on things you should know about me....

My friend Ashley is having a link party all about the random things you didn't know about your friends. SO here we go...

 I LOVE coloring with crayons and playing with play dough, I am really 3 years old at heart. In fact to this day every time I see one of those boxes of 120 crayons I want to buy one for myself.

I had gallbladder surgery when my baby was 2 months old and it was the most physically painful experience of my life and yes, worse than birthing a baby a mere 2 months before.

 I like eating corn with my pasta, and not just when I am pregnant, this is something that my husband finds disgusting.

 I am the only girl in my immediate family so I one of my favorite things is getting together with my cousins. We all cram into the kitchen and it's loud and crazy and we usually get very silly.

I can't open my eyes under water, it creeps me out.

I love running around barefoot, and if it were up to me I would never wear shoes again.

 I do dumb things and accidentally hurt myself. I have sprained my thumb by telling a story and pretending to punch someone and actually accidentally punching a door. I broke my wrist jumping out of a tree. I have sprained my wrist jumping through a window between our living room and den the day we closed on our new house because I was so excited ( and yeah I was 25 at the time). And I sprained my ankle by standing on a chair to kill a spider and accidentally stepping off the edge.

Growing up I was scared to death of all the big rides at Disneyland. My mom would promise me anything in the park if I would go on Splash Mountain once and I refused. I didn't get over my fear of fast rides until I was like 14 and my cousins took me to Magic Mountain, my first roller coaster ever was Goliath, I thought I was going to die on that ride but in the end it cured me.

When I was younger I wanted dark brown, thick curly hair. Luckily I never went through with that plan and to this day I have never colored my hair.

My husband was my first kiss, in fact he is the only guy I have ever kissed.

When I was pregnant with my first child I kicked a whole in our apartment wall with my barefoot because I got mad at my mixer. Now lest you think I am also a ridiculously strong pregnant women you should know that that apartment was built when the earth was created so the walls were pretty thin, but still. There have not been any casualties so far this pregnancy.

I am directionally challenged. I can't tell you which way is North or South and I need a play by play of directions to get any where new.

I have only had one very best friend, she was more of a sister than a best friend really. Her name was Allie, and I rarely talk about her.

I love when my child naps but I often get very bored and find myself refreshing my facebook home page over and over hoping that someone will post something interesting that they are doing so I can live through them for a moment.

on loving it...

So last night my husband and I went out on a date. We are both sick but seriously needed some alone time after a long holiday week in which our child freaked out at both of the family parties that we attended. As in full blown temper tantrums every few minutes for a solid hour.

 My cousin suggested that he might be overstimulated and just not able to handle it. Which I think is exactly right. There were A LOT of people at both parties, like 25-30 and a lot of kids running around. So I do think it was just too much for my very active child who wants to be a part of everything to handle. But it's the holidays and families get together in large groups, there is really nothing that we can do about that so all in all my husband and I were very frustrated by our child's behavior and extremely embarrassed that the other parents could keep there 2-4 children under control and while our one child was melting into a pile of mush everytime someone said hello to him.

Especially since as soon as we got him home he turned into this totally different child. He was suddenly all loving and wanted to be held and sit quietly or play by himself and all traces of the flailing, screaming, hysterical child were gone. So while we understand that he has issues with large groups of people, what are we supposed to do about it? Especially since this is only the beginning of the holidays and there are MANY more parties that we will be attending, which frankly makes us wish that Christmas was over.

Plus the night before we had attempted the mall with the child and finally gave up after the boy protested LOUDLY to our every attempt at shopping. We even tried to bribe him with a chocolate chip cookie (and yes I am THAT mother who has resorted to bribes to get some peace in the store, dum dum lollipops are my best friend at the moment), but instead he decided to chew the cookie until it was the consistancy of glue and then smear all over his father's khaki sweatshirt (it should be fun getting that stain out). What child won't sit nicely in a stroller and eat a cookie? I will tell you... it's my kid.

So basically we needed a break.

As we were driving we started talking about the new baby and our hopes that he will be calm and easy going. I have hopes that he will be as he it is a lot easier to share my body with him than with our first. I am now 6 weeks away from my due date (Crazy I know!) and I can probably count on one hand the number of times that he has kicked me hard. This child is more into floating and wiggling he doesn't attempt to break free from the confinds of my stomache like my first did. So I was telling my husband that I am taking this as a good sign that he will be a calm little boy. To which my husband replied "Come what may."  It was his way of telling me not to get my hopes up and that we would deal with whatever came our way.

This reminded me of a talk from conference that I loved but the title was not just "Come what may" it was "Come what may and love it." And that's something that I need to work on. I sometimes get so caught up in how difficult my little boy is and I find myself wishing for him to grow out of it or getting frusturated and upset when he makes shopping trips, parties or my day hard. And I am not very good at loving it.  I think we all do this, we think "well... come what may." Like it's a bad thing, and we are annoyed at what life hands us. And we forget to love it. We concentrate so much on the negative side of any situation, and we focus on enduring it and not enjoying it.

I have a very active child. This is not something new. He is not one to sit quietly and watch life go by. He wants to get out and experience it, and enjoy it. And I need to be more like him. I need to just enjoy it. To not get worried when things don't go how I would like, or hung up on all the things that I have to do. I also need to remember that my little boy is 2, and shopping is not at all interesting when you are 2 but unraveling an entire roll of toilet paper apparently is. He is such a smart little guy and he understands so much that I often think that he is older than he is and expect him to act older too. Which isn't fair to him at all. He's just a little boy and I need to take more time let him be a little boy and enjoy that fact.

on getting to know my baby...

Being pregnant is an amazing thing. Sure your hormones are out of control at times and you feel like an 80 year old women complaining about your aches and pains. But seriously the downsides do not even compare to the amazing experience of having a child grow inside of you. And it's something that I think I have been taking for granted.

 My husband will ask me all the time about the baby and if he is moving or what he's doing or how this pregnancy compares to the last one. It made me think that it must be very odd to be a father. You must feel so left out during those 9 months. As a mother you get to know what your baby likes and does not like right from the start, you get to feel them move and be assured that they are ok, you know where the like to sleep and when, you get little hints into their personality everyday which helps you "get to know" your baby, and most of all you get to carry the baby around everywhere you go to protect them and keep them safe.

I think I am noticing all these things even more with this pregnancy than with the last. With the first you have nothing else to compare it to so you figure that being pregnant is kind of standard. But I am noticing how my first little guy's personality was defined when I was pregnant and is already so much different than this one. 

With the first... well he was CRAZY right from the start. i remember telling a friend when I was almost 5 months pregnant that at any point in the day if I stopped what I was doing and concentrated I could feel the baby move. Now I am starting to realize that that was very unusual. You usually have just started feeling the baby kick around that time and the kicks are very soft and fairly rare. But my little guy was VERY active a trait that has definately stuck with him. By the time I was this far along last time (8 months) I was being kicked to death all day and night. Something that if you know my little boy now is not so surprising.

 He was also a burrower (is that even a word?) from the start. He liked to see how much of his little body he could wiggle underneath my rib cage, which was a fairly painful experience for me. I would often wake up gasping for breath, unable to bend my body because I had this little ball of child wedged into my ribs. His favorite way to sleep was with his head in my ribs and his little bum sticking up. I would get up in the morning and have this lump sticking up right below my ribs where his little bum was. And now when he sleeps he lays on his belly in a little ball with his bum sticking up in the air.

This second little guy is much more mellow, which gives me hope that he will be a calm baby too. Where as my first seemed to always be testing the limits of his confined space this one is more content to just float. He kicks often enough so that I am assured that he is doing ok but certainly not at the same rate or intensity as his brother. He kicks more actively after I eat like his brother but I also notice that he kicks me when he is hungry too. Which is probably the result of being a second child, when I was pregnant with the first I didn't have someone else to take care of so eating regularly was easier. Now it' almost like he is saying "hey mom remember me? I'm hungry too!"

As far as sleeping habits, this one has so far blessedly stayed away from my rib cage! He prefers something that I have begun to refer to as his bowling ball impression. He will go completely limp and his whole body weight will lay at the bottom of my stomache making it feel like I have a bowling ball strapped to my stomache. It is really an interesting sensation because one minute he's peacefully floating along and then the next I feel like he might drop right out onto the floor.

It is pretty cool be able to tell already how different my little boys will be.

on leaving comments...

First off I would like to say that I LOVE comments!

I love to hear from you and to find out that you can relate to my crazy life. I am more than happy to have you link this blog on your own or share a story that I have written.

 I do ask however that you not use my family's or my name.

I know this sound a little obsessive but I have run into my fair share of wierdos on the internet and I would rather that they not know who I am.

I know that it's hard, I slip ALL the time when I am writting but if you could just double check before you press post I would be very grateful!

on how things are...

( I wrote this post a back in March, and forgot about it until I looked through my drafts, funny how motherhood makes you sentimental at the oddest of times)

We went to Disneyland this last Saturday as a family. I realized that was our first little "vacation" with just the three of us, usually my parent's or my husbands parents take us places, but this time it was just us. And it was an amazingly stress free and fun day. This was my little guy's 3rd trip to Disneyland in less than a year, but this time was different. Since it was only us we didn't have to worry about holding up the group while we changed a diaper, or let our little guy run off some energy. We went at our own pace, went on only kid friendly rides and had a nice relaxing day. And throughout the day I kept on thinking "Wow, this really feels like a family trip." Not like before when you were just hauling around a baby, trying to enjoy a trip, while attempting to fit your day around his normal schedule. But now he is older and I have mellowed out a lot and so we just went with it and if he napped, he napped and if not he was fine to run around and explore.

At the end of the night we went on Pirates of the Caribbean. My little man does not fall sleep on me any more, he has in fact vehemently refused to do so for the last 9 months. It is because he is a fighter he has never in his entire 18 months of life just drifted peacefully off to sleep in my arms. He always has put up fight squirming and protesting until he finally just collapsed from exhaustion. And now that he is older it is beneath him to be rocked or cuddled to sleep. He is far too independent for that and insists upon doing it himself.

Well it had been a long day, he had taken a nap in the stroller but he was quickly running out of steam. At this point he was either going to be very grumpy or become completely delirious. We went on the ride expecting to make it the last one and then have him fall sleep in the stroller on the way to the car. However, the ride made him a little nervous so he hung onto me and buried his face in my chest and the next thing I knew he was out cold. I think he is normally just so high strung that he doesn't sit still long enough to relax and drop off but since he was scared his eyes were already closed and he just fell asleep. It was so funny.

I didn't have the heart to put him back in his stroller because 1. he NEVER lets me hold him while he sleeps and 2. he was still clinging to me for comfort. So I carried him all the way out of the park and to my car. When we reached main street I was pretty sure that my back was about to snap right in half from the strain being placed on it but I ignored it.

That march to my car cradling my baby made me reflective of the years of mothering that I have ahead of me. The whole process is hard and many times extremely painful. You spend your life attempting to navigate your child through this crazy world, trying to hold and protect them and make them feel safe. Many times you feel like you wont make it, like the burdens placed on you are too hard. But then you look down at your little boy with his hands still clinging to your shirt seeking comfort and you give it, even though you feel that you have nothing left to give. And you do it because you love them more than anything.

The sad thing is that at the end of my journey I got to tuck my baby safely into his bed, but at the end of mothering we have to let them leave. You spend 18+ years giving them your entire life and then your expected to just let go. Especially boys. They become men. There will come a time when they wont want to be held and kissed and sheltered. They will want to move on and it's our job to let them. I thought of this as I walked through the park my arms screaming in protest.

 And then there was no way I was going to put him down. I was going to cuddle him to my chest and enjoy the fact that I could make him feel safe, that I could still protect him and take care of him and all I had to do was smile and pretend that it wasn't killing me. Because someday soon, sooner than I expect I will have to let him go, I will have to let someone else take care of him and all I will be able to do is smile and pretend that it's not killing me.

on naming a baby...

My biggest concern these days is that my baby will never have a name. I literally cannot think of a single boys name that I like. I am having serious issues with this. I have gone through my baby name book that has 5 million names and found exactly 5 million names that I feel completely indifferent towards. I have googled baby names and found only that celebrities must really hate their children because who names a kid "Apple" anyways. Also one poor little boy is named "Speck"... seriously. If that kid doesn't grow up with a complex then no one will. Who does that?

The other day I was with my husbands family and my sister in law and niece were trying to help me. I finally had to stop saying what I was thinking because every name that they came up with I either knew someone with that name (and not just like some kid that i ran into once in third grade) but like a cousins name or one of their kids names or a close friend. And I felt bad that I was shooting down all their names.

It is a lot of pressure to name a kid. This is the name they will be stuck with for the rest of their lives. Also this is the name that your will be hollering multiple times a day for at least the first 4 years of life so it better roll off your tongue naturally. You want it cute for when they are tiny and yet solid enough so when they grow up they aren't stuck as "Dr Stuey".

I guess the hardest part is that I have tons of girl names that I would love to use, but no girls currently growing in my belly so I am out of luck with that one. In fact I had the name, I was sure this baby was a girl so I had her name first and middle all ready. We had told our son and everything. So much for that.

 

I also LOVED my first son's name. I was set on it right from the start and had to convince my husband that it was the one. We had a list of other names too that we gave our parents (we don't tell the name of our baby until they are born partially because my husband likes to surprise people and partially because you get more people's opinions when you say "we are thinking of naming him this..." instead of "this is our kid, his name is..." and i think you need to see the kid before you can decide on a name because not every baby can pull off "Butch")

 

Sidetrack anyways, I loved my first little boy's name and now I can't find one that I love and I feel like I am just going to have to pick something and it won't be a name I love and I will always feel bad that the first child got the name I loved and his father's name as a middle name and the second just got stuck with something sad like "Howard" because he had to have a name and I had nothing.

 

Well that's the problem I have. But I guess I have 3 (oh my gosh I thought I had more than 3 months left! yikes! that was a reality check) more months to figure it out.

 

P.S. Please do not be offended if you happen to love the names Stuey, Butch or Howard they are just not my cup of tea. But if you like the name Speck you have serious problems.

on my weekend away...

My husband and I just got back from a weekend away from our child. The first time we spent a night away was about 5 months ago and it was a little traumatic for me. But this time way so nice. 

I love my child. He is everything to me. The sheer fact that I deal on a day to day basis with the temper tantrums and terrible two issues is living proof of that. I would do anything for my child. And admitting that I need time away from him or that I enjoyed myself immensely without him does not change that.

Sometimes I feel like all I am is a mother. That is all I do all day long and sometimes well into the night. Slowly things that you used to enjoy get replaced by diapers and bedtimes and laundry. My husband mentioned the other day that I no longer greet him when he comes home from work at the door with a kiss, and you know what he is absolutely right. At 6 o'clock when he gets home I am in the middle of making dinner while attempting to not trip over the child attached to my leg. I usually use "Look Daddy is home!" as away to pawn off the child onto him so I can have a moment of peace. But that is motherhood. It is what we all signed up for, and I love it, most of the time.

I never wanted my husband and I to become "those parents" who lose themselves in their children. You know the ones that every sitcom has done an episode on where the parents go to dinner or away for the weekend and they have nothing to say to each other so they keep repeating the same things over and over about their kids or how they like the lemon in their water or some other mundane thing.

 But I am happy to say that the weekend away proved that we are not "those parents". We laughed and talked about all kinds of things and really enjoyed being together. It was so nice and I highly recommend it to every parent. It was great to be just the two of us again. To remember how it was when we could be spontaneous and stay up all night if we wanted to. To reinforce that he was exactly the right guy for me to take on this crazy adventure with and that I am as in love with him now as I ever have been, and just because life gets in the way sometimes and raising a child can be stressful, at the end of the day there is no one that I would rather be taking this journey with than him.

(Another great thing about getting away is how much more your family appreciates you. Both my husband and my mother have had the opportunity to be me for a weekend and both have said how happy they are that I came back, how they don't know how I do it all and how exhausting my job is. And since I have been home my child has been attacking me with hugs and kisses. It is nice to be appreciated!)

on mothering the sick...

Warning: This post contains some details of the sicknesses going around my house. Read at your own risk.

I had a conversation about a year ago with my sister-in-law who doesn't have children yet and she asked me if I ever gagged while changing my baby's diaper or caring for him while he was sick. At the time I honestly answered No. She seemed worried and wanted to know how I dealt with the more disgusting aspects of motherhood.  At the time I didn't know how to answer her. I have taken care of so many babies in my life that a messy diaper doesn't phase me at all and when I see a kid start to gag (even one that is not my own) by instinct I put out my hand to catch it. So I wasn't much help because it has never bothered me. 

However in the last two weeks, two separate events have made me reconsidered the question.

The first event occured two fridays ago when my child had a random rancid diaper. Sometimes these things happen so I didn't think much of it and put the child in the bath (it was THAT kind of diaper). All was going well, I went to grab his towel, turned back to my child and he looked up at me and said "diaper change." Let me translate... this is what my child says when he needs to have a messy diaper changed, so he was telling me that he had just gone to the bathroom and would like me to change his nonexistent diaper. He has NEVER had an accident before in the tub and of course it was a stomach virus, nasty mess.

The second happened two days ago as I was heading off for a girls weekend. I got all dressed up and I was going to drop my child off at my husbands work and then meet the girls at my mother-in-laws house so we could all drive down together. On the way to my husbands office, since I was a little early, I decided to stop at the grocery store to pick up some granola bars as it is always good to keep snacks on hand when you are pregnant. I picked out the bars and stood in line. Then I looked down at my unusually quiet child, who I was holding as he has been a little clingy, to see his little body heaving as he proceeded to throw up all over me.

In both events I understood what my sister-in-law had worried about as the sights and smells I was assaulted with combined with my not-so-iron-clad pregnant stomach. In both cases there was a moment that I thought I was going to lose it right there and then, and then my little boy looked up at me. And in his face I saw a mixture of fear and pain and the tears rising to his eyes as he saw the panic on my face and realized that something was wrong.

 And that changes everything, just like flipping a light switch, your mothering instincts and your need to comfort and protect your child first above all else kicks in. It trumps everything including the overwhelming need to get sick, and you do the only thing you can do, you ignore the smell, the fact that your clothes are very likely ruined, your previous plans and you wrap your arms around your little guy. You cradle him to your chest and find yourself whispering words of comfort in an amazingly calm and controlled voice and that's when you realize that you have made it to motherhood. Really there are no tricks of the trade, there is no way to prepare yourself for dealing with any of it. But there is also no reason to worry because the instinct to nurture is ingrained in women so when you are faced with crisis you just do what comes naturally.

on being difficult...

I am a difficult women to live with. The combination of being pregnant and taking care of an active almost 2 year old has made me difficult. My hormones and emotions are seriously out of wack which is a bad combo in general but add to that a handful of temper tantrums, sleeplessness, a sick little boy and having an achy tired body from carrying around said little boy who is 26ish pounds and you have the mess that is me. My poor husband has gotten his fair share of tearful phone calls and not so pleasant grunts of hello as he has walked through the door the last few days. But today I realized how difficult I have become.

Back up for a second...

Yesterday was a bad day. I may have accidentally given my child expired frozen go-gurt. Who knew those things expired so quickly even when they are in the freezer? And yes I am awaiting my mother-of-the-year trophy for that one. This also explains a lot to those of you who saw me and the puddle of mush that was my son yesterday. Anyways, bad day meant hysterically sobbing phone call to my husband.

Now back to today...

It has been good. Almost pleasant. The effects of said rancid go-gurt are mostly gone and I got a good night sleep. It is days like these that I am totally on board with this having another baby thing.

A few minutes a go I got a call from my husband. It went something like this...

Me: "Hello!" in a bright cheery voice

Hubby: "Hey..." in a cautious, but hopeful voice. "How are you doing?" (he seemed almost scared to ask)

Me: "great! we just hung around the house today, the baby was in a good mood."

Hubby: HUGE sigh of relief. "thats good"

And then I felt horrible. I have that guy sitting on pins and needles just waiting to see what kind of mood I am in.

Me: "you sounded scared to ask that."

Hubby: caution returning to his voice "yeah kind of..."

Me: laughing "yeah I guess I would be too."

Lessons that my husband has learned very well...

Never cross a pregnant women.

Apologize profusely when talking to a sobbing pregnant women even if you have no idea what she is saying.

Use caution when talking to a pregnant women until you have accessed her emotional and hormomal level.

Watch for mood swings they can appear mid conversation for no apparent reason.

I know that being pregnant is no picnic but I am in a good emotional and hormonal state at the moment to realize that it kind of sucks to be the guy too. So I am going to try and be less difficult, or at least realize when I am not making any sence and just let it go.

on THAT MOM...

Yesterday I was "THAT MOM" you know the kind, it's the kind that you used to see struggling with an out of control child and in your professional opinion as an unmarried, childless women you thought "what is wrong with that kid! what a spoiled little brat, I bet THAT MOM lets him get away with anything at home. That's why he is flipping out. It serves her right."

Ok so maybe you are better than I am but I will admit that I judged a few poor frazzled women with a crazed child in my day as the worst mother in the world and that she must have brought this on herself.  And then yesterday all those moments of judging came back to bite me.

I went to a friends house for a baby shower, and my child was in a mood. He spent half the time stealing the other children's toys or food or really anything else that they touched in the 2 hours we were there, and the other half of the time he spent screaming, at the top of his lungs, for no reason. It was one of the low points of my life.

And I felt like such an idiot. Like everyone was wondering exactly what I let him get away with at home. And let me tell you, I don't let him get away with anything. I swear I don't just lay around on the couch all day and let my child have full run of the place. He is not allowed to trash the house or hit people or steal things. Time outs, and saying "I'm sorry" and "Please and thank you" are the norm around here. I have a fairly well behaved child on a day to day basis. Sure he's a little high strung and spirited but on the whole he's a good kid.

And so yesterday I realized something about THAT MOM. Maybe those poor women that I labeled as bad mothers were really, like me, just having a bad day. And I have resolved from here on out to be more understanding and sympathetic, and when I see THAT MOM with her kid in the store I will politely turn my head and pretend to not noticed the piercing screams.

on what today looked like...

From where I sit this is what today looked like...

here's to lazy summer days.

on things that ARE great...

This post was originally going to be entitled things that seem great... at first, and I was going to list all of the things through motherhood that you spend your time looking forward to and then it happens and you wonder why you were excited for it. Things like...

-when you are first pregnant and you are so excited to get all cute and round so you can wear pregnancy clothes and look pregnant.

(all of the mothers out there can now laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, however we all felt it at first) and then we got our wish and suddenly you are gigantic and you realize just how good you had it when you didn't have to wear elastic waist pants. 

-or when you lay in bed being kicked to death from the inside and you thought "I can't wait till this kid comes out because I am sure that I will sleep better"

OH how wrong you are! Dealing with a baby at 3 am get old REALLY fast, and suddenly you find yourself wishing you could put it back in for just one night so you could sleep.

-or when your blessedly still child gets frustrated because he cannot move and keeps accidentally batting the toys just out of his grasp and you think "I cannot wait until he is mobile and can get the things he wants by himself"

And then he becomes mobile and insists upon hovering dangerously close to all the sharp corners in your home and you long for the days when he was stuck wherever you placed him.

-or when your child starts walking

This is perhaps the shortest moment of excitement in a mother's life. You shout for joy exactly one time and then you realize that your life is now over.

I had planned to put the following event on this list as well, but I changed my mind and then had to change the post as well...

-when the first time your child says "mama" is followed closely by the 5,000th time they say "mama"

I had heard and envisioned being so excited when my baby finally said mama and then being completely sick of hearing it as my child repeated the name endlessly all day and night.

and then my child waited a full 15 months to say it and although he has probably said mama a million times this week alone, I STILL LOVE IT! My little mother's heart just about bursts with pride and joy when I hear him call my name. Perhaps it is because I had to wait so long, perhaps it is because he has always preferred "dada" and has said so since he was 7 months old. I don't know but I still can't get enough of it.

I think it partially has to do with the way he says "mama." See dad is the fun one who throws him up in the air and tackles him to the ground so "dada" is usually said in excitement as he is running full tilt away from his father who is inevitably chasing him. Whereas "mama" is said in his sweet soft little voice. It is usually said when he needs comfort and almost always comes with a hug or a kiss. On that note it is "mama" that he calls for when he wakes up in the night. And I have to say that although I am a stickler for his bedtime routine and being all business when dealing with him in the night. But nothing breaks my heart and sends me running into his room like hearing him cry for "mama".

Other things that are as great as they seem...

-your baby's smile and laugh

-watching them learn and understand things

-having them be able to communicate with you and tell you what they want instead of whining

-watching your baby experience new things especially things that you did as a child

-SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT!

-getting a hug and kiss

-when they are interested in watching tv. I know that nominates me for mother of the year but it is so true!

-labor

I know this one needs some explaining.

perhaps I should have said labor with an epidural.

After labor I remember holding my new little baby and turning to my husband and saying "that wasn't bad at all." Now that's not saying that it didn't hurt, especially before the epidural which is why I will be asking for one immediately upon entering the hospital next time. But there is something very empowering about bringing a child into the world. And then I look at this sweet little guy in my arms and thought "wow! I did that!" Plus you get a baby out of it so it is pretty great.

on having 8 kids...

Today I went to a funeral. It was a sad day. On the back of the program they had all the man's children and grandchildren listed. He had 8 children and 39 grandchildren when he died. After reading through the names my husband turns to me and says "I want to have 8 kids." I replied "Good luck with that!"

I wish I could tell you that he was joking. But my husband LOVES kids. So chances are he probably wasn't.

Just thinking about that makes me tired.

on being right...

My baby is screaming bloody murder right now, for no apparent reason. He is supposed to be sleeping, but he is not. He also only took an hour and a half nap today instead of the normal 3 hour one. I think he is exhausted and therefor beside himself.

Something you should know about my child is that he is not one to be coddled or snuggled. He does not want help being put to sleep but rather to be left alone. This is great on a normal night but on those off nights when he has trouble sleeping it is not, because he thinks that he wants help getting to sleep and yet he REFUSES to let you at the same time. It can be very confusing and aggravating.

This is how it usually goes. You hear the child scream so your natural instinct is to run into the room and snatch him from his bed. This will (and has many times) turned out badly. Because he then thinks that you are there to stay... forever, even though he really needs you to leave so he can get to sleep, and he SCREAMS when you try and sneak out after attempting and failing to help him sleep. Confusing...yes. Frustrating...yes! Especially at 3am.

So what to do? Well you let him cry for a minute and usually he goes right back to sleep. If that doesn't work you go in make sure nothing is wrong give him his binkie and say "go to sleep" and leave. This will work only if done properly and quickly. It is all business, you DO NOT pick him up or pat his back or give any indication of staying. He occasionally will let out a cry in protest when you exit and you wait 5 min (watch a clock and make sure it 5 because 1 minute can seem like 10 when you are listening to your baby scream). GO back in repeat the above and leave. In the early days of this method you double the time you wait before going back in until the child falls asleep on their own. Usually we don't go in more than twice. It works like a charm. Except when you don't follow it precisely.

We put our child to sleep at 8:20. At 9:00 he started screaming. He cried for a little while and then my husband said he would go in. I repeated the above rules to him because he is known to cheat. He went in and when he left the screaming began again. He can downstairs but almost immediately turned to go back up. I told him to not go back in, he had just barely left, I told him it would go badly if he went back in and if he tried to put him to sleep it would only get worse. But he didn't listen. At 9:05 he entered the baby's room all was quiet until 9:15 when my husband decided that it wasn't working and was tired of trying. The above bloody murder screaming then ensued. As my husband came back downstairs he seemed tensed for the lecture he was sure to receive from me about how I was right wasn't I. But I am tired and not wanting to start a fight I held my tongue. At 9:25 (with no one in the room) there was silence.

I am being a good wife and not rubbing it in but just for the record...

 I was right.

on temper tantrums...

I am getting tired of these. I mean REALLY must we freak out over every little thing?! Especially out in public. Does my child honestly enjoy watching his mothers face turn 50 shades of red and start sweating profusely as I am attempting to wrestle the child back into the shopping cart that I am trying to keep moving through the store to finish my errands so I can go home and crawl under a table and die from shame and embarassment.

I have been reading up on the toddler years to try and find some reason strike that reasons got nothing to do with this. There is no reason it just is. Well then, I have been trying to understand it more to possibly have chance of living through it. And actually after reading I was really on the road to handling it fairly well.

First, I learned that a child in the midst of a full blown tantrum is not in the mood to be reasoned, bargined, or bribed into cooperation. They are so beside themselves that no matter what you say (aside from giving them what they want in the first place) they don't want to hear it.  Here in lies our first problem, I have a very strong willed child. He knows what he wants and cannot be distracted from it. Unfortunately for him he has a strong willed mother, who was a nanny for many years and has never given into a screaming child and does not plan on changing that anytime soon.

My plan for dealing with this was to find a place away from people and just let him cry out his frustrations until he was done and ready to listen to reason. And it actually worked pretty well because 1. I was away from people so my child was not bothering anyone as he sorted through his problem 2. I didn't get upset with him as I have before while trying to talk him out of the inevitable tantrum, I just let him be mad and get it off his chest 3. He didn't get mine and an enire store full of people's attention which only fuels a tantrum and 4. Once he was done we could go on with life.

Second, children like mine do not handle change well. Part of his independence is that he doesn't want to be forced into doing things. Like getting his diaper changed. For a couple months he would completely lose it when we changed his diaper, we would have to just pin him down to get it done.

But now we explain to him what is going to happen and what will happen next so he knows what to expect and doesn't feel forced into it. He has done so much better once we started explaining it to him instead of treating him like a baby. Now we can say "can you go get mommy a diaper and lay down?" and he will, just like that.

Third, active children such as mine sometimes get overwhelmed and overtired which leads to the tantrum. My little guy is not an observer but a doer (is that a word?) Meaning he will not just sit back and watch things happen he wants to be involved. We have cousins that live close by and whenever we are with them he is great and loving life for about 2 hours and then he melts down. And I have determined from my readings that it is because he is so excited and active and involved that at some point he just hits a wall, and by nature he won't just sit down and rest and watch for a while. SO he loses it.

How we deal with this? Well 12 hours of sleep a night plus one 3 hour nap helps. (Don't be jealous it is my gift for dealing with a wild child everyday.) And when we notice a meltdown starting to form we take him away from the situation to let him rest and have a calm moment.

With all these things in mind you would think that I had things under control. And then today happened.

I had no motivation to leave my house this morning, I beleive it was a message from above that no good would come out of trying to run errands but we were running dangerously low on toilet paper. No TP + Pregnant bladder = trouble. So off to target I went. And I started by explaining to the child "We just have to go into this one store and then we will go get lunch." And he seemed on board with me until we approached the building. Then the screaming started.

fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight...

but we REALLY needed toilet paper so I pushed on figuring that I would find something in the store to amuse him. I was wrong. The screaming intensified. I got some of the dirtiest looks of my life from every person I passed. All the sympathetic mothers must have heeded the warnings this morning and just stayed home. I soon had a cart full of things and a completly inconsolable child who was challenging my every effort to keep him in the cart. I reasoned, I barginned, I begged, I even threatened that he was going to be "IN BIG TROUBLE" (scary I know). But he didn't care. Instead he tried to claw his way out of the cart and so that he could grab onto me with his vice-like arms. Hence the opening to this post and my reason for wanting to die right there in the middle of the paper goods isle.

The morale of the story is this 1. listen to those little hints that perhaps this is not going to be your day and cut your losses and stay home 2. Stock up on toilet paper 3. Don't ever claim that you have life under control because life likes to prove you wrong 4. Never take a hungry, tired, crabby child to target.

on grandpa...

My grandfather is currently fighting for his life in a hospital room. He was admitting last week with pneumonia and last night suddenly took a turn for the worse. We almost lost him, actually we did for a few moments. He was not supposed to make it through the night but by some miracle he did.

Last night was one of the worst night of my life. I sat on a cold plastic chair in a tiny little waiting room watching my grandmother's heart break as she pleaded with the Lord to let her have just a little more time with her husband. At some point through the hours of sobbing and praying she asked the question "did he know?" Did he know how much I loved him, did he know that he means everything to me, did he know that he is the best thing that ever happened to me, did he really know. Did I tell him enough, did I show him enough, did he see through all the stupid things I have said over the years... It is a horrible question to have to ask yourself when you might never get the chance to make it right.

Of course grandpa knows that his doting wife adores him. That they are as much in love today as they were 60 years ago when they were married. And in this time of crisis that is something that she can hold on to, that he does know. I have had to ask this question once before in my life and unfortunately my answer was no, she did not know.

So my question to all of you is the same "Do they know?' Do your kids know how much you love them, does your husband know. Do you tell them evey day, every chance you get or do you just assume they know. Do your parents, siblings, grandparents, and friends know?  Or do you let other things get in the way of telling them.

don't let another day pass without letting them know, so you will never have to ask that question.

on things I think I need...

from tatertots and jello

in fact I think I need one of these for every season.

from tweet heart wall art

but first I need a little girl

Blue mason jars shown in The Pleated Poppy

just because I think they are cool

from Pottery Barn

but I can make it for a lot less than the $179 price tag

on surviving...

I am drinking ginger ale and feeling sick. I have stuck my child in front of yet another show so I can just sit in peace and be sick. That is the story of my life

Although I have to say ginger ale is amazing. I have never really had it before but my husband heard that ginger helps with nausea so he bought me the 24 pack. And it works, it's amazing.

This week my favorite things are ginger ale and Toy Story 2. They help me survive. Why Toy Story 2 and not the origional? the answer is simple...  Jesse. My child is OBSESSED with Jesse. His first crush at only 20 months old. I'm in deep trouble.

on questions with hard answers...

A couple weeks ago we were at dinner at someone's home (names will be omitted to protect the innocent) and there was an elderly women there who has known our family for a very long time. In the course of the evening the festivities were all of a sudden interupted by my child's scream. My husband carried the struggling child into the room annoncing that he had just hit the elderly women across the face and had earned himself a timeout.

On our way home that night my husband and I were discussing the event and surprisingly we had conflicting views about punishing our child for his actions. Now thats not saying that I encourage my child to hit elderly women across the face. But I could see his point in the matter. Let me explain...

Everytime that we see this women, immediately upon us entering the house she tries desperately to get Jackson to hug, kiss or let her hold him. I can understand this, she wants to interact with our adorable child, who can blame her. But the way she approaches it is a little forceful. And she has unfortunately caused him to anticipate her advances not in a positive way but rather by grabbing onto which ever parent is holding him with a death grib because, understandibly, he is a little unnerved by this women. Also he is a toddler with the independance that comes with it, and he does not warm up to people quickly and sometimes has very specific views of who he wants. That's just the stage of life that we are dealing with. On top of it all he doesn't sit still for anyone. So he doesn't want to be held and sit quietly in her lap, which is what she wants. So all in all we have conflicting intrests here.

What usually happens is that he won't go to her, won't kiss or hug her and as soon as we put him down he runs off to play with the other kids. Well, on this particular day, she was outside watching the kids play and trying to get one of them to come sit with her. Everytime my little guy ran passed she would ask him if he wanted to sit with her and he would reply "no" because sitting is the last thing my child ever wants to do. So on one of the passes he made by her she decided to take matters into her own hands and reached down and scooped him up. To which he replied "NO NO NO." When he was not released he besowed the above mentioned slap across her face.  

Now once again I do not think it was ok that he hit her, but let's look at it from his perspective for a minute. He is already wary of this women, he wants to run and play with the kids, she asked him if he wanted to came to her -he said "NO", she picked him up against his will anyways to which he said "NO", and when she wouldn't let him go he hit her. In a way it was just self defense. He was being forced to do something he was not comfortable with, his will was being ignored so he used the last option he had. Now you could say, "yes but he knew the women, and she wasn't trying to hurt him."

But isn't it also wrong to teach you children that they have to just take whatever is happening to them because they are little, to take away their right to decide what make them comfortable and makes them feel safe. That doesn't seem right either.

So what is the right answer here?

on being sad...

On friday I was sad.

I had my third long, hard, frusturating day in a row with my toddler followed by a dinner out that ended in yet another full blown public temper tantrum. My husband had met us at the resturant so I drove his car home and made him drive with the child. And I cried... the whole way home.

Sometimes this whole motherhood thing is just so overwhelming. You feel like you are about to lose that weak grasp that you have on your sanity. You feel like you have nothing more to give. Like even after you have given everything that you have... it's not enough and somehow you always come up short. You feel like you don't have enough time or energy to give your child, your husband and forget about yourself. That is so far at the bottom of the list, piled under loads of laundry and stacks of dishes.

Well all in all I was just overwhelmed and tired. So very tired. I am tired from chasing around my energetic little boy. I am tired from the countless temper tantrums that I have to deal with on a daily basis many of which take place in public where I have entire stores or resturants full of people glaring at me as if thinking "what kind of mother is she, why is her child so out of control, what a bratty kid, or why doesn't she just leave." All the while trying to wrestle a screaming flailing child away from whatever set him off, and trying to not have him kick me in the stomache because I am pretty sure that's not good for the baby. On that note, I am generally tired because I am pregnant and being tired is mandatory like fat ankles, and I am tired because I am already not sleeping well. I could go on... but it's a long list.

But what all of this added up to was a little emotional breakdown in the car. I felt like such a failure. And mostly I was scared. Scared because in a couple of months I will have two. And if having one was hard, what was it going to be like with two?!

 I arrived home, with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, to my little boy dancing around the room. When he saw my face he stopped and his little face scrunched with concern. My husband told him that I was sad because he had been screaming at me. With that my little guy climbed onto my lap and began stroking my cheek while babbling softly to me. He then sat next to me on the couch and laid my head on his shoulder and sat very still and quiet just holding me, like I have done with him so many times.  And I realized that I must be doing something right because I have this sweet caring little boy who has recieved comfort and love when he was sad and he knew exactly how to comfort me. It was a very sweet moment.

on things I have to look forward to...

This picture was taken the night before my little guy joined our family...

and yes I know, I was a beast. I went searching for this the other day to settle a discussion my husband and I were having. A girl in our ward just had her baby, and last week when we saw her at church she was still tiny. Like one of those people who NEVER gain any wieght and even when they are 9 months pregnant and ready to pop you can still honestly call them tiny. These kinda of people make me mad. Especially after seeing this ravashing picture of myself.

So I was saying to my husband "I can't believe she had her baby she was so tiny!"

To which my husband replied "No, she was huge, did you see her last week."

To which I said "No, she was tiny, you want to see someone who was HUGE check this out..."

and I brought up the above picture.

To which my husband (being the good man that he is) denied over and over my claims that I was the size of a walrus even with the proof staring him right in the face. That's why I love him.

But the fact still remains... that is what I have to look forward to. In about 6 months I will once again be a beast.

But then again I also have this to look forward to...

I remember this like it was yesterday. The first time I saw my baby. I didn't know that you could love something that had been kicking you for 5 months straight so much.

And that's what I have to look forward to. In 6 more months I will be holding my baby. I can't wait!

on having a second... no really

And yes, I mean a child.

I am indeed pregnant with my second.

 And it was the biggest surprise of my life to date.

I have already noticed some real differences between my first pregnancy and my second.

First of all the last one was planned.

And boy was it planned... I counted days, tracted my period and ovulation cycle, I knew the exact days that I could get pregnant and I did. Simple as that. I also knew exactly when the first date of my last period was (because EVERYONE asks you that when you are pregnant) and I knew exactly when the next one would show up (I am one of those "like clockwork" kind of people). So when that day came and no period, I knew I was pregnant.

This time was not planned.

I had NO idea when the first day of my last period was or any day of my last period for that matter. So I had no idea when the next one would come, but I did have this funny feeling that I had missed it.

Last time I took the pregancy test before my husband got home. My eyes filled with happy tears and I paced the room completely thrilled that I was going to be a mommy! I met my husband at the door when he arrived with tears of joy streaming down my face. We laughed and cried and we were SO excited. Then we went out to dinner at Cheesecake factory where I ate my favorite spicy pasta dish and cheesecake for dessert.

This time my husband was going to the store to get me sprite as I had spent the whole night puking and asked if he should pick up a pregnancy test. "Sure" I thought, but there was NO WAY I was pregnant. A half an hour later my husband, our little boy and I all crowded into our little bathroom to look at the test and my jaw dropped open in shock. There were TWO pink lines. Tears of... joy?... well, tears any way, once again streamed down my face as my husband attempted to hug me and my child danced around my legs.That night I ate saltines for dinner.

Last time I was obsessed with this little person growing inside of me. I read books, I signed up for this thing online that told you exactly what developments your baby is going through everyday. I was so excited for when I would feel the first kick and was just generally amazed with the entire process. I thought about my baby ALL the time. I started a list of names from the moment we decided to get pregnant. I spent my days imagining what this little person would be like and I found myself holding my nonexistant stomache (like an extremely pregnant women) pretending I had something there.

This time... well I just don't have the time. Sometimes I don't even remember that I am pregnant until my stomache suddenly drops because I need to eat and I feel sick. Or my little boy will take a flying leap at my and land halfway on my stomache and I think hmm... that probably not so good for the baby. Or at the end of the day when my back is killing me and I am EXHAUSTED! which brings me to my next point.

Last time I remember being tired by the end of the day.

This time I am dead on my feet exhausted by about noon.

Last time I had a little truely morning sickness. I needed to get up and eat something substantial in the mornings and I felt ok until lunch and after that I felt great.

This time I want to kill whoever coined the phase "Morning Sickness" because it is not. It is all day and sometimes all night sickness. I feel gross the majority of the time and indegestion is my constant companion.

SO all in all having a second is so far not easy. I always thought that life would get easy or slow down before I would contemplate adding another to the bunch. That I would look at my life and say "Yeah I could totally see how another kid would fit right in." But I hadn't gotten there yet. I kept waiting for it to get easier and it wasn't happening. Going shopping was still RIDICULOUS and I still had days where my little man drove me crazy and I just couldn't see how I could have another baby on top of all of that.

 But right before I found out I was pregnant, I was driving in my car and my little guy was actually quiet in his sit for two seconds. And I was thinking about something my sister-in-law told me. She said that the reason they decided to start trying for a second was because they wanted a friend for their daughter, someone for her to play with. And I thought I could relate to that. My little guy LOVES other kids. And I could see how he needed a friend. So I thought maybe it's not about waiting until your ready but maybe it's about doing it again for your kid.

I have tried to imagine juggling two kids before and it hasn't been pretty. But all of a sudden, in my car, this image came into my mind of myself holding a baby, sitting on the floor at our house playing with my two kids. It was short but it was peaceful. And in that moment I could see how it would work out. I could see how great it would be. I have heard people say before that they felt that there was a baby waiting to join their family. And I never understood how you could know that. But as the image of myself with my two babies flooded my mind a feeling that I have never felt before filled my heart, and I knew that that baby was anxiously waiting to join our family. And in that moment it didn't matter how hard it was all going to be... I wanted that baby so badly.

Three days later I found out I was pregnant.

on being invited over... with a toddler.

So recently we were invited over by two different families, both have children who are older with their youngest being in middle school, both have known my family and I for a very long time and both invited us over for dinner... toddler and all. In both situations I was dreading the event.

 You see there is a difference between bringing a baby over to someone's home and bringing a toddler. A baby just sits there and can be passed from person to person and is fairly content with whomever is holding them as long as they are being rocked. A baby is fairly containable, you just have to be quick about catching the spit up before it hits the couch and mom is carrying dinner so they are happy.

A toddler is different. A toddler want to run, wants to explore, a toddler knows the difference between their parents and a, albiet well meaning, relative who wants to hold them. Toddlers also get unnerved fairly easily,  for no particular reason and it can take them a while to warm up to new situations and people.  A toddler is fairly impossible to contain and the glass and valueables in the home are in jeopordy of being toppled in the whirlwind that is your child until you leave. It's no longer about being quick enough to catch the spit up but anticipating the launching of every item that you place before them to eat. And speaking of eating they now eat real food, and since toddlers now have an independance that causes them to decide firmly what they will and will not eat and even though they ate a whole plate of pasta last night no amount of prodding or begging will get them to open their mouths today, you cannot possible bring 50 different options of dinner for them to pick and choose from, so you must hope that they will eat something that is provided. Along those same lines is the question of where they will sit and "eat" their dinner. You can't bring a highchair with you, so you imagine trying to balance a child on your lap who is only content when you let him play with the food on your plate while attempting to shove food into a moving target that may or may not be rejected and therefore thrown across the room. Oh and try eating yourself in the midst of all of that.

Like I said... I was not looking forward to it.

At the first dinner, it went pretty much exactly as I had dreaded. There was no place for my little guy to sit so he was perched on my lap as described above, the food was not toddler friendly and he was completely thrown off by a room full of people that he did not know well and who wanted him to hug them. There was nothing for him to play with and so he was bored and felt out of place and therefore crabby. It was a LONG night.

The second place, I was anticipating much of the same. Between the two family's my child had seen the first more often so, in light of the previous experience, that didn't bode well for the next family. Of the two dinners I thought the first would have been much easier to bring my kid to. 

However, the second dinner was quite a different experience than I expected. When we arrives they brought us into their family room which they had completely child proofed, and they had a basket of toys for my little guy. Upon seeing the toys my little guy got very excited and practically leaped from my arms to go and play. He was 100% more comfortable and happy because he had some where that he could be and things that he could play with. He had no trouble warming up to the group. They made sure that there were things at dinner that he could eat and even had a booster seat set up for him. It was so nice.

The difference between the two experience was as simple as a little time and thought. It was as simple as realizing that they had invited a toddler and doing a little extra to accomadate their guest, and for that I was SO grateful. It didn't take much just a basket of toys and a booster seat saved from when their kids were little but it made all the difference to us, and from this experienc I have vowed to remember. Remember what it is like to have a toddler, and to worry about them wrecking someones home. I am going to put away a basket of toys and a booster seat after my kids are grown for just such occasions. So that when a family with little kids comes to my house I can make them feel welcomed too.