.
In the meantime, I have decided to embrace the nervousness. It makes me a little more aware of how precious life is. It makes me realize how fortunate I am to have an amazing husband, and two (soon to be three) incredible children. I am so blessed that not only is this my family here on earth, but that we are sealed together for eternity. I know that as long as I do my part I can spend eternity with my family. And honestly, that helps. It helps a lot. It is so nice to know that I have an eternity to try to become the best wife and mom possible to these amazing people.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
To Be A Mother...
First, the majority of you know this, but it is a girl! Yay! I am thrilled! I cannot wait to have another girl. I hope her and Layla will be best friends.
So as I'm starting to look more and more pregnant, I hear all the time "Oh, you're going to have your hands full!" And that's from the nice people. It is so frustrating to me how motherhood is not only not more celebrated, but not more encouraged. For example, we hear all the time about success in terms of money and career. How often do we hear about success as a mother? I think if you and your kids made it through the day, that should be celebrated! I think all this focus on career and financial success takes away from one of the most important jobs of all time, motherhood. Too often we hear from others "oh she does...and makes...and is really doing well" but we don't hear, "Oh she has four kids, and they are happy, well-adjusted children, she is really doing well."
It is so important for girls to know it is okay to want to be a mom. I have asked a few girls what they want to do after college, and some of them answer "a mom" almost sheepishly, like it is something to be ashamed of. I say shame on us if we are not promoting the importance of motherhood.
Let's face it, there are plenty of days where I would love to put on dressier clothes, something without graham cracker crumbs sprinkled all over, do my make-up, meet the nanny at the door and head off to some exciting career. To a career where I can earn recognition from someone other than my husband. Where mess, and cartoons, and tears are not part of my routine. Where if I lose my patience with someone I don't end up feeling like a complete failure. To some job where when people asked what I did instead of just smiling and saying "oh" about my being a mother, they actually asked questions and were interested.
But that's not why I became a mom. I did not become a mom for someone else to raise my children while I worked some over-glorified position. I know there are mothers who cannot afford to stay home, and I am so grateful that my husband and I are able to have me stay home with our children. Yes, this may mean being broke, praying that your car won't break down, that the doctor bill will be smaller than anticipated, that you can make something appetizing out of what's on sale this week. But it is worth it.
I know that if I went to work I would constantly be wondering what my kids were doing. And though it seems never ending, I know I will miss the graham cracker crumbs, the peanut butter and jelly smears, the playdough, the mess, and the tears some day (okay, I don't think I will miss the tears!). But my point tonight is this, we need to celebrate motherhood. I definitely get my rewards, hugs, smiles, jokes, laughter. But we need to acknowledge the effort that mothers put forth every day. The courage it takes to be a mother. We need to applaud every woman who puts her children first.
It is a good thing to want to be a mom, while it might not be the most glamourous job ever, it is the only job with amazing benefits. Yes, there's no vacation days, no sick time, no paid overtime, but watching your children learn and grow is so worth it.
So to moms everywhere, you are amazing! You are doing a great job, and you deserve recognition! Here's to celebrating motherhood!
So as I'm starting to look more and more pregnant, I hear all the time "Oh, you're going to have your hands full!" And that's from the nice people. It is so frustrating to me how motherhood is not only not more celebrated, but not more encouraged. For example, we hear all the time about success in terms of money and career. How often do we hear about success as a mother? I think if you and your kids made it through the day, that should be celebrated! I think all this focus on career and financial success takes away from one of the most important jobs of all time, motherhood. Too often we hear from others "oh she does...and makes...and is really doing well" but we don't hear, "Oh she has four kids, and they are happy, well-adjusted children, she is really doing well."
It is so important for girls to know it is okay to want to be a mom. I have asked a few girls what they want to do after college, and some of them answer "a mom" almost sheepishly, like it is something to be ashamed of. I say shame on us if we are not promoting the importance of motherhood.
Let's face it, there are plenty of days where I would love to put on dressier clothes, something without graham cracker crumbs sprinkled all over, do my make-up, meet the nanny at the door and head off to some exciting career. To a career where I can earn recognition from someone other than my husband. Where mess, and cartoons, and tears are not part of my routine. Where if I lose my patience with someone I don't end up feeling like a complete failure. To some job where when people asked what I did instead of just smiling and saying "oh" about my being a mother, they actually asked questions and were interested.
But that's not why I became a mom. I did not become a mom for someone else to raise my children while I worked some over-glorified position. I know there are mothers who cannot afford to stay home, and I am so grateful that my husband and I are able to have me stay home with our children. Yes, this may mean being broke, praying that your car won't break down, that the doctor bill will be smaller than anticipated, that you can make something appetizing out of what's on sale this week. But it is worth it.
I know that if I went to work I would constantly be wondering what my kids were doing. And though it seems never ending, I know I will miss the graham cracker crumbs, the peanut butter and jelly smears, the playdough, the mess, and the tears some day (okay, I don't think I will miss the tears!). But my point tonight is this, we need to celebrate motherhood. I definitely get my rewards, hugs, smiles, jokes, laughter. But we need to acknowledge the effort that mothers put forth every day. The courage it takes to be a mother. We need to applaud every woman who puts her children first.
It is a good thing to want to be a mom, while it might not be the most glamourous job ever, it is the only job with amazing benefits. Yes, there's no vacation days, no sick time, no paid overtime, but watching your children learn and grow is so worth it.
So to moms everywhere, you are amazing! You are doing a great job, and you deserve recognition! Here's to celebrating motherhood!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Layla's Year
All year I have debated about blogging about what Layla has gone through this year. I would start to, and then I could never bring myself to post it. Now that we are at the end of this journey it is much easier to talk about. So here is the other reason why we have been so busy...
Layla turned two the middle of January. We went for her well check and everything was great, except for the usual concern over her growth rate. The concern the doctors had was not that she is small, but that her growth stops and when it starts again it is not a huge growth spurt. Her doctor made a growth chart for Layla to show the curve that she should be following. Instead of curving, Layla's growth just goes flat for up to six months at a time. Anyway, it was the usual "lets give her a little more time" thing.
About two weeks after that Layla started complaining that her left eye hurt. It was usually when she was tired, so I just kind of brushed it off as having tired eyes. Until it started waking her up at night. She would wake up screaming about her eye hurting. I took her to the doctor, where we discovered she had a massive ear infection on that side. The doctor thought that the ear infection might be causing the pain, so he prescribed antibiotics and sent her to an opthamologist. The opthamologist looked at her eye and said it was fine. She said it was not protruding so she didn't think there was reason to be concerned about tumors. She agreed with the doctor that it could just be from an ear infection.
Kelly and I felt much better, although there was this nagging worry in the back of my mind that I could not get rid of. Then a few days after the opthamolgist appointment we were all driving in the car. We turned a corner and the sun hit Layla right in her face. She freaked out like I have never seen anyone freak out. The pain was so apparent. It was beyond heartbreaking. Kelly and I immediately knew this was more than an ear ache.
We called the doctor right away and got her in the next day. Dr. A. looked at her ear and said the infection was gone. Dr. A. is a pretty mellow guy. He loves his job, and always seems to know the answer. I have never seen him as shaken up as I did at that appointment. Kelly and I were more worried about his reaction than what he was saying, because honestly it did not make sense to us. He was talking about imaging, and tumors, and pseudo tumors. I simply could not process it. There was no way he was talking about my daughter having a tumor.
We got a referral right away to a pediatric neurologist. We saw him that afternoon. He ordered an MRI and MRA and discussed various possibilities. We left thinking the tests would be done right away. Nope, they were scheduled for over a month later.
Meanwhile, the pain worsened and moved to both of her eyes. There were days were she would just lay in bed for four or more hours. Then one morning I went in to wake Layla up only to discover her left eye looked bruised. The only way to describe it was that there was a weird puddle of blue around her eye, like blood just kind of pooling around her eye. I felt like a horrible mom, because it was so awful looking that it made me gag. I woke her up and she sat on my lap while I frantically called Dr. A. His staff pulled him from the room he was in and put him on the phone with me. By the time he got on the phone her eye had went back to normal from her sitting up. I was told by Dr. A that if it came back and did not go away to take her to the pediatric er.
I also called the neurologist and was told by him to not let her lay down. This freaked me out. Why couldn't she lay down? And what the heck was going to happen if she did? The neurologist got her in for an appointment and could see some of the blue around her eye. We got a rush put on the imaging tests.
The day of the MRI was one of the hardest. Definitely not the hardest, but one of them. We dropped Cal off with my sister and headed out for the test. Because the machine is loud and scary they had to put Layla under so she would be still. She was so happy and loved all of the attention from the nurses. And then the anaesthesiologist came in. And I hated him. I know that is unfair. I know he was just doing his job. But I despised him. He tried for at least fifteen minutes to stab an IV needle in my daughter's foot. And I had to help hold her down the whole time. At first she was kicking and screaming and yelling. It took so long that she finally gave up and just cried and asked me to make it stop and take her home. And then he finally got it and she was out.
And they took her. I thought I would get to go with her but they didn't let me. I knew she was under and had no clue what was going on, but I was so scared for her. So scared she would wake up in the middle of the test and I wouldn't be there for her.
The nurse was really nice and updated us every fifteen minutes. They did an MRI with and without contrast and a partial MRA. They couldn't do the full MRA because she was too little to be out that long. She woke up a little before we left. When we got home she slept for maybe a half an hour, then woke up and was her normal self. Thank goodness.
The results from that came back fine, which was wonderful news. I was still celebrating that when the neurologist then mentioned neuroblastoma. This is a childhood cancer that she had many symptoms for. The tumor is typically found in the abdomen and chest so the MRI would not have shown it. So we made an appointment with a pediatric oncologist.
That was the hardest day. Not even the hardest day of the year, but the hardest day of my life. No matter how hard I try that day is etched in my mind and I cannot erase it. I was not prepared. I had been so consumed with my worry for Layla that I did not think about what this visit would be like. There was my sweet little girl with her wild, curly, uncontrollable hair in the middle of these beautiful bald children. They were so young and they were so sick. And their parents, I cannot begin to imagine their grief, sorrow, and hope. Their strength, their weakness, and their fears. And on the wall in big vinyl letters was this beautiful and terrible quote by A.A. Milne, from Christopher Robin to Pooh, "Promise me you'll always remember you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." I am not stronger than I seem. I am so thankful that was the only visit we ever had at that office. I am not as strong as the parents that were there.
They did blood work at the office and it came back great. They sent us to a lab for blood work and a urine test, which also came back great. I am so grateful that my daughter is sitting on the floor teasing and laughing with her younger brother right now.
So we were back at the neurologist who told us to do Motrin around the clock for three days to get rid of the blue around her eyes. Easy enough. Then he sent us to a pediatric cardiologist. And new fears and worries kept popping up.
The Motrin worked. The blue went away and never came back. We still have no clue what it was. The cardiologist was amazing. He even gave me his email address so I could keep him updated on Layla. After their tests we were told her heart was fine, again thank goodness. Layla loved the tests done there. She loved being able to see her heart on the screen and look at the different colors.
So back at the neurologists office again, he sent us for an ultrasound of her neck to check on a bruit. I guess a bruit is a sound heard in the arteries which indicates a problem. We scheduled the test and unfortunately Kelly could not go with me because he had a huge meeting at work that day. My sister went and waited in the waiting room with Calvin. The tech took Layla and I back and expressed concern several times on doing a test on someone so young without sedation. I had no clue until he told me, but this ultrasound takes 45 minutes and the person needs to lay absolutely still. Well, I know my daughter and insisted to the technician that he do the test without putting her under. I had faith in her and there was no way I wanted her sedated again.
He did the test and told me about twenty times that Layla was the youngest person he had ever done the test on. This test was in April or May, so she was two and a few months. And she was awesome. I was so proud of her. She was scared, but they let me lay on the bed with her. She did it. She laid perfectly still for 45 minutes so the technician could get good pictures of her neck. After we finished the test the technician said he had not done the test on anyone younger than 40.
Those results came back good as well. I was so relieved that all these tests were coming back good, and I was so frustrated that we were putting her through all of this for nothing. And she was still screaming in pain about her eyes several times a day. She hated to go to Target because of the fluorescent lights, they made her eyes hurt. She refused to take her sunglasses off inside. She rode in the car with a towel over her head. It was maddening.
The neurologist decided it was migraines and put her on migraine medicine. We tried that and it really did not help. I had agreed that it was migraines, but it still bothered me. I found myself typing in all of her symptoms into countless search engines. And then I came across something called Sensory Processing Disorder, SPD. It sounded just like my daughter. I brought it up to the neurologist at the next appointment. He said it was worth a shot and sent her to an occupational therapist. At this appointment he noticed that she "W" sits. I had mentioned this to her pediatrician because I knew it wasn't good. He wasn't too concerned thinking she would just grow out of it. Well, the neurologist was extremely concerned. He said it can do a lot of damage to her hips. So he wanted her seen by a physical therapist as well.
We made appointments for PT and OT at Children's Therapy Center. The PT appointment was first. The therapist sent us to a pediatric bone surgeon for x-rays of her hips. Her hips are fine, but her thigh bones are both rotated in 20 degrees, which is why she sits in the "W" position. He said this was not too uncommon and that she should outgrow it by the time she is eight. If not she will have to have surgery. She also has poor muscle tone, which is causing the arches of her feet and her heels to collapse. We need to get inserts for her shoes and that will help with that. As her muscle tone increases this will get better. If she were to be put in braces she would end up pigeon toed because of her legs. This is totally unrelated to her eyes, but nice to know. The arches and heels are not really that big of a deal. If she plays sports in school she will just get tired of running faster than the other kids, but the inserts will help with that.
So, back to OT. She has been going for about two months now and...her eyes have only hurt twice! What a simple problem with an easy solution. She does not process sensory input the same as other kids, so light makes her eyes hurt as well as too much visual stimulation. This center does not do vision therapy. My sister-in-law told me that there is not anyone in Nevada that does vision therapy (she is going to school to be a physical therapist and she works for a therapist). The OT that Layla is seeing, Dee, is amazing. She said that working with Layla on her other senses would improve how she processes all of her senses, including visual processing. At it is! Dee has a few other things that she is working with Layla on, and Layla adores her. And Dee loves Layla too. I am excited about the changes I can see in my daughter and I know that things are only going to continue to improve.
I am so grateful. So grateful that my daughter is healthy. So thankful that she is feeling better and back to driving me insane! I am so happy that she is a part of my family. She is so sweet and spunky. I wouldn't trade her for the world (although some days I may threaten to).
Layla turned two the middle of January. We went for her well check and everything was great, except for the usual concern over her growth rate. The concern the doctors had was not that she is small, but that her growth stops and when it starts again it is not a huge growth spurt. Her doctor made a growth chart for Layla to show the curve that she should be following. Instead of curving, Layla's growth just goes flat for up to six months at a time. Anyway, it was the usual "lets give her a little more time" thing.
About two weeks after that Layla started complaining that her left eye hurt. It was usually when she was tired, so I just kind of brushed it off as having tired eyes. Until it started waking her up at night. She would wake up screaming about her eye hurting. I took her to the doctor, where we discovered she had a massive ear infection on that side. The doctor thought that the ear infection might be causing the pain, so he prescribed antibiotics and sent her to an opthamologist. The opthamologist looked at her eye and said it was fine. She said it was not protruding so she didn't think there was reason to be concerned about tumors. She agreed with the doctor that it could just be from an ear infection.
Kelly and I felt much better, although there was this nagging worry in the back of my mind that I could not get rid of. Then a few days after the opthamolgist appointment we were all driving in the car. We turned a corner and the sun hit Layla right in her face. She freaked out like I have never seen anyone freak out. The pain was so apparent. It was beyond heartbreaking. Kelly and I immediately knew this was more than an ear ache.
We called the doctor right away and got her in the next day. Dr. A. looked at her ear and said the infection was gone. Dr. A. is a pretty mellow guy. He loves his job, and always seems to know the answer. I have never seen him as shaken up as I did at that appointment. Kelly and I were more worried about his reaction than what he was saying, because honestly it did not make sense to us. He was talking about imaging, and tumors, and pseudo tumors. I simply could not process it. There was no way he was talking about my daughter having a tumor.
We got a referral right away to a pediatric neurologist. We saw him that afternoon. He ordered an MRI and MRA and discussed various possibilities. We left thinking the tests would be done right away. Nope, they were scheduled for over a month later.
Meanwhile, the pain worsened and moved to both of her eyes. There were days were she would just lay in bed for four or more hours. Then one morning I went in to wake Layla up only to discover her left eye looked bruised. The only way to describe it was that there was a weird puddle of blue around her eye, like blood just kind of pooling around her eye. I felt like a horrible mom, because it was so awful looking that it made me gag. I woke her up and she sat on my lap while I frantically called Dr. A. His staff pulled him from the room he was in and put him on the phone with me. By the time he got on the phone her eye had went back to normal from her sitting up. I was told by Dr. A that if it came back and did not go away to take her to the pediatric er.
I also called the neurologist and was told by him to not let her lay down. This freaked me out. Why couldn't she lay down? And what the heck was going to happen if she did? The neurologist got her in for an appointment and could see some of the blue around her eye. We got a rush put on the imaging tests.
The day of the MRI was one of the hardest. Definitely not the hardest, but one of them. We dropped Cal off with my sister and headed out for the test. Because the machine is loud and scary they had to put Layla under so she would be still. She was so happy and loved all of the attention from the nurses. And then the anaesthesiologist came in. And I hated him. I know that is unfair. I know he was just doing his job. But I despised him. He tried for at least fifteen minutes to stab an IV needle in my daughter's foot. And I had to help hold her down the whole time. At first she was kicking and screaming and yelling. It took so long that she finally gave up and just cried and asked me to make it stop and take her home. And then he finally got it and she was out.
And they took her. I thought I would get to go with her but they didn't let me. I knew she was under and had no clue what was going on, but I was so scared for her. So scared she would wake up in the middle of the test and I wouldn't be there for her.
The nurse was really nice and updated us every fifteen minutes. They did an MRI with and without contrast and a partial MRA. They couldn't do the full MRA because she was too little to be out that long. She woke up a little before we left. When we got home she slept for maybe a half an hour, then woke up and was her normal self. Thank goodness.
The results from that came back fine, which was wonderful news. I was still celebrating that when the neurologist then mentioned neuroblastoma. This is a childhood cancer that she had many symptoms for. The tumor is typically found in the abdomen and chest so the MRI would not have shown it. So we made an appointment with a pediatric oncologist.
That was the hardest day. Not even the hardest day of the year, but the hardest day of my life. No matter how hard I try that day is etched in my mind and I cannot erase it. I was not prepared. I had been so consumed with my worry for Layla that I did not think about what this visit would be like. There was my sweet little girl with her wild, curly, uncontrollable hair in the middle of these beautiful bald children. They were so young and they were so sick. And their parents, I cannot begin to imagine their grief, sorrow, and hope. Their strength, their weakness, and their fears. And on the wall in big vinyl letters was this beautiful and terrible quote by A.A. Milne, from Christopher Robin to Pooh, "Promise me you'll always remember you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." I am not stronger than I seem. I am so thankful that was the only visit we ever had at that office. I am not as strong as the parents that were there.
They did blood work at the office and it came back great. They sent us to a lab for blood work and a urine test, which also came back great. I am so grateful that my daughter is sitting on the floor teasing and laughing with her younger brother right now.
So we were back at the neurologist who told us to do Motrin around the clock for three days to get rid of the blue around her eyes. Easy enough. Then he sent us to a pediatric cardiologist. And new fears and worries kept popping up.
The Motrin worked. The blue went away and never came back. We still have no clue what it was. The cardiologist was amazing. He even gave me his email address so I could keep him updated on Layla. After their tests we were told her heart was fine, again thank goodness. Layla loved the tests done there. She loved being able to see her heart on the screen and look at the different colors.
So back at the neurologists office again, he sent us for an ultrasound of her neck to check on a bruit. I guess a bruit is a sound heard in the arteries which indicates a problem. We scheduled the test and unfortunately Kelly could not go with me because he had a huge meeting at work that day. My sister went and waited in the waiting room with Calvin. The tech took Layla and I back and expressed concern several times on doing a test on someone so young without sedation. I had no clue until he told me, but this ultrasound takes 45 minutes and the person needs to lay absolutely still. Well, I know my daughter and insisted to the technician that he do the test without putting her under. I had faith in her and there was no way I wanted her sedated again.
He did the test and told me about twenty times that Layla was the youngest person he had ever done the test on. This test was in April or May, so she was two and a few months. And she was awesome. I was so proud of her. She was scared, but they let me lay on the bed with her. She did it. She laid perfectly still for 45 minutes so the technician could get good pictures of her neck. After we finished the test the technician said he had not done the test on anyone younger than 40.
Those results came back good as well. I was so relieved that all these tests were coming back good, and I was so frustrated that we were putting her through all of this for nothing. And she was still screaming in pain about her eyes several times a day. She hated to go to Target because of the fluorescent lights, they made her eyes hurt. She refused to take her sunglasses off inside. She rode in the car with a towel over her head. It was maddening.
The neurologist decided it was migraines and put her on migraine medicine. We tried that and it really did not help. I had agreed that it was migraines, but it still bothered me. I found myself typing in all of her symptoms into countless search engines. And then I came across something called Sensory Processing Disorder, SPD. It sounded just like my daughter. I brought it up to the neurologist at the next appointment. He said it was worth a shot and sent her to an occupational therapist. At this appointment he noticed that she "W" sits. I had mentioned this to her pediatrician because I knew it wasn't good. He wasn't too concerned thinking she would just grow out of it. Well, the neurologist was extremely concerned. He said it can do a lot of damage to her hips. So he wanted her seen by a physical therapist as well.
We made appointments for PT and OT at Children's Therapy Center. The PT appointment was first. The therapist sent us to a pediatric bone surgeon for x-rays of her hips. Her hips are fine, but her thigh bones are both rotated in 20 degrees, which is why she sits in the "W" position. He said this was not too uncommon and that she should outgrow it by the time she is eight. If not she will have to have surgery. She also has poor muscle tone, which is causing the arches of her feet and her heels to collapse. We need to get inserts for her shoes and that will help with that. As her muscle tone increases this will get better. If she were to be put in braces she would end up pigeon toed because of her legs. This is totally unrelated to her eyes, but nice to know. The arches and heels are not really that big of a deal. If she plays sports in school she will just get tired of running faster than the other kids, but the inserts will help with that.
So, back to OT. She has been going for about two months now and...her eyes have only hurt twice! What a simple problem with an easy solution. She does not process sensory input the same as other kids, so light makes her eyes hurt as well as too much visual stimulation. This center does not do vision therapy. My sister-in-law told me that there is not anyone in Nevada that does vision therapy (she is going to school to be a physical therapist and she works for a therapist). The OT that Layla is seeing, Dee, is amazing. She said that working with Layla on her other senses would improve how she processes all of her senses, including visual processing. At it is! Dee has a few other things that she is working with Layla on, and Layla adores her. And Dee loves Layla too. I am excited about the changes I can see in my daughter and I know that things are only going to continue to improve.
I am so grateful. So grateful that my daughter is healthy. So thankful that she is feeling better and back to driving me insane! I am so happy that she is a part of my family. She is so sweet and spunky. I wouldn't trade her for the world (although some days I may threaten to).
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Wow, three months!?!
Has it really been three months since I blogged? Yikes! I have been so busy (we all have) with all of the usual things. Raising a two year old and a one year old leaves me with no free time, and the little bit that I do have is usually spent sleeping. Seriously, I was playing with Layla the other day and I woke up half an hour later! Is that not the worst feeling? When you wake up and freak out and run to make sure everyone is okay? Thankfully Cal was asleep, and Layla just continued to play by herself. Phew! Kelly has been super busy too, work is crazy right now and he is still going to school full-time as well. He will be done in July, yay! Can I just say that I am so thrilled. He is going to take a little break, and then probably apply for his master's. Two more years sounds daunting, but it is so worth it. I'm looking forward to the break though! Aside from the usual craziness that keeps everyone busy, there are two reasons why I have been so busy. They each deserve their own post, so I'll just write about one for now.
I'm pregnant! Ha, I said that like it was some big secret that I was just announcing, but I think anyone that reads my blog knows this by now! I'm due April 1st, but my other two came three weeks early, so I'm thinking it'll be the same with this one. We find out what it is a week from today! Yay! I cannot wait. I think I am more anxious to know what this one is than I was with my other two. My pregnancies were so similar with Layla and Cal, up until about 35 weeks. This one has been so so different. I was so sick, and not just the puking sick, that I could have handled better. I was constantly dizzy, and felt like I was on the verge of passing out the entire first trimester. I was literally afraid to leave my house by myself with my kids because I worried I would be out somewhere and pass out. I know, it sounds dramatic now, doesn't it?
I think another reason why I am so anxious is that this is going to be our last one. I don't know how I feel about that. I have endometriosis, and something really needs to be done about it. The options my doctor gave me that would work for me were not ones that would allow me to have children. It was kind of a matter of now, or try some treatment for 18 months and hope I was able to have kids when we were done with treatment. We went for having one now, and then doing treatment afterwards. My doctor said having three kids so close together in a row could really help me and that it might take longer for the endometriosis to become active again, so we'll see. In the meantime, I have scar tissue that is binding organs together and as I get bigger it pulls organs out of place. And it hurts! I know, I'm a baby, but it hurts!
I'm not sure if I have come to terms with this being our last. Once we started having kids I really really wanted four, I was set on four. Either two or four, but not three. When we had to decide if we wanted more children we knew the answer was yes. So it looks like it will be three. There are some days where three now sounds great to me. Days where Layla is laying on the floor screaming while Cal is managing to cover every square inch of himself, his booster seat, the kitchen table and floor with food. Days when the carpet is no longer visible through the sea of toys. Days when I am certain it is time for Kelly to leave work, and I look at the clock only to see that it is 11am. You know the kind of days I mean.
But there are other days, days when Layla and Cal play together so well. When they are both so sweet and kind to each other. Days when I wonder if this is the right decision. But I tell myself three is good. Three works for our family. And I know it is good, and it does work. But I wonder if I will always question this.
So for now, I'm excited for this baby. Like I said, it has been such a different pregnancy that I have no clue as to what it is. Sometimes I think it is a girl, and sometimes I think it is a boy. I hope it is a girl, because to be honest, I really don't want to deal with a circumcision again! All I have to say is that there was Vaseline and pee everywhere for a good solid month! Okay, maybe it was only a week or two, but it felt like forever!
I will keep you all posted and let you know when we find out what it is!
I'm pregnant! Ha, I said that like it was some big secret that I was just announcing, but I think anyone that reads my blog knows this by now! I'm due April 1st, but my other two came three weeks early, so I'm thinking it'll be the same with this one. We find out what it is a week from today! Yay! I cannot wait. I think I am more anxious to know what this one is than I was with my other two. My pregnancies were so similar with Layla and Cal, up until about 35 weeks. This one has been so so different. I was so sick, and not just the puking sick, that I could have handled better. I was constantly dizzy, and felt like I was on the verge of passing out the entire first trimester. I was literally afraid to leave my house by myself with my kids because I worried I would be out somewhere and pass out. I know, it sounds dramatic now, doesn't it?
I think another reason why I am so anxious is that this is going to be our last one. I don't know how I feel about that. I have endometriosis, and something really needs to be done about it. The options my doctor gave me that would work for me were not ones that would allow me to have children. It was kind of a matter of now, or try some treatment for 18 months and hope I was able to have kids when we were done with treatment. We went for having one now, and then doing treatment afterwards. My doctor said having three kids so close together in a row could really help me and that it might take longer for the endometriosis to become active again, so we'll see. In the meantime, I have scar tissue that is binding organs together and as I get bigger it pulls organs out of place. And it hurts! I know, I'm a baby, but it hurts!
I'm not sure if I have come to terms with this being our last. Once we started having kids I really really wanted four, I was set on four. Either two or four, but not three. When we had to decide if we wanted more children we knew the answer was yes. So it looks like it will be three. There are some days where three now sounds great to me. Days where Layla is laying on the floor screaming while Cal is managing to cover every square inch of himself, his booster seat, the kitchen table and floor with food. Days when the carpet is no longer visible through the sea of toys. Days when I am certain it is time for Kelly to leave work, and I look at the clock only to see that it is 11am. You know the kind of days I mean.
But there are other days, days when Layla and Cal play together so well. When they are both so sweet and kind to each other. Days when I wonder if this is the right decision. But I tell myself three is good. Three works for our family. And I know it is good, and it does work. But I wonder if I will always question this.
So for now, I'm excited for this baby. Like I said, it has been such a different pregnancy that I have no clue as to what it is. Sometimes I think it is a girl, and sometimes I think it is a boy. I hope it is a girl, because to be honest, I really don't want to deal with a circumcision again! All I have to say is that there was Vaseline and pee everywhere for a good solid month! Okay, maybe it was only a week or two, but it felt like forever!
I will keep you all posted and let you know when we find out what it is!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
I Hope
There has been so much this past week. Too much. There has been deep, bone-piercing sorrow. The kind of sorrow that has you down on your knees sobbing, begging for relief. There has been fear. The kind that sits right in your throat, the one that makes you want to scream, but you can't because there is no room for the yell to get out past the fear that is strangling you. And there has been joy, the sweet joy that steals your breath and makes you feel so much hope for tomorrow.
That's what I am holding on to. Some of these sorrows and fears you may already know, but they are not mine to tell. They belong more to other people who have felt them more deeply than me this past week. Some you do not know and these have been mine, but they are still causing too much sorrow and fear to share them with anyone but my husband, who is so sweet to listen to me and understand this pain. And of course, I have shared them with my Heavenly Father. As I have dealt with many decisions in the past week I have prayed so much, and I am so grateful for the calm comforting spirit that I have felt.
But there is also so much joy. Right now, my joy is bittersweet. Again, I still cannot share this with anyone but my husband because of the mix of emotions it brings flooding out. No, this I am saving for the moment when it brings only joy. But for now, I will share that it brings hope.
Most of my hopes are for my children. You mothers, future mothers, and mothers-at-heart, you all understand this. We have so many hopes for them. So much that we want for them. At times it bubbles up inside you, and threatens to come bursting forth with tears and laughter. There is so much.
I hope I raise good children who turn into good people. I hope they are polite. I hope they remember to say please and thank you. I hope Layla doesn't pick her nose in nursery. I hope they share. I hope they have friends. I hope they use nice words and do not make fun of anyone. I hope they don't get made fun of. I hope they are respectful. I hope they are dependable.
You know it goes deeper than that.
I hope they live in a safer, happier world than we do now. I hope they do their part to contribute to society. I hope they help others. I hope that when they see someone in need they offer their assitance. I hope they make the world better.
I hope they are happy. I hope they have so much happiness in their lives. I hope that even in times of grief and sorrow, they know that happiness is just around the corner.
I hope they forgive. I hope they forgive me on the days, and there are many, when I am not the mom I want to be. Not the mom they deserve. I hope they learn to turn the other cheek and forgive everyone. I hope they know the wisdom in forgiveness. I hope they know to seek forgiveness when they have made mistakes.
I hope they know and love Heavenly Father. I hope they realize who they really are, and live to their full potential as sons and daughters of God. I hope that they have a testimony strong enough to endure. I hope they remain true and faithful, and go to the temple. I hope they understand how important the gospel is in being truly happy.
I hope they know I love them. I hope they know that when they were babies I would just stare at them while they slept, and think of all my hopes for them. I hope they know that their dad loves them. I hope they know that Kelly and I consider them in every decision we make. I hope they know that we will always love them, no matter what. I hope they will always remember the importance of family, both the family they have now and the families they will have in the future.
I hope they love.
That's what I am holding on to. Some of these sorrows and fears you may already know, but they are not mine to tell. They belong more to other people who have felt them more deeply than me this past week. Some you do not know and these have been mine, but they are still causing too much sorrow and fear to share them with anyone but my husband, who is so sweet to listen to me and understand this pain. And of course, I have shared them with my Heavenly Father. As I have dealt with many decisions in the past week I have prayed so much, and I am so grateful for the calm comforting spirit that I have felt.
But there is also so much joy. Right now, my joy is bittersweet. Again, I still cannot share this with anyone but my husband because of the mix of emotions it brings flooding out. No, this I am saving for the moment when it brings only joy. But for now, I will share that it brings hope.
Most of my hopes are for my children. You mothers, future mothers, and mothers-at-heart, you all understand this. We have so many hopes for them. So much that we want for them. At times it bubbles up inside you, and threatens to come bursting forth with tears and laughter. There is so much.
I hope I raise good children who turn into good people. I hope they are polite. I hope they remember to say please and thank you. I hope Layla doesn't pick her nose in nursery. I hope they share. I hope they have friends. I hope they use nice words and do not make fun of anyone. I hope they don't get made fun of. I hope they are respectful. I hope they are dependable.
You know it goes deeper than that.
I hope they live in a safer, happier world than we do now. I hope they do their part to contribute to society. I hope they help others. I hope that when they see someone in need they offer their assitance. I hope they make the world better.
I hope they are happy. I hope they have so much happiness in their lives. I hope that even in times of grief and sorrow, they know that happiness is just around the corner.
I hope they forgive. I hope they forgive me on the days, and there are many, when I am not the mom I want to be. Not the mom they deserve. I hope they learn to turn the other cheek and forgive everyone. I hope they know the wisdom in forgiveness. I hope they know to seek forgiveness when they have made mistakes.
I hope they know and love Heavenly Father. I hope they realize who they really are, and live to their full potential as sons and daughters of God. I hope that they have a testimony strong enough to endure. I hope they remain true and faithful, and go to the temple. I hope they understand how important the gospel is in being truly happy.
I hope they know I love them. I hope they know that when they were babies I would just stare at them while they slept, and think of all my hopes for them. I hope they know that their dad loves them. I hope they know that Kelly and I consider them in every decision we make. I hope they know that we will always love them, no matter what. I hope they will always remember the importance of family, both the family they have now and the families they will have in the future.
I hope they love.
Monday, June 13, 2011
The Man I Love
So, in honor of the upcoming Father's Day, I wanted to write a little bit about the man I love. Without him, I would not be the person I am. I want to share who he is with all of you.
My husband, Kelly, is an amazing father. He loves his kids with such devotion, I think he thinks they can do anything (and rightly so, I think this too). They absolutely adore him. In fact, when Layla woke up from surgery, she did not want me, but her she screamed her head off for her Dad. In fact, it was so awful that they let me take her out of recovery early and into the waiting room to be with her dad (who was in the waiting room because they would not allow Cal into recovery). When he leaves for work in the morning I hear for a good, solid thirty minutes, "Oh, Daddy. My Daddy. Daddy is gone. I miss Daddy." from Layla. On bad days, she stands at the door and cries. Cal lights up when he sees him. Of course, "dada" was his first word, and it seemed as though he knew what it meant from the moment he said it. The first time he said it he was looking right at Kelly. Kelly puts fatherhood as one of his highest priorities. He makes sure our kids know him, and know that he loves them.
He is wonderful at making memories. For mother's day we tried a new pizza place that I had been dying to try. When we were seated the man at the table to the side of us was wearing a shirt with a skeleton on it. It scared Layla so bad that she would not sit in the restaurant. I suggested laying the seats down in our van and eating in the parking lot. He happily agreed, even though that meant a good fifteen minutes of cleaning out the van before we could lay the seats down. He happily sang the "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore..." song (which Layla has since named "the pizza picnic song"). He is great at turning little moments into fun memories that I know the kids and I will cherish for a lifetime.
Speaking of our van, I love that he doesn't care that I dinged the door the first week we had it. Or that I unknowingly was denting the back of it up every time I closed it in the wrong spot. It wasn't until I noticed it and said "Our van has a bunch of little dents in it in the back" that he told me what it was from. He doesn't say anything when he opens the side door and a ton of toys, marshmallows, and sippy cups come cascading out at him (even though if you look in his car it is typically pristine and orderly).
He is an amazing husband. He knows me. He knows that I lose everything. He gave me a key finder for Christmas that came with two key chains. When I offered one to him he said that he got one for my keys and one for my wallet. I loved that gift the most this year, simply because it was a reminder of how much he knows me. He knows that I hate to pump gas, and he tries to make sure that I never have to do that. He knows that I worry if I call him and he doesn't answer, so he will text me right away and let me know why he can't answer his phone. He knows that when we go on a date I will inevitably ask "do you think they'll be okay?" at least ten times before we get to the end of the street, and he answers "yes, they'll be just fine" every single time. He knows that I love taking the first drink of a soda right after it has been opened, and without even thinking he will open his drink and hand it to me.
I love that I know him. I know he hates to have bare feet, and it goes beyond hating it to simply not being able to do it if tile is involved. I know that he claims garlic makes him sick, but I can sneak it into certain dishes without him knowing. I know that cilantro really does make him sick. I know that he doesn't like sweets, but if he decides to have them he eats an abnormally large amount of them in one sitting (a whole box of ice cream drumsticks). I know that he is allergic to shellfish, but he loves crab legs. I know that he has to have his socks, belt, and shoes match his outfit. I know that he hates to have gel in his hair when he sleeps. I know that if he falls asleep on his back he will inevitably snore, and when I wake him up to ask him to roll over, there is a good chance he will fall back to sleep before he actually rolls over. I know he loves mafia movies. I know he would do anything for me and our kids.
He is such a generous person. In fact, he is the most generous person I have ever met. He does not have any of the "take care of myself first" mentality. He makes sure the kids and I have what we need and want, and then he would literally give away every last penny if I would let him. Not only does he give money or material goods to people, but he generously gives of his time. He is truly concerned with the welfare of others. That is one of the things that makes him so great at what he does. He works for a company that provides living assistance to individuals with mental handicaps. There are days (and these days are often) that he works really long hours, and then when the weekends come around he will usually get at least eight work related calls over the weekend. I know he misses me and the kids, but I also know that he is really doing everything he can for the individuals he serves. I know he cares about them and wants to make a difference in their lives. He is good at his job, and it is because he is doing something that is important to him, helping others.
He is hilarious. Seriously. And to be honest, there are times when I hate it. I hate it when I want to be mad but he does some little thing that makes me laugh. I hate it when he won't stop teasing me, and I can't help but laugh at him, which then makes him only tease that much more. But I love it. I love that he can get an entire room to laugh. I love that he has an unbelievably quick response, and I love his form of sarcasm.
He has a strong and sold testimony of the the gospel of Jesus Christ. He believes in Christ and the atonement with a surety that cannot be shaken. He knows that it is through this act, this act of complete and total unselfish love given to us by our Savior, that we can repent and return to live as a family with our Heavenly Father. And he wants to share this knowledge. He wants everyone to know of the happiness that comes with this knowledge. He served a mission in Taiwan and was an amazing missionary. He loved his mission president and the mission president's wife, and they loved him. I have had the opportunity to meet with his mission president twice, and I love to hear him talk about Kelly. I love Kelly's stories from his mission. I love that he taught me the gospel, not only by answering my questions, but by showing me how to live it. By showing me exactly what he believes by his actions.
I love my husband, and I am so very grateful for him. He helps me every day to become the person and the mother I want to be. And he doesn't mention all the many times that I fall short of where I want to be.
Thanks for letting me share a little bit about the amazing man that I married. Tell me a little bit about your husband or wife, or if you are not married about someone important in your life. What do you know about them that no one else does? I love that, those little intimate details that seem like they are something so simple, that no one else knows. Those small things are the things that make me realize that while our relationship isn't perfect, it is ours and it is what we make it.
My husband, Kelly, is an amazing father. He loves his kids with such devotion, I think he thinks they can do anything (and rightly so, I think this too). They absolutely adore him. In fact, when Layla woke up from surgery, she did not want me, but her she screamed her head off for her Dad. In fact, it was so awful that they let me take her out of recovery early and into the waiting room to be with her dad (who was in the waiting room because they would not allow Cal into recovery). When he leaves for work in the morning I hear for a good, solid thirty minutes, "Oh, Daddy. My Daddy. Daddy is gone. I miss Daddy." from Layla. On bad days, she stands at the door and cries. Cal lights up when he sees him. Of course, "dada" was his first word, and it seemed as though he knew what it meant from the moment he said it. The first time he said it he was looking right at Kelly. Kelly puts fatherhood as one of his highest priorities. He makes sure our kids know him, and know that he loves them.
He is wonderful at making memories. For mother's day we tried a new pizza place that I had been dying to try. When we were seated the man at the table to the side of us was wearing a shirt with a skeleton on it. It scared Layla so bad that she would not sit in the restaurant. I suggested laying the seats down in our van and eating in the parking lot. He happily agreed, even though that meant a good fifteen minutes of cleaning out the van before we could lay the seats down. He happily sang the "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore..." song (which Layla has since named "the pizza picnic song"). He is great at turning little moments into fun memories that I know the kids and I will cherish for a lifetime.
Speaking of our van, I love that he doesn't care that I dinged the door the first week we had it. Or that I unknowingly was denting the back of it up every time I closed it in the wrong spot. It wasn't until I noticed it and said "Our van has a bunch of little dents in it in the back" that he told me what it was from. He doesn't say anything when he opens the side door and a ton of toys, marshmallows, and sippy cups come cascading out at him (even though if you look in his car it is typically pristine and orderly).
He is an amazing husband. He knows me. He knows that I lose everything. He gave me a key finder for Christmas that came with two key chains. When I offered one to him he said that he got one for my keys and one for my wallet. I loved that gift the most this year, simply because it was a reminder of how much he knows me. He knows that I hate to pump gas, and he tries to make sure that I never have to do that. He knows that I worry if I call him and he doesn't answer, so he will text me right away and let me know why he can't answer his phone. He knows that when we go on a date I will inevitably ask "do you think they'll be okay?" at least ten times before we get to the end of the street, and he answers "yes, they'll be just fine" every single time. He knows that I love taking the first drink of a soda right after it has been opened, and without even thinking he will open his drink and hand it to me.
I love that I know him. I know he hates to have bare feet, and it goes beyond hating it to simply not being able to do it if tile is involved. I know that he claims garlic makes him sick, but I can sneak it into certain dishes without him knowing. I know that cilantro really does make him sick. I know that he doesn't like sweets, but if he decides to have them he eats an abnormally large amount of them in one sitting (a whole box of ice cream drumsticks). I know that he is allergic to shellfish, but he loves crab legs. I know that he has to have his socks, belt, and shoes match his outfit. I know that he hates to have gel in his hair when he sleeps. I know that if he falls asleep on his back he will inevitably snore, and when I wake him up to ask him to roll over, there is a good chance he will fall back to sleep before he actually rolls over. I know he loves mafia movies. I know he would do anything for me and our kids.
He is such a generous person. In fact, he is the most generous person I have ever met. He does not have any of the "take care of myself first" mentality. He makes sure the kids and I have what we need and want, and then he would literally give away every last penny if I would let him. Not only does he give money or material goods to people, but he generously gives of his time. He is truly concerned with the welfare of others. That is one of the things that makes him so great at what he does. He works for a company that provides living assistance to individuals with mental handicaps. There are days (and these days are often) that he works really long hours, and then when the weekends come around he will usually get at least eight work related calls over the weekend. I know he misses me and the kids, but I also know that he is really doing everything he can for the individuals he serves. I know he cares about them and wants to make a difference in their lives. He is good at his job, and it is because he is doing something that is important to him, helping others.
He is hilarious. Seriously. And to be honest, there are times when I hate it. I hate it when I want to be mad but he does some little thing that makes me laugh. I hate it when he won't stop teasing me, and I can't help but laugh at him, which then makes him only tease that much more. But I love it. I love that he can get an entire room to laugh. I love that he has an unbelievably quick response, and I love his form of sarcasm.
He has a strong and sold testimony of the the gospel of Jesus Christ. He believes in Christ and the atonement with a surety that cannot be shaken. He knows that it is through this act, this act of complete and total unselfish love given to us by our Savior, that we can repent and return to live as a family with our Heavenly Father. And he wants to share this knowledge. He wants everyone to know of the happiness that comes with this knowledge. He served a mission in Taiwan and was an amazing missionary. He loved his mission president and the mission president's wife, and they loved him. I have had the opportunity to meet with his mission president twice, and I love to hear him talk about Kelly. I love Kelly's stories from his mission. I love that he taught me the gospel, not only by answering my questions, but by showing me how to live it. By showing me exactly what he believes by his actions.
I love my husband, and I am so very grateful for him. He helps me every day to become the person and the mother I want to be. And he doesn't mention all the many times that I fall short of where I want to be.
Thanks for letting me share a little bit about the amazing man that I married. Tell me a little bit about your husband or wife, or if you are not married about someone important in your life. What do you know about them that no one else does? I love that, those little intimate details that seem like they are something so simple, that no one else knows. Those small things are the things that make me realize that while our relationship isn't perfect, it is ours and it is what we make it.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
To Mothers
I am so bummed that I let a month go by without blogging! I have been so busy, but so have all of you so I won't bore you with my details! :)
Because this blog is all about being a mama, I could not let mother's day go unmentioned. This post is for moms everywhere!
For new moms who have so much excitement and nerves all bundled into one. Who have tiny, precious, quiet bundles that are all frog legs and yawns. I know you hear this a million times a day, but they grow up so fast. Honestly, I can't reconcile Layla and brand-new baby Layla as the same person. You will never look back and say, "I held them too much when they were babies." Kelly and I literally held Layla and Cal every single possible second, and it still isn't enough. I love my kids and who they are becoming, but oh there are times when I would love to go back to those snuggly newborn days. My other piece of advice (not that you need it) is to trust your insticts. You are the mom, which automatically gives you some innate capability of understanding your children and what they need. Go with it. And even with this innate ability, there will still be times when you want to throw your hands up in the air and say "I don't get it. I give up." Don't worry, if you feel that way so does everyone else. And you know what? You won't give up. Because you are a mother. You are strong. And you know that this will pass and your child will feel your love all the more for you enduring the difficult times. You can do it.
To moms of toddlers, oh how I feel for you! You are brave, brave women! It takes so much to tackle these days head on. There are times when I want to crawl under my covers and tell Layla, "You go ahead and run the house" But who am I kidding? I don't have to crawl under the covers, Layla runs the house whether I'm there or not! And I love it! I love the chaos. I love the craziness. The happy-to-mad-to-happy-again all in fifteen seconds. It is the toughest thing I have ever done, but I know what it is making me become. I know that if I can make it through this there will eventually be some sort of peace, even if only for a moment. You moms of toddlers rock! You make crazy meals of space ships (chicken nuggets), magic sticks (carrots), trees (what else? Broccoli), and every other sort of thing your toddler can imagine because you know that crazy named food is so much more fun to eat than regular food. You clean up five million messes, and that is just before breakfast. You find ways to amuse your toddler while shopping, in fact the entire store at some point has probably heard your rendition of "The Wheels on the Bus", sung by various items of produce and shampoo. You all amaze me!
To mothers of school kids, I am in awe. You all are in a stage of your life that just doesn't seem fathomable to me. You are coming out of the all-the-time-mommy funk, and can I just say you look amazing! Not that you are no longer an all-the-time-mommy because you are! You champion for better education for your kids. You drive carpools.You pack lunches and cook meals and love your kids. But you are so dang beautiful in your cordinating outfits, and may I add that these clothes do not have spit-up, baby food, or finger prints on them. You wear make-up and do your hair, and I am positive that you shower a whole lot more than I do. I look up to you. You have it together. You are a long time veteran, and you know how to do it. I aspire to be more like you.
To my mother-in-law who raised twelve awesome children, inculding my amazing husband. I am grateful that she taught him the gospel. I am thankful that because of her he has faith in Jesus Christ. I am grateful that she raised my husband to have charity and compassion. I am thankful that she raised a close-knit family, and that they are my family too. I am learning that the more people who love my children, the better. And I am thankful that she loves my children.
To my mom, who was always, and still is, there to listen to me. Somehow my mom has the capability of knowing when I am feeling my worst, and she always asks the right question that makes me burst into tears. I know that even if no one else in the world will feel sorry for me, my mom will. No matter what, she will sympathize with me and then help me to try to look at the situation more positively. I am grateful for her being an awesome mema to my children and for the love she shows them!
To women who want to be mothers, but for some reason do not or cannot have children of their own, you are still a mother. It takes many people to mother a child. Layla loves and looks up to every single one of her aunts, church leaders, and teachers. You are helping to mother my children. You show amazing mothering qualities with your nurturing abilities. You have fun with my children, and for that I am forever grateful. I know I cannot understand your pain, but I do know what it is like to ache for a child of your own. I know what it is like to experience heartbreak, and disappointment. Please know that you are mothers. You are vitally important in the lives of my children.
To mothers everywhere. In all different shapes and sizes. In different stages of life. You are all so beautiful. You have so many stories to tell. So much information to share. I love talking to mothers and getting their pearls of wisdom. I have tried so many new ideas taken from other mamas, and they work! You all know your stuff. You work, you play, you get covered in pee and poo. You clean up puke. You wipe tears and noses. You do all of this with love because you know. You know you are a mother, and you know what matters. You know you are entrusted with these precious gifts from Heavenly Father. You love.
And of course, to my children. Without these two beautiful wonders I would not be who I am. They give me so much that I feel like I am cheating them, because there is no way that I am giving them as much as they are giving me. They teach me about myself, but they also teach me about humanity. It is from loving them that I am learning to be a little kinder to everyone I meet. It is because I care for them that I can care for others.
I am grateful to be a mother.
Because this blog is all about being a mama, I could not let mother's day go unmentioned. This post is for moms everywhere!
For new moms who have so much excitement and nerves all bundled into one. Who have tiny, precious, quiet bundles that are all frog legs and yawns. I know you hear this a million times a day, but they grow up so fast. Honestly, I can't reconcile Layla and brand-new baby Layla as the same person. You will never look back and say, "I held them too much when they were babies." Kelly and I literally held Layla and Cal every single possible second, and it still isn't enough. I love my kids and who they are becoming, but oh there are times when I would love to go back to those snuggly newborn days. My other piece of advice (not that you need it) is to trust your insticts. You are the mom, which automatically gives you some innate capability of understanding your children and what they need. Go with it. And even with this innate ability, there will still be times when you want to throw your hands up in the air and say "I don't get it. I give up." Don't worry, if you feel that way so does everyone else. And you know what? You won't give up. Because you are a mother. You are strong. And you know that this will pass and your child will feel your love all the more for you enduring the difficult times. You can do it.
To moms of toddlers, oh how I feel for you! You are brave, brave women! It takes so much to tackle these days head on. There are times when I want to crawl under my covers and tell Layla, "You go ahead and run the house" But who am I kidding? I don't have to crawl under the covers, Layla runs the house whether I'm there or not! And I love it! I love the chaos. I love the craziness. The happy-to-mad-to-happy-again all in fifteen seconds. It is the toughest thing I have ever done, but I know what it is making me become. I know that if I can make it through this there will eventually be some sort of peace, even if only for a moment. You moms of toddlers rock! You make crazy meals of space ships (chicken nuggets), magic sticks (carrots), trees (what else? Broccoli), and every other sort of thing your toddler can imagine because you know that crazy named food is so much more fun to eat than regular food. You clean up five million messes, and that is just before breakfast. You find ways to amuse your toddler while shopping, in fact the entire store at some point has probably heard your rendition of "The Wheels on the Bus", sung by various items of produce and shampoo. You all amaze me!
To mothers of school kids, I am in awe. You all are in a stage of your life that just doesn't seem fathomable to me. You are coming out of the all-the-time-mommy funk, and can I just say you look amazing! Not that you are no longer an all-the-time-mommy because you are! You champion for better education for your kids. You drive carpools.You pack lunches and cook meals and love your kids. But you are so dang beautiful in your cordinating outfits, and may I add that these clothes do not have spit-up, baby food, or finger prints on them. You wear make-up and do your hair, and I am positive that you shower a whole lot more than I do. I look up to you. You have it together. You are a long time veteran, and you know how to do it. I aspire to be more like you.
To my mother-in-law who raised twelve awesome children, inculding my amazing husband. I am grateful that she taught him the gospel. I am thankful that because of her he has faith in Jesus Christ. I am grateful that she raised my husband to have charity and compassion. I am thankful that she raised a close-knit family, and that they are my family too. I am learning that the more people who love my children, the better. And I am thankful that she loves my children.
To my mom, who was always, and still is, there to listen to me. Somehow my mom has the capability of knowing when I am feeling my worst, and she always asks the right question that makes me burst into tears. I know that even if no one else in the world will feel sorry for me, my mom will. No matter what, she will sympathize with me and then help me to try to look at the situation more positively. I am grateful for her being an awesome mema to my children and for the love she shows them!
To women who want to be mothers, but for some reason do not or cannot have children of their own, you are still a mother. It takes many people to mother a child. Layla loves and looks up to every single one of her aunts, church leaders, and teachers. You are helping to mother my children. You show amazing mothering qualities with your nurturing abilities. You have fun with my children, and for that I am forever grateful. I know I cannot understand your pain, but I do know what it is like to ache for a child of your own. I know what it is like to experience heartbreak, and disappointment. Please know that you are mothers. You are vitally important in the lives of my children.
To mothers everywhere. In all different shapes and sizes. In different stages of life. You are all so beautiful. You have so many stories to tell. So much information to share. I love talking to mothers and getting their pearls of wisdom. I have tried so many new ideas taken from other mamas, and they work! You all know your stuff. You work, you play, you get covered in pee and poo. You clean up puke. You wipe tears and noses. You do all of this with love because you know. You know you are a mother, and you know what matters. You know you are entrusted with these precious gifts from Heavenly Father. You love.
And of course, to my children. Without these two beautiful wonders I would not be who I am. They give me so much that I feel like I am cheating them, because there is no way that I am giving them as much as they are giving me. They teach me about myself, but they also teach me about humanity. It is from loving them that I am learning to be a little kinder to everyone I meet. It is because I care for them that I can care for others.
I am grateful to be a mother.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Changed but Not Ruined
Last week I was with my husband, Kelly, and we stopped in to get his hair cut. While we were there Layla asked to get her hair cut. When Kelly was done the girl that did his hair took Layla back. I went back to help her get all situated in the chair. While I was helping her the guy behind us mentioned to his client what a cute kid Layla is. That totally set his client off on how she is so glad she's not a grandma. She said she discussed with her daughter all the reasons her daughter should wait to have kids, including the reason that kids ruin your life. It was so hard for me to not turn around and say, "You said what to your daughter?" Imagine your mother telling you that kids will ruin your life?
My kids have changed my life. Changed it in every way possible, big ways, small ways, monumental ways. Ways that I still can't even understand. But ruined? No way. Never. They have taught me so much already. In fact, in their short little lives they have already turned into my greatest teachers.
They have taught me a new language. For instance, when Cal starts screaming and the screams end higher than they started, it means he's hungry. When he laughs and gasps at the same time, it means he wants me to put my face close to his and let him give me a kiss on my cheek. When Layla tells me she wants a blue drink it means she wants Gatorade, unless we're at Target. A blue drink at Target means an icee, and it doesn't mean it has to be blue. She also likes red blue drinks. If she's eating a corn dog and she says she wants it cut ty ty, that means she wants me to cut it in half and then into pieces with a knife with a pink handle (yes, it has to be the pink handled knife).
They have taught me patience. By walking with Cal in the middle of the night when he refuses to sleep (mind you, this is usually around 1am, right after his night owl sis has gone to sleep) I learn patience. Patience that I never knew existed. When Layla is screaming for the zillionth time in one day, I learn patience. Not that I am perfectly patient every time, but I am learning, and thankfully my kids are forgiving.
I have also learned strength from my children. They have shown me that I possess so much more strength than I ever knew I had. The strength to stand up for them, and ensure that they have a voice. The strength to battle with doctors and nurses for Layla to make sure that her symptoms are understood and her doctors will respond appropriately. Strength to leave Layla in nursery and stand outside the door while I listen to her cry, when all I want to do is swoop in there and scoop her up (thankfully she loves nursery now and doesn't cry anymore). Strength to make good decisions that I know will benefit them, even if they are difficult now. Plus, they have taught me that I really do have the physical strength to walk through the parking lot holding 24 lbs Layla with one arm and 16 lbs Cal with the other, along with a diaper bag and groceries. :)
Mostly, they have taught me about love. Love that I never could have imagined. Love that brings tears to my eyes just to think about it. Love that means I don't cringe when Layla throws up on me because she doesn't know how to throw up in the toilet yet. Love that means I can get up and snuggle with Cal and enjoy time when it is just him and I when he wakes up early, even though I have only been asleep for about 2 hours. Love that teaches me about Heavenly Father, and how He loves not only me, but my children. How He loves us all, with a love even stronger than how we love our kids. This love that He has for me, for us all, is a hard concept to grasp, but loving my kids has made it a little more understandable.
I am so grateful for them, and all that they teach me. I hope that somewhere in there, I am teaching them too. So do kids ruin your life? Never. They change it every day. Each day I am a different person because of them. Would I trade it? Not for anything. I love them, and even on bad days, they are my greatest joy. They bring Kelly and I so much happiness and laughter, I could not imagine, I do not want to imagine, what my life would be like without them.
So fifty year old lady in the Hello Kitty shirt, leopard print pants, and fedora, guess what? Your daughter did not ruin your life. Her children will not ruin your life, or hers. Perhaps it is time to do away with the wardrobe not even a fifteen year old should have, and move on. Let your daughter, and if one day she has kids, your grandchildren change you. It is amazing how much love kids give when they are shown a little bit in return.
My kids have changed my life. Changed it in every way possible, big ways, small ways, monumental ways. Ways that I still can't even understand. But ruined? No way. Never. They have taught me so much already. In fact, in their short little lives they have already turned into my greatest teachers.
They have taught me a new language. For instance, when Cal starts screaming and the screams end higher than they started, it means he's hungry. When he laughs and gasps at the same time, it means he wants me to put my face close to his and let him give me a kiss on my cheek. When Layla tells me she wants a blue drink it means she wants Gatorade, unless we're at Target. A blue drink at Target means an icee, and it doesn't mean it has to be blue. She also likes red blue drinks. If she's eating a corn dog and she says she wants it cut ty ty, that means she wants me to cut it in half and then into pieces with a knife with a pink handle (yes, it has to be the pink handled knife).
They have taught me patience. By walking with Cal in the middle of the night when he refuses to sleep (mind you, this is usually around 1am, right after his night owl sis has gone to sleep) I learn patience. Patience that I never knew existed. When Layla is screaming for the zillionth time in one day, I learn patience. Not that I am perfectly patient every time, but I am learning, and thankfully my kids are forgiving.
I have also learned strength from my children. They have shown me that I possess so much more strength than I ever knew I had. The strength to stand up for them, and ensure that they have a voice. The strength to battle with doctors and nurses for Layla to make sure that her symptoms are understood and her doctors will respond appropriately. Strength to leave Layla in nursery and stand outside the door while I listen to her cry, when all I want to do is swoop in there and scoop her up (thankfully she loves nursery now and doesn't cry anymore). Strength to make good decisions that I know will benefit them, even if they are difficult now. Plus, they have taught me that I really do have the physical strength to walk through the parking lot holding 24 lbs Layla with one arm and 16 lbs Cal with the other, along with a diaper bag and groceries. :)
Mostly, they have taught me about love. Love that I never could have imagined. Love that brings tears to my eyes just to think about it. Love that means I don't cringe when Layla throws up on me because she doesn't know how to throw up in the toilet yet. Love that means I can get up and snuggle with Cal and enjoy time when it is just him and I when he wakes up early, even though I have only been asleep for about 2 hours. Love that teaches me about Heavenly Father, and how He loves not only me, but my children. How He loves us all, with a love even stronger than how we love our kids. This love that He has for me, for us all, is a hard concept to grasp, but loving my kids has made it a little more understandable.
I am so grateful for them, and all that they teach me. I hope that somewhere in there, I am teaching them too. So do kids ruin your life? Never. They change it every day. Each day I am a different person because of them. Would I trade it? Not for anything. I love them, and even on bad days, they are my greatest joy. They bring Kelly and I so much happiness and laughter, I could not imagine, I do not want to imagine, what my life would be like without them.
So fifty year old lady in the Hello Kitty shirt, leopard print pants, and fedora, guess what? Your daughter did not ruin your life. Her children will not ruin your life, or hers. Perhaps it is time to do away with the wardrobe not even a fifteen year old should have, and move on. Let your daughter, and if one day she has kids, your grandchildren change you. It is amazing how much love kids give when they are shown a little bit in return.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Unstructured
I like my posts to be structured. I like them to have an obvious subject. I like that we can discuss this subject, and you can give me your feedback. Tonight, I have no structure. I am structureless. Unstructured.
That's how I'm feeling in my life lately. Unstructured, and to be honest, I'm not really sure why. Have you all experienced it? That funk, where you just feel like you are at a standstill. It's like you have so many different paths and you just stand there staring at them, unmoving. And while you stand there staring, these paths get further and further away. And you know, just know, that one of them is good. One of those paths is so spectacularly wonderful and you desperately want to be on it. But here's the catch, they all look the same at the beginning. So you're standing there, motionless, and these paths are somehow moving further away from you and you just want to scream "Stop! Just give me a minute to decide which path I want to take!"
But you can't. And even if you could, the paths wouldn't listen. So you you just have to make up your mind. And you know what? Eventually you realize, they are all wonderful. Some may take you to unexpected places, some might be a little rougher than others, but they will all teach you. And you will reach the destination if you keep trying. Some paths might lead you right back to where you started. But that's okay. You just need to learn some more.
That's what this is all about, learning. We learn every day. And I am learning to see the beauty in everything. I can see the obvious beauty in my daughter's strawberry stained smile, with her curly hair standing out all around her head like a little Einstein. I can see the beauty in my son's laughter and huge grin, when I just know that he is truly enjoying the moment and feeling only love. And then there is the less obvious beauty. Things like the beauty of heartache. When it hurts so bad, you think this pain can't possibly last one single second more. But it does. And you learn you can survive. There's beauty in that. Beauty in the new found strength, and beauty in the knowledge that you can do it.
So here's to the path, whichever one you choose. Here's to the long way, and the bumpy road. Here's to even getting lost a few times and having to start over. Here's to learning. Just know, you aren't on that path alone. We're all there. We are all sharing this experience together, for better or worse.
Maybe I do have a little bit of structure tonight after all.
That's how I'm feeling in my life lately. Unstructured, and to be honest, I'm not really sure why. Have you all experienced it? That funk, where you just feel like you are at a standstill. It's like you have so many different paths and you just stand there staring at them, unmoving. And while you stand there staring, these paths get further and further away. And you know, just know, that one of them is good. One of those paths is so spectacularly wonderful and you desperately want to be on it. But here's the catch, they all look the same at the beginning. So you're standing there, motionless, and these paths are somehow moving further away from you and you just want to scream "Stop! Just give me a minute to decide which path I want to take!"
But you can't. And even if you could, the paths wouldn't listen. So you you just have to make up your mind. And you know what? Eventually you realize, they are all wonderful. Some may take you to unexpected places, some might be a little rougher than others, but they will all teach you. And you will reach the destination if you keep trying. Some paths might lead you right back to where you started. But that's okay. You just need to learn some more.
That's what this is all about, learning. We learn every day. And I am learning to see the beauty in everything. I can see the obvious beauty in my daughter's strawberry stained smile, with her curly hair standing out all around her head like a little Einstein. I can see the beauty in my son's laughter and huge grin, when I just know that he is truly enjoying the moment and feeling only love. And then there is the less obvious beauty. Things like the beauty of heartache. When it hurts so bad, you think this pain can't possibly last one single second more. But it does. And you learn you can survive. There's beauty in that. Beauty in the new found strength, and beauty in the knowledge that you can do it.
So here's to the path, whichever one you choose. Here's to the long way, and the bumpy road. Here's to even getting lost a few times and having to start over. Here's to learning. Just know, you aren't on that path alone. We're all there. We are all sharing this experience together, for better or worse.
Maybe I do have a little bit of structure tonight after all.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Fearless
I have so many questions today, but before I get to them I have to take a minute to tell you what I did this past week! I'm so excited because it was crafty and messy! Layla and I made these adorable little chicks in a nest, out of peeps and chocolate covered pretzels. But that's not all, we also made yummy cake pops (which I proceeded to eat way too many of) that looked like Easter eggs. They were dipped in white chocolate and then Layla painted them with different colors of chocolate. I was covered in chocolate, as was Layla, and just to show you how crazy it got, Cal was even covered with chocolate at one point (much to his delight)! The best part? It was fun and I didn't flip out over the mess! Score one for mom!
Okay, with that out of the way...How do you raise fearless children? Do you even want to? I have thought about these questions a lot lately as I watch my sweet Layla growing up. Right now she, like pretty much every two year old, is fearless. I mean the mom's-having-yet-another-heart-attack fearless. The you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me-get-down-from-there-this-instant fearless. To be honest, I love her even more for her reckless abandon.
My husband, Kelly, and I were talking about how we want to raise our kids. I am a majorly fearful person. I have so much anxiety over the simplest things. If there's something to worry about, rest assured I've got that covered. I wish it were different, but that's just me, that's always been me. I remember being scared to death in elementary school that my mom would forget me and I would be stuck at school forever (just so you know, I was never forgotten, that is so not my mom, but I worried nonetheless).
It seemed to me like my worry was always justified. For example, again in elementary school I was always too afraid to buy my lunch. I just had my mom pack me a lunch every day because I was unsure of how to buy school lunches. I will never forget that the one day I decided to buy my lunch was the day that the prices of lunches went up a dime. Our teacher explained that to us in the morning and told us it was okay if we didn't have enough money that day, but that we would need to bring the right amount from then on. I was so upset, I think I cried until lunch was over. Ridiculous, right?
As a mom these fears have grown. You know what I'm talking about. Will my children be good people? Will they contribute to society? What if I don't like who they marry? What if the who they marry doesn't like me? Will they get picked on in school? Will they get good grades? How will we afford college? How can I survive the two years my son will be gone on his mission? Will they know how much I love them? Will they know how much Heavenly Father loves them?
Oh, these fears are so much more real than buying a school lunch. The trick is to keep them from overtaking you. I know, I have those moments. Those moments when the fear is so real that it's right there in your throat, choking you. Those moments when I look into Layla's sweet eyes and know someday she will come to me with a broken heart, and I won't be able to fix it. The fear when I look at Cal and can see him in the future, asking girls on dates and driving.
But how do I keep my kids from having all the silly little fears that didn't seem so silly and little when I was a kid? I always thought that some fear was healthy, but then I had a really amazing conversation with Kelly, who wants our kids to be fearless. When he said this I have to admit, I lost it. I started shrieking at him about how fear can provide safety. He explained that he thinks knowledge can do the same thing, only more effectively than fear. It makes sense. He wants, and I ended up agreeing, our kids to know consequences and reality, but to not be afraid.
How do you feel about this? Do you think it is good to have a little bit of fear? Does it keep life balanced? If so, how do you keep it from getting out of control? What about being fearless? Do you think that is possible?
Oh yeah, those moments I mentioned? The ones where fear is strangling me? I have learned how to tell fear that my family rocks, and no matter what, we are all going to be just fine.
Okay, with that out of the way...How do you raise fearless children? Do you even want to? I have thought about these questions a lot lately as I watch my sweet Layla growing up. Right now she, like pretty much every two year old, is fearless. I mean the mom's-having-yet-another-heart-attack fearless. The you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me-get-down-from-there-this-instant fearless. To be honest, I love her even more for her reckless abandon.
My husband, Kelly, and I were talking about how we want to raise our kids. I am a majorly fearful person. I have so much anxiety over the simplest things. If there's something to worry about, rest assured I've got that covered. I wish it were different, but that's just me, that's always been me. I remember being scared to death in elementary school that my mom would forget me and I would be stuck at school forever (just so you know, I was never forgotten, that is so not my mom, but I worried nonetheless).
It seemed to me like my worry was always justified. For example, again in elementary school I was always too afraid to buy my lunch. I just had my mom pack me a lunch every day because I was unsure of how to buy school lunches. I will never forget that the one day I decided to buy my lunch was the day that the prices of lunches went up a dime. Our teacher explained that to us in the morning and told us it was okay if we didn't have enough money that day, but that we would need to bring the right amount from then on. I was so upset, I think I cried until lunch was over. Ridiculous, right?
As a mom these fears have grown. You know what I'm talking about. Will my children be good people? Will they contribute to society? What if I don't like who they marry? What if the who they marry doesn't like me? Will they get picked on in school? Will they get good grades? How will we afford college? How can I survive the two years my son will be gone on his mission? Will they know how much I love them? Will they know how much Heavenly Father loves them?
Oh, these fears are so much more real than buying a school lunch. The trick is to keep them from overtaking you. I know, I have those moments. Those moments when the fear is so real that it's right there in your throat, choking you. Those moments when I look into Layla's sweet eyes and know someday she will come to me with a broken heart, and I won't be able to fix it. The fear when I look at Cal and can see him in the future, asking girls on dates and driving.
But how do I keep my kids from having all the silly little fears that didn't seem so silly and little when I was a kid? I always thought that some fear was healthy, but then I had a really amazing conversation with Kelly, who wants our kids to be fearless. When he said this I have to admit, I lost it. I started shrieking at him about how fear can provide safety. He explained that he thinks knowledge can do the same thing, only more effectively than fear. It makes sense. He wants, and I ended up agreeing, our kids to know consequences and reality, but to not be afraid.
How do you feel about this? Do you think it is good to have a little bit of fear? Does it keep life balanced? If so, how do you keep it from getting out of control? What about being fearless? Do you think that is possible?
Oh yeah, those moments I mentioned? The ones where fear is strangling me? I have learned how to tell fear that my family rocks, and no matter what, we are all going to be just fine.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Mommy Messes
I have a hard time dealing with the mess that comes with kids. In fact, I think that is the hardest thing about motherhood for me right now. I loathe the clean up that comes with meal time. And saying it out loud makes me feel like a bad mom. I have seen a gazillion moms hand a messy item over to their kids no problem and then clean them up in one quick swipe with a wipe, and somehow their kids are miraculously clean afterwards. I lack that mom gene. I cringe anytime I give my daughter anything messy (which at two is everything). I shudder when food rolls out of my son's mouth and into his neck. Am I the only mom who feels the overwhelming need to hose my kids down outside every time they eat? Layla had mac and cheese for lunch today and it was all over her hands, face, belly, legs...everywhere. Oh, and those moms who can get their kids squeaky clean with one quick wipe? How do they do it? It is a twenty minute ordeal for me! A twenty minute, scrubbing (from me), screaming (from Layla and Cal), patience losing (from all of us) ordeal. The best part? Finding dried nasty food in between their fingers just a few minutes later.
Oh the joys of motherhood. But I love it. I would love it more without the mess, but I do love it. I know all of you do too, that is what makes us want to do more and be more for our kids. I really want to hear from you, hear your thoughts and ideas, so if you are reading please keep commenting! I loved all of last week’s comments. It is comforting to hear that I am not alone in feeling a little behind! What was your week like?
Mine was spent cleaning up messes, food messes, art messes, poop messes (yes, that is plural for poop messes, and don't ask, I shudder even thinking about it). How do you handle all of the mess? What's your Mom secret for cleaning up? I know you all have some good tricks up your sleeve! How do you keep from constantly following along behind your kids wiping their hands off? Let me know, I need some major help in this area!
By the way, because it is just too sweet to pass up, last night a sleepy Layla was snuggled up next to me and just before she drifted off to sleep she looked up at me with her adorable big brown eyes and said, "I love you so much Mom." I live for moments like that. Those moments make everything better, even dried food between the fingers.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Here it is...
So here it is. I've been wanting to do a public blog for quite some time, but my two kiddos have had other plans for me. I saw an opportunity this morning and seized the moment! My daughter, Layla, who is two is currently occupied with rocking on the stool on the glider and screaming "Wee! I'm flying!" and Cal, my six month old son, is hanging out happily playing in his walker. I am certain that as soon as I get into this blog all chaos will erupt!
So why a public blog? I have a private blog that I share with friends and family already (okay, let's be honest here, I hardly ever update it anymore). I want something bigger. I want to hear your opinions on being a parent, on wanting to be a parent, on not wanting to be a parent. I want ideas on how to make home life run smoother. I want input from all of you (hopefully there will eventually be some readers to constitute "all of you").
So who am I? I am a 27 year old mother of two. I have been married for eight years. I have an adorable two year old little girl who is constantly keeping me guessing. Just when I think I have her figured out, her mood changes and I'm left wondering who this little stranger is! I also have an easy going 6 month old boy, Cal. He is such a mellow guy, except when 5am rolls around! Then he is up and ready for the day!
I have an amazing husband, who I adore (even though he drives me crazy a good portion of the time)! He is going to school full time and working full time, and I hardly ever see him. He is an amazing dad, and both of my kids head over heels about him.
I am LDS, and my faith and religion are very important to me, so as we continue on this blogging journey I am sure you will hear more about that as well.
Basically, I am mom who is constantly trying to keep up. I want to be the kind of mom that can see a learning opportunity in every situation. Who takes beautiful photographs of her kids every day. Who takes the time to do fun crafts and baking projects with her kids. In truth, I am struggling to keep up, always feeling like I am one step behind. I think of taking pictures, but then spend thirty minutes looking for my camera and once I find it the moment is gone. But I'm learning. I'm growing. It's never too late to be the mom, wife, and woman I want to be.
So here is my question to you. Who are you? What do you want out of life? Who do you want to be? Leave a comment!
By the way, that chaos I was talking about...oh yeah, it's happening. Layla is sticking her toy thermometer in Cal's face while trying to listen to his heart. Meanwhile, he is shrieking and she is saying "Be quiet, I need to do something!" to him. Welcome to my life :)
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