"Please stop making messes! Please stop making messes!" I shouted/sobbed, as I frantically rocked a screaming one year old a bit too vigorously on the couch. Tears streamed down my cheeks. The older two children stood timidly at the edge of the living room, watching mommy fall apart.
Yeah, I'm sure it's totally realistic for me to beg a 6 year old, 4 year old, and almost 2 year old to not make messes. May as well request they stop breathing.
Rewind 1 hour. Sweep the kitchen floor for the 3rd time today. Warn eldest son not to walk about with a pop-up tunnel over his head. "But mom, I'm just..." Crash! Tiny shards of glass from the glass he just knocked off the counter sail across the floor. "Don't move anyone!" Sweep again.
Mop the floor. Attempt to be a fun-loving, spur-the-moment mommy. Allow kids to choose dinner and help cook (since Daddy called at 3:30 to say he wouldn't be home until after bedtime. Um, did I mention I'm due with our fourth child in 2 weeks? Just sayin'.). The kids want pancakes with sprinkles? Fine. When we finish, a fine layer of pancake mix covers the counters and floor.
Sweep floor again. Turn back back to rinse dishes in the sink. "Mommy, Maddie used too many sprinkles!" [Read: Mommy, Maddie dumped an entire jar of sprinkles on our plates, the table, the floor...].
Sweep floor again. Sit to eat. Jack finishes first. "Oops!" He's climbed out of his chair and taken the lid off his sippy cup, spilling an entire cup of milk on the floor and into the pop-up tunnel (still in the kitchen for some reason).
Mop floor (alternating between ranting and praying aloud). Jack slips on wet floor and lands flat on his back, smacking his head on the tile. Screaming ensues.
And now we have arrived at the mommy tantrum. Screaming, crying, rocking a crying child. I can't blame the kids. They are just being kids. Even the pregnancy plays a role in the fatigue/raging hormones/mood swings, etc.
I decided to write this blog post tonight because I want my kids, heaven forbid they remember this time, to at least understand a bit about why their mommy seemed so crazy and moody. I love you kids so much it hurts, and I'm on my way into your rooms now to kiss your sweet (sleeping) faces!
6/26/13
6/22/13
Waiting
Dear Caleb,
I'm sorry I haven't written to you sooner, little one. Believe me, you are on my mind all the time! Much has happened in our family since we discovered you would be joining the circus...birthdays, a move to Texas from Kentucky, a trip to Virginia, you name it! Even with all of that activity, YOU are the most highly anticipated, main event in our family. We simply cannot wait to meet you!
All of your siblings are excited about your arrival. Even Jack lifts my shirt and pats "baby Cay-wib." While Maddie was initially disappointed she would not be having a baby sister, she quickly settled into her role as our "only pretty princess," and now she can't wait to push you in the stroller (since Jack screams bloody murder whenever she attempts to wheel him around). Parker is convinced you will come out ready to wrestle and join "the boys' team."
From the moment we knew you were growing inside of me, I've felt as if our family was complete. I get tearful just thinking about holding you in my arms. Precious child, you are so loved already!
See you soon, Caleb!
I'm sorry I haven't written to you sooner, little one. Believe me, you are on my mind all the time! Much has happened in our family since we discovered you would be joining the circus...birthdays, a move to Texas from Kentucky, a trip to Virginia, you name it! Even with all of that activity, YOU are the most highly anticipated, main event in our family. We simply cannot wait to meet you!
All of your siblings are excited about your arrival. Even Jack lifts my shirt and pats "baby Cay-wib." While Maddie was initially disappointed she would not be having a baby sister, she quickly settled into her role as our "only pretty princess," and now she can't wait to push you in the stroller (since Jack screams bloody murder whenever she attempts to wheel him around). Parker is convinced you will come out ready to wrestle and join "the boys' team."
From the moment we knew you were growing inside of me, I've felt as if our family was complete. I get tearful just thinking about holding you in my arms. Precious child, you are so loved already!
See you soon, Caleb!
5/30/13
Happy Belated Birthday
Dear Parker,
This post is exactly one month late. So much has happened in the last 30 days with our move to Texas, I've not had time to catch my breath and write about your special day. But believe me, son, I've been composing this in my head for a long time.
I want to tell you about your birthday but also about who you are as a six year old boy. Let's start with your party. Technically, you had 2. One on the weekend, so all your friends and family could attend, and the other on the actual day, at Chuck E Cheese, with one of your best buddies, Jack.
Your party was everything Lego. And I mean everything. Anyway, your plates had Lego faces drawn on them, you had a Lego piñata, the cakes were giant Lego blocks. You name it, it looked like a Lego. Mommy was up very late the night before the party, grumbling in the kitchen as she iced the half-marshmallow pieces that sat atop your cake. But when you stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, to see why the lights were still on, smiled in wonder at your cake, and stated, "I love you, Mommy!" it made it all worth it.
You got tons of Lego sets at your party. You started working on them immediately, barely noticing as your guest left. We saved the big sets for Dallas, so you could build them while mom, dad, and Grammy unpacked boxes.
On your actual birthday, we met your friend, Jack, and his mommy at Chuck E Cheese. You had a blast! The trip ended with you engaging a beefy teenage worker in an arm-wrestling match to see if you could win the 1,000-ticket Spiderman toy behind the counter when you only possessed 10 tickets. You won, of course, and left the restaurant with the biggest grin on your little face.
Now on to you, little man...I hardly know where to start. You are wiry and can climb anything, just like a monkey. You just learned how to ride your bike without training wheels. You lost your first tooth just days before your birthday and your second tooth two days ago. You are bursting with energy all day, every day. You are still very sensitive when you feel left out, but you put on a brave face until you are alone with mommy. When you cry, I want to punch someone in the face, but I'm trying to teach you (and me) to love your enemies. The tooth fairy, Santa, and the Easter bunny are still very real, though I've had to field some tough questions about Santa's surveillance capabilities lately. You have a love/hate relationship with your sister that brings tears of joy to my eyes one moment and makes me want to ground you until you're 30 the next. Your baby brother idolizes you. You begin talking the moment you wake up, and you don't stop until your head hits the pillow. You still actively seek out cuddle-time with mom and dad at night. You talk to God. You have trouble with your "r's" and pronounce them "ah-wuh." You have stolen my heart.
I love you, six-year-old Parker. I'm so very proud of you, son.
This post is exactly one month late. So much has happened in the last 30 days with our move to Texas, I've not had time to catch my breath and write about your special day. But believe me, son, I've been composing this in my head for a long time.
I want to tell you about your birthday but also about who you are as a six year old boy. Let's start with your party. Technically, you had 2. One on the weekend, so all your friends and family could attend, and the other on the actual day, at Chuck E Cheese, with one of your best buddies, Jack.
Your party was everything Lego. And I mean everything. Anyway, your plates had Lego faces drawn on them, you had a Lego piñata, the cakes were giant Lego blocks. You name it, it looked like a Lego. Mommy was up very late the night before the party, grumbling in the kitchen as she iced the half-marshmallow pieces that sat atop your cake. But when you stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, to see why the lights were still on, smiled in wonder at your cake, and stated, "I love you, Mommy!" it made it all worth it.
You got tons of Lego sets at your party. You started working on them immediately, barely noticing as your guest left. We saved the big sets for Dallas, so you could build them while mom, dad, and Grammy unpacked boxes.
On your actual birthday, we met your friend, Jack, and his mommy at Chuck E Cheese. You had a blast! The trip ended with you engaging a beefy teenage worker in an arm-wrestling match to see if you could win the 1,000-ticket Spiderman toy behind the counter when you only possessed 10 tickets. You won, of course, and left the restaurant with the biggest grin on your little face.
Now on to you, little man...I hardly know where to start. You are wiry and can climb anything, just like a monkey. You just learned how to ride your bike without training wheels. You lost your first tooth just days before your birthday and your second tooth two days ago. You are bursting with energy all day, every day. You are still very sensitive when you feel left out, but you put on a brave face until you are alone with mommy. When you cry, I want to punch someone in the face, but I'm trying to teach you (and me) to love your enemies. The tooth fairy, Santa, and the Easter bunny are still very real, though I've had to field some tough questions about Santa's surveillance capabilities lately. You have a love/hate relationship with your sister that brings tears of joy to my eyes one moment and makes me want to ground you until you're 30 the next. Your baby brother idolizes you. You begin talking the moment you wake up, and you don't stop until your head hits the pillow. You still actively seek out cuddle-time with mom and dad at night. You talk to God. You have trouble with your "r's" and pronounce them "ah-wuh." You have stolen my heart.
I love you, six-year-old Parker. I'm so very proud of you, son.
4/7/13
Sweet girl
Dear Maddie,
Sometimes I wish I had a video camera permanently attached to my body. I witness such sweet, tender moments between you and your brothers; I wish the whole world could see them. They make my heart swell with joy and admiration.
Today, as I was doing some yard work, I watching you and Jack out of the corner of my eye. You were such a mother hen. You constantly brought him toys, blankets, even a pillow. You asked him questions, and though his answers seemed unintelligible to me, it didn't deter you from trying to make conversation with him. "Do you like the red ball, Jack?" "Do you want your blankie?" "Wait here and I'll get your binky." "Good boy, Jack!"
You held his hand, helped him into the wagon, and played beauty shop on his head with water from the kiddie pool and a comb.
He adored your attention and care. He followed you everywhere and obeyed your instructions with a huge grin on his face.
I'm writing this in careful detail because I want you to know that you did, indeed, love each other. I have no misconceptions about your development. I realize that when the teenage years hit (or likely, sooner), there will be times when you two will not be able to stand the sight of each other.
However, in the meantime, I intend to soak up these precious moments and record them for posterity.
I'm so proud of you, sweet girl.
Sometimes I wish I had a video camera permanently attached to my body. I witness such sweet, tender moments between you and your brothers; I wish the whole world could see them. They make my heart swell with joy and admiration.
Today, as I was doing some yard work, I watching you and Jack out of the corner of my eye. You were such a mother hen. You constantly brought him toys, blankets, even a pillow. You asked him questions, and though his answers seemed unintelligible to me, it didn't deter you from trying to make conversation with him. "Do you like the red ball, Jack?" "Do you want your blankie?" "Wait here and I'll get your binky." "Good boy, Jack!"
You held his hand, helped him into the wagon, and played beauty shop on his head with water from the kiddie pool and a comb.
He adored your attention and care. He followed you everywhere and obeyed your instructions with a huge grin on his face.
I'm writing this in careful detail because I want you to know that you did, indeed, love each other. I have no misconceptions about your development. I realize that when the teenage years hit (or likely, sooner), there will be times when you two will not be able to stand the sight of each other.
However, in the meantime, I intend to soak up these precious moments and record them for posterity.
I'm so proud of you, sweet girl.
4/6/13
The Amazing Traveling RFC
You read that right. Traveling. And I don't mean on vacation. (We haven't been able to afford one of those in years!) I mean moving. Again.
We are headed to Dallas! Yippee ki-yay, my friends. (I bet you thought I'd be writing another phrase beginning with "m" and "f". Sheesh! Keep it clean, folks; this is a family blog!)
Wait a minute...Didn't we just move back "home" [to Louisville] a few short years ago? To be closer to family and to reconnect with old friends? Don't we love our new friends, church, kids' school, etc.? Soooo, why are we moving again?
Believe me, I've been praying and asking myself that same question.
This is all I can come up with: We were made this way. By God's grace, two kids from a great hometown found each other and fell in love. Over they years they discovered they both liked to travel. A lot. They even liked to relocate. Frequently. While they loved their families and hometown very much, their wanderlust remained unchanged. They even daydreamed about the mission work they might be a part of when the kids were grown and gone. Then, when God opened a new door for them in Dallas, it fanned the flames of an old desire (living abroad), and they jumped at the chance.
See, Dallas is hopefully just the beginning. It's the international headquarters for Aaron's work. After his assignment there, we might have the chance to live overseas. Can you imagine? We could be doing mission work right now...with the kids! I know that sounds nuts to some folks. Especially folks with little kids. But to us, it sounds like one heck of an adventure! What an amazing way to introduce our kids to this great big awesome world!
So buckle up, because it's time for this circus to hit the road!
We are headed to Dallas! Yippee ki-yay, my friends. (I bet you thought I'd be writing another phrase beginning with "m" and "f". Sheesh! Keep it clean, folks; this is a family blog!)
Wait a minute...Didn't we just move back "home" [to Louisville] a few short years ago? To be closer to family and to reconnect with old friends? Don't we love our new friends, church, kids' school, etc.? Soooo, why are we moving again?
Believe me, I've been praying and asking myself that same question.
This is all I can come up with: We were made this way. By God's grace, two kids from a great hometown found each other and fell in love. Over they years they discovered they both liked to travel. A lot. They even liked to relocate. Frequently. While they loved their families and hometown very much, their wanderlust remained unchanged. They even daydreamed about the mission work they might be a part of when the kids were grown and gone. Then, when God opened a new door for them in Dallas, it fanned the flames of an old desire (living abroad), and they jumped at the chance.
See, Dallas is hopefully just the beginning. It's the international headquarters for Aaron's work. After his assignment there, we might have the chance to live overseas. Can you imagine? We could be doing mission work right now...with the kids! I know that sounds nuts to some folks. Especially folks with little kids. But to us, it sounds like one heck of an adventure! What an amazing way to introduce our kids to this great big awesome world!
So buckle up, because it's time for this circus to hit the road!
3/26/13
Must-Haves
I smiled to myself as I descended the stairs. I was watching Aaron head down the hallway toward the kids' rooms with some beloved items in tow.
Teddy, Strawberry, and Bink. They are our family's must-haves right now.
Teddy is a raggedy old bear I won for Parker in a Red Robin claw machine years ago. Since that time, he has moved cross-country with us, always safely tucked under Parker's arm (or sometimes hidden away in his school backpack). Teddy is his faithful sleeping companion and playmate.
Then, of course, there's Strawberry. I believe I've posted about this particular blanket before. She used to be a beautiful, fluffy pink thing, embroidered with strawberries. Maddie has had her since birth. Any attempts at buying a back-up Strawberry would surely be met with disaster, as she is now gray and holey. Strawberry is the secret-keeper. She is the fort-maker, the make-shift doll, the best friend, all in one. A night without Strawberry is incomprehensible.
Finally, Bink. What a love-hate relationship this pacifier and I have! I tried to get rid of it too early, I'm afraid. Then the thumb-sucking began. So, I brought it back from the dead (or rather, the baby bin in the basement). Now, when it falls out of Jack's drooling little mouth in the middle of the night, oh the wailing that ensues! If I were to take it away now, Jack's frantic cries of "Bink! Bink!" might just send me over the edge. So Bink is here to stay...for now.
My heart is filled with pure joy at the thought of the importance of these simple, little items in our world right now. I know that one day they'll be replaced with other things, cell phones, Ipads, who knows what else. So, for the moment, I'll enjoy the simplicity of our treasured creature comforts and pray they don't change too soon.
Teddy, Strawberry, and Bink. They are our family's must-haves right now.
Teddy is a raggedy old bear I won for Parker in a Red Robin claw machine years ago. Since that time, he has moved cross-country with us, always safely tucked under Parker's arm (or sometimes hidden away in his school backpack). Teddy is his faithful sleeping companion and playmate.
Then, of course, there's Strawberry. I believe I've posted about this particular blanket before. She used to be a beautiful, fluffy pink thing, embroidered with strawberries. Maddie has had her since birth. Any attempts at buying a back-up Strawberry would surely be met with disaster, as she is now gray and holey. Strawberry is the secret-keeper. She is the fort-maker, the make-shift doll, the best friend, all in one. A night without Strawberry is incomprehensible.
Finally, Bink. What a love-hate relationship this pacifier and I have! I tried to get rid of it too early, I'm afraid. Then the thumb-sucking began. So, I brought it back from the dead (or rather, the baby bin in the basement). Now, when it falls out of Jack's drooling little mouth in the middle of the night, oh the wailing that ensues! If I were to take it away now, Jack's frantic cries of "Bink! Bink!" might just send me over the edge. So Bink is here to stay...for now.
My heart is filled with pure joy at the thought of the importance of these simple, little items in our world right now. I know that one day they'll be replaced with other things, cell phones, Ipads, who knows what else. So, for the moment, I'll enjoy the simplicity of our treasured creature comforts and pray they don't change too soon.
3/3/13
Slice of Life
It's one of those evenings...Nothing out of the ordinary, yet everything miraculous. I just want to document a small slice of life. Because I'm sure I'll forget. I'm sure as the days blend into months and years, I won't remember these precious little moments that make up my existence right now.
I just came downstairs from giving Maddie a breathing treatment. She has Reactive Airway Disorder (kind of like Asthma for little kids) which flares up with a bad cold or during allergy season. Right now she's on an Albuterol treatment every 4-5 hours, even through the night. One might assume this is a burden, and to be honest, it kind of felt that way the first few evenings. Then there was tonight...
She didn't even stir as I lifted her into my lap. My enormous 4 year old girl, all arms and legs and long, stringy hair. I placed the mask over her face and kicked the On button with my toe. She leaned into my chest, and I just reveled in her. In us. Cuddling as if she were still my newborn baby girl.
This weekend we learned she would be our only girl. We had a gender reveal party with our friends and family to learn the sex of the new baby. It was so exciting to cut into that cake and see the blue crumbs on the tip of the knife. While I was absolutely elated, my heart went out to Maddie, who so wanted a baby girl. I hope one day she will recognize the blessing in being our only daughter. She will forever be my favorite girl in the world, our one and only princess.
As I headed downstairs, I stopped by Parker's room. I tiptoed up to his newly constructed castle bunk bed [more on that fiasco later] and peered over the turrets. Out like a light. I kicked myself for not making the top bunk more accessible. How I miss kissing his angelic face as he sleeps! "Goodnight Parker. I love you," I whispered.
(I skipped Jack's room. Sorry, son. You're still a pretty light sleeper.)
Even as I type, our sweet baby boy is rolling around inside of me. It is the most wondrous feeling in the world. Nothing compares. I can't wait to meet this little guy and see how he fits in with the rest of the circus.
We know he's our last baby, as my husband stated, "As long as he's healthy and happy, we are shutting this operation down!" It's truly the end of an era and so bittersweet. Knowing this is my last pregnancy, I am treasuring every single moment and sensation. (I won't even let the varicose veins get me down!)
So here I sit...dishwasher running, fetus rolling, blessed beyond belief. God is so good! Thank you, dear Father, for these quiet, lovely, love-filled evenings.
I just came downstairs from giving Maddie a breathing treatment. She has Reactive Airway Disorder (kind of like Asthma for little kids) which flares up with a bad cold or during allergy season. Right now she's on an Albuterol treatment every 4-5 hours, even through the night. One might assume this is a burden, and to be honest, it kind of felt that way the first few evenings. Then there was tonight...
She didn't even stir as I lifted her into my lap. My enormous 4 year old girl, all arms and legs and long, stringy hair. I placed the mask over her face and kicked the On button with my toe. She leaned into my chest, and I just reveled in her. In us. Cuddling as if she were still my newborn baby girl.
This weekend we learned she would be our only girl. We had a gender reveal party with our friends and family to learn the sex of the new baby. It was so exciting to cut into that cake and see the blue crumbs on the tip of the knife. While I was absolutely elated, my heart went out to Maddie, who so wanted a baby girl. I hope one day she will recognize the blessing in being our only daughter. She will forever be my favorite girl in the world, our one and only princess.
As I headed downstairs, I stopped by Parker's room. I tiptoed up to his newly constructed castle bunk bed [more on that fiasco later] and peered over the turrets. Out like a light. I kicked myself for not making the top bunk more accessible. How I miss kissing his angelic face as he sleeps! "Goodnight Parker. I love you," I whispered.
(I skipped Jack's room. Sorry, son. You're still a pretty light sleeper.)
Even as I type, our sweet baby boy is rolling around inside of me. It is the most wondrous feeling in the world. Nothing compares. I can't wait to meet this little guy and see how he fits in with the rest of the circus.
We know he's our last baby, as my husband stated, "As long as he's healthy and happy, we are shutting this operation down!" It's truly the end of an era and so bittersweet. Knowing this is my last pregnancy, I am treasuring every single moment and sensation. (I won't even let the varicose veins get me down!)
So here I sit...dishwasher running, fetus rolling, blessed beyond belief. God is so good! Thank you, dear Father, for these quiet, lovely, love-filled evenings.
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