naptime with max

i thought that maybe my baby boy didn't like to be alone, either.

i put him in his crib and laid down in my bed, which is next to his crib.

he stood up, laid his little face on the top crib rail and smiled.

he stretched his arm towards me and waved.

oh.good.grief.

what a flirt.

sometimes i think this boy has me wrapped too tight.

jason would agree.

i make up silly songs to sing about him,

one to the tune of "that's how she knows" from enchanted.

it goes like this:

"how do you know mommy loves you?

how do you know mommy loves you?

how do you know that your mommy

really, truly loves you?"

and then i kiss his little fat self over and over

and he revels in it.

anyway.

i grabbed my camera the next nap time,

hoping he would do the same thing.

 there was no waving,

but man, he's cute:

who can resist a face like that?!

apparently not me!

=)

ps these pics were from over a month ago...and he now naps just fine on his own. ;)

night time is another story.

savoring

we have spent the majority of this summer living life, but not documenting it.

i was ok with that...

but i know that i've already forgotten so much and i wish i had posted more.

in the moment, you think you'll never forget.

in a week, once you've slept at least 3 hours consecutively per night

and then greeted the sun by way of early greetings from your own son,

memories fade so fast, 

and life catches you up in her quick little dance.

it gets hard to catch your breath.

we fought jaxon for months.

every night, every nap time.

he wouldn't stay in bed.

for hours we would go back and forth.

finally we discovered the underlying issue-

he hates to be alone.

now, we usually let him fall asleep on the floor (his preference),

in the hall or just inside the living room.

we carry him to his bed as we turn in for the night,

but not before i lay down next to him and kiss him all over 

until my heart is content.

it's the only time he's that still, 

and no matter what he says, 

he's still my baby.

this afternoon, he was fighting again.

he wouldn't lay still, so i made him go to his own bed.

he cried, "sleep with me, please!"

as i'm walking to the door, i tell him i can't...

and then a little voice inside stops me and says, "why not?"

so i curl up next to him in his toddler bed.

he instantly calms, 

and i put my hand on his little chest while i watch it rise and fall, 

slowly into a rhythm.

i'm taken back, not so very long ago, 

when he was tiny enough that i could curl up around him.

he was never content unless we were tummy to tummy, skin to skin.

my mind began to race--

"lord, this is going too fast. i'll keep the tantrums. i'll keep the diapers. 

i'm not ready for this to pass by me. i'm not ready for "real" problems.

my kids *want* to be with me now. what am i going to do when they don't?

my baby is almost one. i don't plan on having more...saying that makes me ache, 

but i don't think i'll ever be 'ok' with my babies growing up. it wouldn't matter if i had 15..."

on and on it went until i realized that i was getting too far ahead of myself.

slow down. 

they're still so small. 

his grace is (and will be) sufficient.

that promise swept peace over me and i let go of my fears.

 little by little, i inched my way out of that creaky little bed,

stopping every few movements when his little eyes would flutter open.

when i was finally out of his room, i came here.

i needed to document this.

i need to remember these moments.

there are days...

some call it the terrible twos.

some blame it on spring fever.

whatever it is,

it's vicious.

i say things to myself like, 

"now why, exactly, did we celebrate turning 2?!"

he's into everything...

which has been happening for a year or more,

but now he's equipped with the gift of language

and the curse of fits.

there are days, 

like today,

when all i can do is put him on his bed

and walk out of the room because i am seeing red,

and i know i am *thisclose*

to a 360 head spin and projectile green vomit everywhere.

 i sent a text to my husband--

"jaxon is going to give me a mental break down.

i'm not kidding. please pray for me..."

as a last ditch effort, 

i shuffled everyone outside for some fresh air before lunch.

wound up and fit to be tied,

i watched my kids run and soak in the sun

and i began to breathe again...

and then that boy who nearly brought me to tears with his naughty behavior did this--

"flowers, mommy."

and i'm sure most mommies feel this way,

but when dandelions are brought to me

by sweaty, dirt covered, yellow stained hands,

they are beautiful.

they aren't weeds.

they're thoughtful expressions of love from a little heart.

and i melted...

i wasn't mad at him for screaming and throwing fits.

i wasn't mad at him for going in and waking baby max.

i wasn't mad at him for telling me no and melting down.

i wasn't mad at him for taking his dirty diaper off in the middle of the kitchen.

i wasn't mad at him for interrupting me every 5 seconds while i was trying to teach school.

i saw his loving heart through his huge blue eyes 

and i held him close and kissed his filthy cheeks.

it was a new start to the day...

...and then he tore up my beloved lilies.

luckily his good intentions overshadowed my frustrations

and we just pretended it never happened.

celebrating spring

our 'march madness' is finally over.

from march 10-20, we have 4 birthdays in our family...

we wrapped up (no pun intended) birthday celebrations for my mother in law last night,

and we have about a week and a half until we start april birthday celebrations.

so, while i have a moment to breathe, i'll try to catch up...and there are a lot of posts to catch up on!

yesterday, the house was a wreck with birthday gift bags, left over decorations and craft supplies.

the house was begging to be cleaned, but i didn't oblige.

as i was looking through some blogs, one blogger wrote that they once heard that

children spell love T-I-M-E.

and then i came across this post and thought it would be a perfect way 

to spend time together and celebrate spring!

i am running low on cardstock, so this was really helpful in weeding out some colors i'll

probably never use for cards, and making room for colors i *will* use!

jax never once tried to color a butterfly. 

he went and got his spiderman coloring book instead.

i also used left over scrapbook paper for visual interest...

which is good, because their attention spans expired before mine did.

i wasn't kidding about the mess, see?

after i finished up, ali decided she wanted to help me hang them up.

we both got up on the end table, and she said, 

"you're pretty huge. i think you're going to break it."

children are chock full of daily doses of humility.

thank you, ali....and thanks for nothing, zumba. =P

luckily, we got through hanging up butterflies without me breaking anyone or anything.

that kitchen is not nearly as clean as it appears. no joke.

i wish we would have had brighter colors, but it still brightened up this corner of the room a lot,

but it was fun and they make me smile.

HAPPY SPRING!

ready or not...

potty training, here we come!

i was going to wait until we were done with school for the year, but jax had other plans. last night he found his football toilet seat, and lo and behold, he actually used it. this morning, he didn't even want a diaper on. he's had more misses than hits...um, no pun intended. he has tried to go by himself, he's cried when he's had an accident and sometimes he doesn't care...so we'll see how it goes.

about this boy thing.

last night when he went for the first time ever, i sort of forgot about the difference in girls and boys--meaning, all of a sudden i looked down and his shirt was getting wet. in my defense, he had told me he had to do the other thing...you know, p.o.o.p, so i wasn't even thinking about pee pee or his or where it was pointing. so out of pure reaction i just pushed the thing down and waited til he was finished. but there has to be some other way, yeah?

so tell me--

what are your boy training, lessy messy secrets?

 

ps do you love the ghetto hole in the wall?

the toilet paper holder has been remounted like 3 times

and every time the kids push and pull on it getting on and off the toilet...

and back down it comes.

and yes, i know the toilet seat needs replaced.

eek. but it is clean.

breaking perfection

you may have seen the link i posted on facebook. it was an article on a "disease" that has become an epidemic--

perfection.

i didn't agree with everything that was said. i don't condone every behavior or lifestyle choice mentioned. disclaimer aside, there was truth in the article. if you look hard enough, you can find yourself there. i found myself here:

" "Perfection" is a mom hating herself because she only sees that every other mom around her is the perfect mother, the perfect wife, and the perfect neighbor. I'd give anything to be Mrs. Jones. Today she ran 34 miles, cooked six complete meals, participated in a two-hour activity with each of her seven children, hosted a marriage class with her husband, and still had time to show up for Bunco. What this mom doesn't know is that Mrs. Jones is also at home crying right now because the pressure to be "Perfect" never lets up."

mommy blogs, the selective nature of social networking, and the happy face that we all feel like we need to put on has infected women everywhere, and has put suffocating pressure on (particularly) young moms to be infallible. it's easy to blog about the *perfect* vacation to hawaii you just returned from. it's easy to post a status on facebook that states how *perfect* today was because your 5 year old wrote a letter to his grandparents using 3 syllable words without any spelling errors, your newborn slept all night, and your hair looks amazing.  those things are all great things, and you should talk about them! 

but when is it ok not to be perfect?

i'm tired of playing taboo. 

here are some doses of real for you:

 * i had high expectations for my pregnancy with maddox. it was the first time i was going to be pregnant with mostly nice weather. i was going to be active. i was going to be healthier than ever before. 

wrong.

i felt like junk the majority of the time. i had low blood pressure and anemia that resulted in lots of fatigue, headaches, dizziness, and lots and lots of breathlessness. i got really depressed...but i was infected with perfection--no one really knew.  jason knew. my kids knew something wasn't right. mommy was too sad. mommy cried too much. it made it hard to be excited about the pregnancy. it made it hard to want to prepare. yes, i loved and wanted this baby more than anything. i cried when i had spotting at 22 weeks because i was terrified of losing him...i was just so out of tune that i couldn't find joy in much at all. i'm better than i was, but i am not all better. i've been trying to work through it myself and it hasn't worked, so i'm looking into a natural supplement.

* i miss being just a mommy. i hate the pressure of having to get school done every day. i hate that we're behind for various (legitimate) reasons and now the place i go through is on my back about it. i hate that all of my attention is devoted to one child all morning long while the others are vying for my attention. i wish that if my attention was being devoted to just her, that we were out spending a mommy/daughter day together, not doing schoolwork. i don't have bad feelings towards her, but i wish that i didn't feel like i am missing out on the precious first few (school free) years of the others. i wish we were all together playing and laughing, snuggling and relaxing.

...but almost everyone i know home schools! most of the mommies from my home school group are going to read this post! how could i say such a thing?! 

well, because it's the truth. maybe it's the stress of having a baby during my first real year of home schooling. maybe it's the curriculum. maybe it's because syd potentially needs help that i am not equipped to give her. maybe it's a combination of things. maybe it's just not for us. we haven't decided yet. i know i used strong words, but i don't want to come across as anti-homeschool. i won't even say for sure that we won't continue after this year. i'm just letting it out because i'm tired of the facade and wish that just once someone could admit when there is a struggle. what a breath of fresh air it is to feel like you aren't alone.

***

  i could probably keep going, but you get the gist of it. these are the things i've been struggling with the last year. these are some of the ugly things that no one wants to talk about, but i will. sometimes i'm afraid of the stigmas of depression that society and the legalistic side of christianity assign; but i won't be held down by them. i'm tired of feeling looked down upon if i don't fit into an idealistic box, and that extends beyond depression and whether or not i home school. it's OKAY to be different! if only i could remember this when i feel otherwise! there's definitely a difference between being real and saying too much. you have to protect yourself...and somehow, if you feel like it's the right time, find the balance and go for it.

i'm not trying to be loud, opinionated or rebellious. i'm trying to put myself out there with the faint hope that others will, too. that in the age of technology, we can support and inspire one another, regardless of faults, regardless of the inability to be perfect...because believe it or not, imperfection is freeing.

life with ali

time to lock her up

i walked into my bathroom to find lip prints on the mirror.

since i most definitely do not kiss the mirror, nor does my husband,

there were two options...

but i knew which one to go to.

sydney was sitting on the bench, talking to her daddy.

"hey syd, why did you kiss the mirror?", I asked.

a look of embarrassment crossed her face,

followed by a sheepish smile.

"i was pretending he was my prince."

little helpers

yesterday was...one of those days..the kind where you think you're really getting ahead, only to find out you aren't at all ahead! things seemed to snowball from there, 

and my girls knew mommy was having a tough time.

i had gone into my room, and while i was in there, they decided to help me out

"to make me happy"

(ali has 3-4 shirts on in this picture. she said it was to keep her warm, 

but it made her look like she has really impressive biceps!)

(keeping it real side note--i most definitely cloned my underwear out of this picture...
and then noticed a bit of another pair showing after i posted this--so i cropped the pic and voila!)

it was very touching that they would want to help make things easier, and it did cheer me up.

jaxon was my little helper while taking the pictures--

that's why they're blurry...but he sure is a good helper! ;)

day 49: scaling a mountain

jaxon has taken to climbing, at the expense of his mommy's heart.

he climbed up onto the chair, and up on to the table 

right in front of me...

so i did what any responsible mother would--

i put him down so i could go get my camera

and then had his sister make sure he didn't fall 

while i snapped a couple shots.

the scariest part is that he does his when i'm not right beside him.

life with boys, yes?

day 31: la, la, la...

it seems like the kids go in spurts of behavior, either good or bad. 

the last 3 days have been rough ones, but i have found that if i

just turn my iTouch on to Pandora radio on, say, Flyleaf radio,

and put my headphones in, i can unwind fairly quickly and

get my head 'back in the game,' so to speak.

bring on the music.

PSA: what happens when a mommy blogs

I interrupt my current blog update to bring you a public service announcement:

If you have young children, most likely they disapprove of you having any time alone, especially if it involves something that takes your concentrated attention--ie blogging.

They will take the mattresses off of their beds, jump on them, and encourage their little brother to do the same. He in turn, will fall and bump his head.

One of them, for fun let's say your 2 year old, will climb up into the cabinets and get the salt and pepper out. She will spill it all over the stove, carry it to her small table and proceed to "cook" with it and dump it all over her head.

You see, they do this so you will be unable to complete a thought, let alone a sentence. Your efforts to record special memories onto a virtual journal will be in vain.

Since there is salt and pepper everywhere, you get them into the tub. Easy, right? Just when you think things are settling down--they're both in, the water is almost done filling the tub--little miss salt and pepper potties in the water. Drain, refill.

Even the tiniest of them can be in on it--throwing fits because he can't take a bath with his sisters, throwing fits because he doesn't want to take a nap...

So, you see, blogging is not easy to do. Now you know why us mommies go without updates for awhile. It is a labor of love, sometimes at great sacrifice.

You may go back to your regularly scheduled readings now...my children are screaming again.

his daddy's eyes

he's got his daddy's eyes

 daddy's eyes...

the eyes i get lost in

the eyes that give me a calm reassurance

that everything will be ok

the eyes i love

and my baby boy has the very same color

the very same shape...

and if he's anything at all like his daddy

which i'm sure he will be

some day far from now

his wife will get the same reassurance

when she looks into those eyes

but for now

i hold my baby close

admiring how much like his daddy he is

and thank the Lord

that he has a godly man

to follow after

Why Poison Control Should Be On Speed Dial

I called Poison Control on Thursday morning. I think a call there is a given if you have small children, but this is not the first or even the third time I've called them:

Sydney had reflux when she was little and I had to give her Xantac and Reglan. One time I gave her her Reglan and then realized I wasn't sure when I had given her the earlier dose. No harm done.

After I had Ali, Sydney got into a bottle of stool softener and ate some of the pills. Again, no harm done.

Awhile back one of the girls got into the "childproof " gummy vitamins and ate what was left--about 10 or so. Nope, no harm done there, either.

But yesterday as I was teaching in the kitchen, Jaxon started screaming. It was the scream that every Mom (or Dad) dreads. It was a really high pitched scream, a mixture of fear and pain. I hurried into the living room to find my Air Wick taken apart and laying on the floor with Jaxon nearby, his mouth covered in red oil.

I scooped him up and washed his face off, but he wouldn't quit crying. I had to put him down so that I could call Poison Control (that didn't go over well). The lady I spoke with was really sweet and reassuring. It's a strong irritant, so he wasn't likely to have ingested a lot. It just has a hot, peppery taste and burned his little mouth. I was instructed to give him something to drink to help dilute it and warned that he might have an upset stomach.

I took some pictures of him after he had nursed. The redness is hard to see on here.

It had already faded quite a bit by the time the pictures were taken.

True to form, he was still as happy as could be.

Bless his little heart!

Perspective

I love my job. I'm a wife and a mommy, the two things I most wanted to be when I grew up. I love being home with my babies, and I love making my home something my husband can be glad to come home to. But as much as I love it, it's a difficult job.

Today wasn't a good day.

I didn't do a good job at turning bad moods around. I didn't do a good job at verbalizing my frustrations to my kids or to my husband in the right way....and I wanted a nap, I wanted 30 minutes of uninterrupted quiet time--a time to at least try to regain some sanity.

None of that happened.

I could (and wanted to) be frustrated about it. I could complain. I could take it out on my children or my husband. I could lock myself away for the next hour until my very good friend comes to visit.

But I won't. Instead, I choose to be thankful.

*I'm thankful that my husband not only deals with my moments when I think I'm about to lose it, he listens to me, loves me, and guides me "off my ledge".

*I'm thankful for the forgiving spirit of my children. I'm not perfect by far, and I mess up. I don't always feel like the best example...but my babies still love me and don't hold it against me.

*I'm thankful for the small moments with my children that make all of the rough ones worth it--nursing, snuggling, crafting, learning, smiles and belly laughs.

It's all about the perspective--and I have to make sure I remember that.

Invisible Mother

I needed this today. =)



Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of
response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the
phone and ask to be taken to the store.

Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the
phone?'

Obviously, not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or
sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one
can see me at all.

I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a
pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this?
Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a
human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite
guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to
order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books
and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude
- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never
to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is
gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the
return of a friend from England ..

Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was
going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.

I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put
together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for
myself.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a
beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .

I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I
read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what
you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I
would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which
I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no
record of their names.

These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would
never see finished.

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that
the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to
visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a
tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why
are you spending so much time carving that bird
into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will
ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God
sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.

It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see
you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around
you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no
cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are
building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will
become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it
is not a disease that is erasing my life.

It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness.
It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great
builder.
As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never
see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no
cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people
willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell
the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom
gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That
would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to
want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to
add, 'you're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be
seen if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel,
not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added
to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it
sometimes does.

We never know what our finished products will turn out to be
because of our perseverance.

The Hap-Happiest Season of All?!

The other night I went to Target (alone!) and bought the girls some Christmas pajamas. I did this for two reasons:

1) So they would have cute pjs on Christmas morning, of course.
2) So they would look cute in their Christmas card picture.

We were going to do a family picture this year, but nixed that idea. I wanted to be creative and would feel quite limited by a tripod. Pressing on...

**I will preface this part by saying that these pictures were taken on the same day as my "One of Those Days" post.**
**Oops, I lied. It was Thursday that I took these...but with last week, it doesn't matter. It was all the same!**

They were dressed, their hair was curled and I was armed with my camera and speed lite. Determined to capture natural looking expressions and pictures of girls having fun, we began with jumping on the bed.
This posed a problem because Sydney is bigger than Ali and therefore jumps higher. Ali didn't mind, she just turned her back toward me and held onto the bed and jumped...So I say, "Hold hands and jump!" Oops, there goes Ali, about to slide off the bed...



Ok, obviously that wasn't working. Let's try laying down:





We were all worn thin by this point, so I decided to quit. It was that or cry...which I probably did later anyway. The happy part is that when I downloaded all of these onto my computer, we found one that would work. Syd's being cheesy, but that's Syd. =)

See? Now you're really excited to see our Christmas card, aren't you?! But you can't yet, sorry. That would ruin the surprise and I LOVE surprises.

Blinds and Neurosis

In a fit of neurosis the other day, I decided to wash my blinds.
Ok, that's not exactly how it went. We've been working on our kitchen lately, adding bi-fold doors to separate the laundry and dining room, cabinet hardware, and floor and door trim. Oh, and painting...
Once you get going, it's hard to stop. Soon we found ourselves organizing and decluttering (Spell check says this is not a word. Whatever. It is to me.) the whole room. Luckily my children tore up the blinds by the kitchen table a long time ago, so we went and bought new ones. Actually, the only 'lucky' thing with that is they're only like $3 something a piece. Oh, and I didn't have to dust them. That brings me back to my story about washing my blinds. The ones over the kitchen sink weren't broken, just really, really dirty. Let's be honest--Dusting blinds is b-o-r-i-n-g. So, I thought it might help if I soaked them in the tub for awhile to get some of the dust off.

Ali thought it would be fun to help. She's so good at that. Look at her--She wanted to help with laundry too. Washing blinds, Ali, and clothes ALL at the same time. I am Supermom! Not quite...
Soaking them doesn't really do anything. I still had to clean them off one by one. I guess I'll start dusting in the kitchen more than every 2 years...Especially the blinds.

One of Those Days...

Wake up at 4:45--too hot.
Turn the heat down.
Can't sleep.
Pray.
Doze.
Up again at the sound of little feet pitter-pattering to the kitchen.
No pudding. Have a drink and come lay down.
Can't sleep again.
Neither can she.
Get Ali a drink.
Knock, Knock.
UPS...
*sigh*
Up for the day.
---------------
Diaper change.
Breakfast.
Check mail.
Children crying at the door while I'm in the bathroom.
Clean bathroom.
Laundry.
Shrieking.
Shhh!
Music to lighten the mood.
Breaking up squabbles.
Sweeping.
Broken glass.
Time-out.
More sweeping.
More shrieking.
More laundry.
More whining and crying.
Listen.
Obey.
Please?!

...And it's only 10:45.

Overheard At My House

Sydney: "It's a baby egg."

Tyson: "It's not a baby egg. It's a booger."

Me, feeling obligated but not wanting to ask goes and looks. Sydney is crouched on the floor but I can't tell if she's doing anything. I resume getting ready.

Tyson: "Don't throw boogers at me. That's disgusting."

Me, grossing out: "Sydney, what do you have?!"

Sydney: "This", holding her finger up.

Me: "Don't be disgusting. Go put it in the trash."



I didn't think I had boys yet?!