Brave

Several days ago two inmates escaped from a correctional facility in Lexington.  They were last spotted near Louisville.  More specifically, they were very near Grammy and Pawpaw's house (a fairly remote and wooded area).  Grammy called to warn me not to stop by with the kids.

How exciting!  Parker is constantly asking me to tell him stories about bad guys, jail, escapes, arrests, etc.  I couldn't wait to tell him!  I know this probably sounds awful or bizarre to some people.  However, if you really knew Parker, you would realize this real-life story was about the best thing since sliced bread. 

I was able to spin it in such a way that he would realize we were not in any danger.  It was pure excitement.  I finished by saying the police might need some help catching these crooks.

His eyes were as wide as saucers.  A grin played on his lips.  "Oh!  Hold on!" he exclaimed.  He took off like a shot and headed for the basement playroom.  When he emerged, he was a sight!

Shin guards on his legs, a quiver holding an arrow (with no tip), a bow, two flexible wooden train track pieces dangling from his shoulders, and his favorite "flag" socks with stars and stripes [very patriotic].  After I took his picture he added a plastic headset with earphones and a microphone (so he could remain in contact with the police).

He quickly explained that he would shoot the bad guys' tires, rush in, tie up their feet with the train tracks, and call the police for backup.  Good plan.  He insisted we call Grammy and get details.  "What kind of getaway car were they driving?"  After learning it was long and black, we went outside to scope out his hiding spot.  He settled on the screened in porch and set up a plastic tub as a shield.  Then he decided he needed a more thorough command center.  Soon our back porch was littered with rocks, plastic swords, a Thomas the Train pop-up tent, a plastic Jack-o-lantern he named Lancy, and other essentials.  He sat and scanned the traffic [about 1 car every 5 minutes] for over half an hour.  Every few minutes, I would get a status report: "I saw a car, but it wasn't black, Mommy."  "I saw a black car, but it wasn't long."  "I saw a red car." 

We took a break to go to Costco to buy diapers for Jack.  Parker was pretty sure the crooks were inside the store.  He took all of his gear, just in case.  He told anyone who would listen about his important mission.  Then he decided the entire store might just be a trap set for us by the bad guys.  Convinced they were in cahoots with the employees, he eyed the workers suspiciously.  We barely escaped. 

Back at home, the scouting continued.  Parker explained he would really like a medal from the police (if he caught the bad guys).  I pondered aloud that they might already be in custody.  He looked so disappointed. 

"Oh...But Honey, they might just give you a medal anyway."

He glanced up at me, unsure.

"Yeah!  You know, most people aren't nearly as brave as you are.  Most people, if they found out some bad guys were in their neighborhood, well, they would just hide inside and lock their doors.  But not you!  Look how brave you are!  You are out here with all of your weapons and traps trying to catch them!  I bet if the police found out about how you tried to help, they would award you a medal of honor for your bravery."

Parker beamed.  "Can you call them right now and tell them?"

Um..."Well, let's give it some time to make sure they've actually caught the crooks."  I thought about how I could get out of this one.  "Honey, even if the police don't give you a medal, I will give you one.  I know you are really brave."

"Yes I am, Mommy!"

Time to head to the craft store...

Best times

Note:If this post seems oddly out of order that's because it is.  I started writing it over a week ago, then life (and other blog posts) happened.  Just wanted everyone to know it's not all doom and gloom in the Rausch household...


I have really been enjoying having three kids.  I am actually pretty surprised by my own positive attitude.  I'm not trying to brag.  It's taken me a long, long time to adjust to motherhood.  It has been a slow, less than graceful process.  Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time would know that!

Tonight I was thinking about the parts of my day that I enjoy the most.  I was surprised to realize that the time I tend to treasure the most is the time I am able to spend with each child individually.  I absolutely love the late evening hours.  Parker and Maddie are tucked into bed, and I can give Jack my undivided attention.  After he eats, he takes a leisurely bath.  He loves the water (so much so, that he has fallen asleep during his bath at times).  He will stare at me wide-eyed while I pour water on his little belly and sing lullabies.   I lay him on our bed and gently dry his tiny arms and legs.  We have entire conversations in coos and gurgles.  I kiss his squishy cheeks, and he rewards me with an enormous toothless grin.  After wrapping him up in soft pajamas, we play on his mat in the living room.  He has some "tummy-time." With eyes as big as saucers and raised eyebrows, he seems to surprise even himself with his upper body strength.  I cheer him on as if he were an Olympic athlete.  When I notice his brow begin to furrow in frustration, I scoop him into my arms and cuddle with him.  Finally, he is swaddled and carried up to his crib, where after a few brief cries, he drifts off to sleep.  He is amazing!

Tummy time!

                                  

Then I have time to think back on the rest of my day.  I adored my "special time" with Maddie today.  While Parker was at preschool and Jack was napping, Maddie and I just played.  We ate play food in the basement playroom.  She served the food and was quite bossy.  "No, Mommy!  Don't eat yet!  We have pway!  Gah is gweat.  Gah is good.  Wet us thank him for our food.  By his han we are fed.  Give us, Ward, our day-wee bwed.  Amen!"  I would take a pretend bite, and then if I went for another bite, she would repeat this mantra.  "No, Mommy!..."  After we ate (and prayed) for a long time, she decided it was time to do our nails.  She insisted on painting her own nails ["Because I'm a big guh-wuhl!"] and mine.  Salon-quality, let me tell you!  She was so happy to just be with me, and it warmed my heart.  She kept repeating, "Dis is Mommy-Maddie special time. Not Buddy [Parker]?"  I replied, "That's right."  "Not Jack?" she'd ask.  "Just Maddie," I smiled.

Future make-up artist

The best time of day with Parker often comes during "quiet time."  I have given up on the nap-time fight.  Parker and Maddie are sent to their rooms for "quiet time" during Jack's afternoon nap.  If they fall asleep, fine.  If they don't, fine (as long as everyone is actually quiet).  Often I will slip into Parker's room during this time.  He's always surprised to see me.  I put my finger up to my lips to let him know we have to be very quiet, so Maddie (who is directly across the hall) won't know I'm sneaking in.  "Do we get to have special time, Mommy?!" he whispers excitedly.  I grin and nod.  We play Rescue Heroes or build train tracks or read books.  Then I tuck him into his bed, snuggle up next to him and sing Silent Night (his favorite song) quietly into his ear.  He closes his eyes, murmurs, "Mama, mama, mama," sighs, and kisses my cheek.  It is the best.

First day of preschool this year

Now if only I could figure out how to be just as fun-loving and affectionate when I have all three of them together.  *Sigh*

 

Just so you know

Dear Parker & Maddie,

Sometimes I question whether or not writing this blog is a good thing.  It started out as a way to help me remember all of the day to day details of your childhood (that I feared I would forget).  I wanted to fill it with cute memories, funny stories and the like.  In fact, I have omitted several incidences that I would rather forget (either because of your bad behavior or my own). 

However, I fear that one day you may read this blog and wonder, "But what about all the bad days?"  Like today.  And sadly, many other days.  It's not that the day was all bad.  I just found myself failing over and over.  I want to write about it because I want you to understand...I want you to understand our life situation, my motivation, and what I think and feel about you.

#1.  I love you both so much that it literally makes my heart ache.  I will always love you, though I may not always like your behavior.  Your are my precious, precious gifts from God. 

#2.  Life is challenging right now, and it's not your fault.  Parker you are 4, and Maddie you are almost 3.  You are both active, strong-willed, and inquisitive.  Jack is only 2 months.  He requires a huge amount of my time and energy.  I know it's hard to be patient while he's eating and quiet while he's sleeping. 

#3.  I have the best intentions.  Like when I promise you both some "special time" and Jack wakes up early from a nap needing to eat right away.  Or when I say we will go to the park but then realize Jack hasn't had a nap in his bed all day and really needs one.  Or when I say I'll play a game with you while I'm nursing him, but your game requires me to sit on the floor and I can't find a position that doesn't break my back, so I have to move (which, according to your rules, ruins the game you've created). 

#4.  I'm sorry.  Kiddos, I'm a sinner.  Though I start out with good intentions, my own selfishness often prevails.  I snap at you.  I yell at you.  I glare at you.  I am so, so sorry.  Mommy is a work in progress.

I want you to know that after I was finally able to tuck Jack in for the night tonight (after a very, very long day), I went to each of your rooms, kissed all over your sleeping faces and whispered in your ears, "Mommy loves you.  Mommy loves you."  I want you to know it deep inside.  I want you to believe it despite my bad behavior.  I want you to remember it.  I love you. 

Roller Coaster

I think perhaps I've chosen the wrong name for our blog.  The Rausch Roller Coaster might be more accurate.  When I nurse Jack in the middle of the night, I often find myself reflecting upon the highs and lows of the day.  Our days and weeks really do seem to consist of just that...extreme highs and extreme lows.

Take Friday, for example.  The kids were so excited.  They had been waiting all week for this day.  You see, Aunt Beetle [Natalie] had graciously agreed to have us spend Friday night at her house.  We were going to celebrate her birthday (which was on Wednesday) and all go together to Applefest in a nearby town on Saturday.

Starting on Monday, the kids began to ask if it was Friday yet.  They began packing on Wednesday:
1 blankie
1 pillow
1 soft toy
2 hard [plastic] toys
tra-bull [travel] cup (a special cup daddy bought for each child that had a straw and a lid...only to be used on long trips)

This trip was going to be special.  We would not only see our beloved Aunt Natalie and Uncle John, but we would get to spend time with cousin, Sebastian.  This kids are completely in awe of this little guy.  Every time they see him, he is doing something new and amazing.  First it was smiling, then batting at toys, then babbling, crawling, walking.  They can't wait to be around him!  The vast majority of our visits have occurred when they come into town.  They live north of Cincinnati (and if you read on, you will understand exactly why we don't make the trip often).

The Thursday before the trip we had another high.  I took all 3 kids on our first ever trip to the grocery store by myself!  Even more amazing...it was a huge success!   We not only bought the ingredients for Aunt Beetle's cake, but we also purchased all the groceries we'd need for a week - with no major meltdowns. 

When we arrived at the house, we began work on the cake.  I put the kids in charge of dumping the [pre-measured] ingredients in the bowl and turning on the mixer.  In hindsight, this was not the brightest idea.  They would inevitably push the lever too hard, mixing at level 5 instead of 1.  After I was covered in flour and had wiped down the counter and floors for the umpteenth time, I decided perhaps it was best if they were responsible for turning the mixer off after each ingredient had been added.

Come Friday, we were ready!  After dropping Parker off at preschool, Grandma came to watch Maddie and Jack while I hit a huge consignment sale.  A few hours later, I returned home with Parker and a ton of fall kids' clothes.  I felt like the day couldn't get any better.  We were all giddy with excitement about the sleepover.  When I put the kids in their rooms for "quiet time" I packed the van.  I woke them early, in the hopes they'd be quiet [read: groggy] for the car ride.  That was my first big mistake. 

By the time Aaron got home, every one had been screaming and crying for an hour.  I fed Jack, and we hit the road.  Mistake #2:  Not making sure everyone had "gone potty" before we left.

We took the kids through the McDonald's drive-through for a super-healthy dinner (with the all-important toy included).  Mistake #3: Mixing the kids' juice with water and putting it in their "travel cups."  Juice box = 4 ounces.  Juice box + water = 10 ounces.  (We would soon pay for the combination of mistakes 2 & 3). 

Then we made mistake #4...Aaron and I decided we wanted a healthier option and stopped at Subway.  By the time he re-entered the car after getting our dinner, Maddie was already straining against her seat buckle, crying that she wanted to get out and asking, "How long [until] we will be there?!"

After we'd been on the expressway for about 10 minutes, the real chaos began.  "I need go potty!"  "Me, too!"  "I'm about to weak [leak]!"  "No! I'm gonna leak!"

Stop, potty, start again.  15 minutes later, repeat.  During the second stop, I purchased some popcorn and poured equal amounts into their now empty happy meal boxes with the express instructions not to spill it.  Moments later popcorn was sailing through the air.  Daddy was not happy.  Maddie was giggling defiantly.  Parker was whining, "She's throwing popcorn at me."  Useless threats ensued.  "I need go potty!"  Then traffic.  No end in sight.  "I NEED GO POTTY!!!" 

It was nearly 8:30 at night.  The car slowly inched toward the next exit.  We decided we would have to head home.  The real tears began to flow as the kids realized their dream trip had ended before it had even begun.  Cue the wailing: "NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  Then Jack began to scream.  With three crying children, we made our last potty break, cried "uncle" ourselves, and turned the van around.

Our week of joy and anticipation had come crashing down around us.  After all three kids were tucked into bed, Aaron and I sat in the living room with wide eyes, shaking our heads.  "What happened?"  How had we come to this?  There was a time when a trip to Cincinnati was a hop, skip, and a jump.  We'd listen to music, sip our drinks, perhaps the passenger would read a magazine.  Those days were certainly over. 

As I nursed Jack later that evening, I listened to the soft sighs and squeaks he made as he snuggled close.  Kissing the top of his tiny head, I thanked my lucky stars that those days were over.  I'll take my roller coaster any day.



 

Being a grown-up

This morning Parker threw Aaron under the bus...big time.
As he was drinking his milk, he said, "You know, mom, Daddy breaks all the rules."
I was wiping down the counter.  "Oh really?"

Parker: Yeah.  Last night, he gave us [pausing for effect] chocolate chips...in the living room...while we watched a show!
Me: Hmmm...
Parker: Maybe you should have a talk with him...

I chuckled.  I have to give Aaron credit.  He did, after all, take all 3 kids so that I could go to Bible study by myself last night.  It was wonderful.

I explained to Parker the order of authority in our house.  I explained that mom and dad were on the same team, and dad was kind of like the team coach.  I smiled, "One day you will be the daddy and have to make lots of decisions, too."

Parker let out an exasperated sigh.  "I know mom.  I know what it's like to be a grown-up."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah.  You have to be patient with kiddos, be kind, do good responsibility, don't mess everything up, don't knock down buildings..."

Thank goodness he understands the importance of resisting the urge to destroy buildings.  We must be doing something right.

Just Jack

Just wanted to write about a few milestones for Jack and some family dynamics...just so I remember.

He went for his 1 month check-up and weighed in at 10lbs 1oz.  He is sleeping 5-6 hours at a stretch at night and on a 2.5 - 3 hour feeding schedule during the day.  He still only cries when he is hungry or tired (very distinct cries; hungry sounds like a snorting little piggy, tired sounds like "la, la, la").  In short, he's a perfect angel.

On Sunday, right after a feeding, he looked up at me and gave me a huge open-mouthed grin.  Since then he has smiled every day.  Today (Thursday 9/8/11), he rolled over from his tummy to his back.  It surprised all of us.  Maddie and Parker had been sitting next to him on the playmat on the livingroom floor.  Once they saw it, they wanted to see it again.  We placed him back on his tummy, and Maddie tried to assist him by grabbing his stomach and rolling him.  (Poor little guy's head would have slammed back and hit the floor had I not caught it.) 

Big brother and big sister love him so much.  They still argue over who gets to take the dirty diapers to the trash.  Maddie "speaks" to him often in a language only they can understand ("goo-goo, ahhh").  Parker rinses his dropped pacifiers and places them in his mouth.  They rock him in his carseat while I get ready to go places.  They gently bounce his little chair and talk to him whenever they get the chance.  They always want to hold him and have their pictures taken with him. 

There were many times I was really worried about having three children.  Would there be enough of me to go around?  Could I possibly love another child as much as I loved Parker and Maddie?  Would he get enough attention?  Would I ever have a moment to myself again?  How on earth would I handle three on an outing by myself?

As I lay on the table for my postpartum exam, feet in the stirrups, Jack in a carseat in the corner, Parker and Maddie sharing a chair next to my head, my questions were answered.  Sometimes there is not enough of me to go around.  Of course I could (and do) love Jack as much as Parker and Maddie.  He is growing and happy and will have just enough attention.  I may get a moment to myself again...in about 18 years.  And finally, I will handle 3 on an outing by myself just fine...perhaps not with as much poise and grace as I would like, but we'll survive.

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times

So many intense and contrary emotions and situations are flooding my life right now; I feel as though I can't keep my head above water one moment and like I'm floating on cloud nine the next. I'm not sure how much of it is internal [hormonal] and how much is just plain situational. Here are some examples...

Last weekend the entire family stayed home for the majority of the weekend. This may not sound odd to some families, but my husband is such the antithesis of a homebody that 2 days after Jack came home from the hospital the whole fam-damily took a trip to Bass Pro Shop because Daddy was so stir crazy. So, when Aaron voluntarily stays home on the weekend, it's a big deal. We cleaned, played, and cleaned some more.

On Sunday evening, after all three children were tucked in bed, Aaron grinned and asked if I wanted some wine. [Is the pope Catholic?] Soon he was off to the store to buy our victory drink. When he left, I surveyed the house...a wreck. How was this possible? Oh well. I started by unloading the diaper bag (which had become stuffed beyond maximum capacity over the course of the weekend).

What the...? Why was it soaking wet? I knew we'd put some wet diapers in there, but they weren't that wet. Then it dawned on me. Breast milk (which had been pumped and left in the pump...long story) had spilled all over the inside of the bag. The bag. My brand-new, super-cute, unexpected-gift-from-Grammy, embroidered-with-Jack's-name, diaper bag! I did what any sane person would do. I lost it. I sobbed. Why, oh, why couldn't I have anything that didn't get ruined? Why couldn't I have nice things that stayed nice?

With puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I looked around the room. Dishes piled high in the sink, a full dishwasher, shoes and clothes on the floor, crumbs on the table, toys under the table. I sat in a chair and sobbed. Just then Aaron came home, wine in hand, a smile that quickly faded. "What's wrong?" he asked innocently. How dare he? Couldn't he see that we lived in filth and chaos??

"My diaper bag!" I wailed. Between sobs, I explained about the breast milk. "Well, can't you clean it?" he asked simply. I glared. "Of course I cleaned it! It's just that nothing stays nice in this house! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of toys and laundry and dishes!" I could see the vacant stare in his eyes. He was retreating to his happy place. "Forget it!" I yelled.

Then I went about the house cleaning like a maniac. While I was picking up the toys and placing them in a laundry basket, wouldn't you know it, demon doll (see previous post -http://rauschfamilycircus.blogspot.com/2011/08/demon-doll.html ) fell on the floor and began to cheer. I went to the door and launched her off the back porch onto the driveway (secretly hoping one of us might run her over in the morning). Aaron shook his head and retreated to the office [a wise move]. The crying and cleaning continued for some time.

A similar scenario was repeated the next evening. Finally, I stopped, prayed, apologized to my poor spouse, and rested.

Fast forward one day...We went to Grandma's house to visit with Gigi (Grandpa Bob's mother) who was in town from St. Louis.  I put Jack down for a nap, then was able to rest myself while the two other kids played with Grandma and Gigi.  When I awoke, I found Parker playing cops and robbers with Gigi, each taking turns shooting each other with toy guns and giggling.  Grandma was preparing a picnic lunch while Maddie worked a puzzle.  My mom never ceases to amaze and inspire me.  Rather than struggling down the steps (to the covered patio) with Gigi's walker and a bulky picnic basket, she tied the basket to a rope and lowered it over the edge of her two story deck where Parker and Maddie "caught" it.  They were ecstatic.  Parker insisted they were pirates catching treasure.  It was a delightful day.

The next day was Parker's first day of preschool - another wonderful day!  This day was filled with milestones and blessings.  I had been so nervous that things wouldn't go well.  There were so many variables...would we wake up on time [we didn't], could I get everyone dressed and fed and out the door on time [I did], would Parker get along with his classmates with whom he didn't really make a connection at orientation [he did], would he listen to and obey his teacher [undetermined].  When he bounded into the van at noon prattling on and on about his new friend, Noah, his painting, and his excitement about returning on Friday when he would be allowed to paint his hand, I knew the day had been a success.  I offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

A few short hours later, Parker and Maddie were dropped off at Grammy's house so I could take Jack to his one month appointment.  When we arrived at Grammy's, it was like Christmas in August.  She had purchased shoes for everyone in the family, save Jack (who got a hat and bib instead).  I must say, Gram has amazing taste.  These are the shoes she got for Mommy.  (Score!)

I was giddy at Jack's appointment.  It was so exciting to be at the doctor's office with just Jack.  I know it might sound silly, but after having lived far from extended family and having to take multiple children to every medical appointment (including my own), there is something wonderfully relaxing about being able to focus on one child at a time.  I was able to answer the doctor's questions and snuggle with my sweet baby boy during the entire appointment.  I could think and speak clearly without interruption.  Even more exciting than the new found focus, was Jack's progress and growth.  He is now 10 pounds, 1 ounce and has grown 1 inch in length.  He is right on track.  I don't take his perfect health for granted.  I recognize it is a blessing from God and am extremely grateful. 

So there you have it...chaos and drama juxtaposed with fabulous family and memorable milestones.  That's life right now, and for right now, I love it.