Just Mothering Through

The first time you get pregnant you don’t know what to expect. You buy books, or join online groups, follow each day meticulously. You would most likely know what fruit or vegetable your baby is the size of at any given moment and if asked, “How far along are you?” could answer “16 weeks and 4 1/2 days.” The process is fun. The second time you get pregnant is a bit different. You are excited to see the plus sign on the stick, but when that first wave of nausea hits, you all of a sudden have a sinking feeling in your gut and remember “oh goodness, how did I forget about THIS!?” What goes from being a fun process, or random science experiment taking place in your body, becomes symptoms, discomfort and seemingly endless waiting. Waiting is not something that we human beings do well, am I right?

I think this time around I am trying to recapture some of that joy in the process mentality that I had when I was pregnant with BQ. It is a bit easier right now since I am at 14 weeks and have entered a wonderful stage of the pregnancy. I feel great, I’m not huge and I like to eat. Am I eager for this babe to make his/her entrance, um yes. But I want to live these days as a family of four really well, and fully. Here we are about to move in FOUR days, how did that happen so fast, and are starting a new adventure together. The girls are at a great stage where we can eat at a restaurant fairly confidently, go new places with minimal gear and the tantrums are fewer and fewer each day. Come December, things will change and for a season some of the patterns and grooves of our current life will be forever altered. I can’t wait for the shakeup, to meet this sweet new baby that I’m already so in love with, and to watch the girls love on their new sibling. Have I mentioned that BQ frequently asks to “snuggle” with the baby and that the reason she wants to move west “tomorrow” is because that means it’s sooner to the baby coming out? Love her, how precious is that? And while I’m on the subject, she told me yesterday, “Mommy, I loved you even before I came out of your tummy.” Yep, I am definitely keeping that one.

At any rate, I think we all have times in our life, that have nothing to do with pregnancy, that are about waiting. Knowing that what we want will most likely happen but that there is a process we undoubtably must go through first. Expectant adoptive parents are professionals at this waiting game, but man isn’t the

JOY that we see in watching them meet their children for the first time better than just about anything? The deeper and longer the process, the greater the potential for joy. Doesn’t that make the wait totally worthwhile? I sure think so. Just like the times when I allow my tea bag to sit for just another minute are worth the tastier tea, savoring the process makes the result of just about anything in life a billion times richer and an even bigger celebration. So hang in there and get comfortable. Enjoy the ride.

Lately things with BQ have been difficult. Let’s just leave it at that. Her sweet four year old self has been living up to this age’s need to test all boundaries, push the limits of parental respect, and raise the sass-o-meter a couple notches. It took me by surprise and came at a horrible time. Being pregnant I am not exactly on my “A game” and mustering up the energy to offer her the consistent discipline, redirection and boundaries I had done in the past was hard. So, so hard. Rather than finding moments to teach her through the process, I found myself simply snapping, barking commands, and dishing out punishments. This was not good for either one of us and I found that after about two weeks of The Doc working nights without a real day off, not to mention the four days he was out of town, and the two of us in constant battle mode it was time for a change. Since I was too braindead to think of anything positive, I was grateful that it was The Doc who came through with a great idea.

A date night. Not for The Doc and I, but for BQ and I to reconnect and actually have fun. When I say that we had not had much or any fun together in those two weeks I am not kidding. Just like any relationship, when there is tension laughter and joy seem to be the first to go. I found a place where we could go for her to paint plaster pieces (side note that these pieces were so hideous. stick to the pottery places, people. luckily, she was none the wiser and thought they were amazing so it was fine.) It was unbelievable how the mood changed as the night progressed. She went from offering a bit of ‘tude to snuggling up to me at dinner. After three hours together she asked what else we could do “just the two of us.” I was able to focus all of my attention on her and we were reminded that we actually really like each other! What a gift.

In my parenting, I have found that whenever BQ’s behavior gets to be abysmal 9 times out of 10 we have fallen into what I call a “negative pattern.” Let me explain. BQ is a child who is wired to respond much more to praise than anything else. Maybe this is true for children universally, but when all I offer her is correction and punishment she flounders. She has a sticker chart where she receives stickers for good behavior. Never fails that when we are stuck in a negative rut I have not given out a single sticker for days. If I can recognize this, even though it is incredibly hard because I am usually way too frustrated to want to praise her, it is amazing what can happen. Even though I had been frustrated with her all morning, shifting gears to just focus on doing something light and fun was perfect. I had to get over my own frustrations and choose to enjoy my daughter. If I am going to be able to teach her and help her to develop the life skills that I am so desperate for her to learn, I have to love her at all times and with all behaviors. This part of mothering is so, so, so hard. There are times when I want to just throw up my hands and yell, “You are driving me CRAZY,” and run out the door. And yet, if I choose not to offer her forgiveness, or to not embrace her when inside it makes me cringe, I’m not ever going to have the impact I so desperately want. Did that that make sense? It’s an incredible image of the love that God has for us, isn’t it? When we are completely unloveable, He manages to find a way to embrace us and love us without reservation. Having received that kind of love, I have no choice but to offer it to these precious ones in my care.

So a different kind of date night has made all the difference. Are we still having our issues, of course. But my goodness has there been an improvement! I’m so grateful to have such a wise husband in this crazy parenting journey with me. Maybe next time I’ll take him out.

Have you ever noticed that your children have some skills that border on genius? I mean seriously, how do they learn how to do these things so well in such a short amount of time? In order to not forget these amazing accomplishments I am recording them for all the world to see. Feel free to give a shout out if your child is just as cool, because I’m sure mine aren’t alone.

Drumroll…

1. Kids are amazing at finding really gross things in public to touch and at times eat. This skill can be seen in all its glory in your local public restroom. I mean, wow.

2. Nose picking. If there is something in there, they will find it. If not they will look anyway.

3. High pitched sounds. I mean, there are times when I believe my children can communicate with all the animals of the world as they omit ear-piercing screeches to the heavens.

4. Being cute. Let’s face it, no matter what I do to my hair or what I wear I can’t even come close. They master this wearing nothing but dirt and they make it look so easy.

5. Dawdling. Do you have only 15 minutes to get out the door? They can make that 30, maybe even 45 if there is a wardrobe malfunction or a shoe that simply must be put on “BY MYSELF” even though it involves lots of straps.

6. Being edibly kissable. Those cheeks, the squishy arms, that succulent belly. Wow. When the first adjectives that come to one’s mind to describe a child usually pertain to food now that is a skill to be recognized.

7. Managing to get food into crevices and parts of their bodies you never thought possible. When you’re tucking that sweet babe into bed you notice something behind her ear. What was that? Oh yes, a bit of sweet potato from three nights ago. Amazing.

8. They are hilarious! From their misinterpretation of song lyrics, (Mommy what does, “RED everything BLACK God made” mean? Oh sweetie, do you mean, “LET everything THAT God made…”) wardrobe choice, funny phrases or simply the cuteness of their little voices. I find myself in a constant set of hysterics around these little ladies.

9. Public meltdowns. You name the place, the time, the date and chances are a small child has graced that floor or public venue with a writhing, kicking and screaming little body in full-on tantrum mode. Whenever I see one going on, that it when it doesn’t happen to be a child of mine, I always say a little prayer for that momma. A mean, it can be hard to raise a gifted child, right?

10. Making even the most mundane an adventure. Simply going to the store only to realize the bathroom is closed and your two-year old is about to wet her pants and you completely forgot the change of clothes? Yep. Driving somewhere and halfway into the trip you hear “I don’t feel so well” followed by vomiting? You know it. Walking to the post office and hearing, “Mom, the dandelions are so beautiful. Did you see that bird?” Love it.

Just a short list, but some of the things that my kids do so, so well. How about yours? What fantastic tricks are they up to these days? I’d love to know.

There have been a lot of changes happening around here lately. Some have been great, others have made me nauseous, and others I’m hoping will go back to their old ways soon. With the first child, everything is new and you arrive at each stage and every milestone clueless, so I had thought that with the second I would see the change coming, recognize it like a pro, and respond accordingly. How wrong was I!? There is some bad, bad thing that goes on in a mom’s brain between the time one child finishes a stage and the other one begins the exact same thing. Somewhere, someone thought it would be fun to hit the “delete” button. All of those precious tips, wisdom, and problem solving strategies are lost and unless you were one of those brilliant moms who kept a journal you are searching in vain for files long ago deleted and replaced by information regarding the season finale of your newest guilty pleasure. What a shame.

We switched Molé to a toddler bed a couple of weeks ago after finding one at our neighbor’s yard sale for super cheap. She was excited, we were excited and the first night was great. (note it did help that I waited until she was almost drooling with exhaustion to put her to bed). Napping has been great, actually overall better than night-time, and I’m fairly happy with the transition. But, I had completely forgotten that for a child who has been sleeping in a nice rectangular, enclosed space her entire life it is a bit hard to start sleeping with one’s head place gingerly on a pillow, in the same direction for the duration of the night. Poor Molé has been really struggling with getting comfortable come the middle of the night. I will usually hear some sort of bang/pow/crash phenomena going on followed by crying. I then have to go into her room and reposition the half asleep little person. She drifts back off to sleep fine, but unfortunately an hour or so later we are back at it again. The bedrails for some reason seem to do little other than act as a weapon of hard wood against an unsuspecting little moving head and fail to contain the 22 pound person left in their care. Good thing the bed isn’t even a foot off the ground, because with all of the out of bed crashing there would definitely have been some broken bones.

Ok, so hold that thought about the big girl bed and I will tell you about the other change. Goodbye pull-ups! That’s right, we are dry at night. Even though I day trained my girls at 20 months, I did not pursue night training at that time. My pediatrician had said to wait until BQ had about week’s worth of dry nights before attempting and to be honest up until lately she was wet 90% of the time. Molé was different in that she has been batting about 50% since day training. Since I struggled with bed wetting as a child I did not want to force or guilt BQ into staying dry. My parents were amazing with me and were intelligent enough to know that no second grader enjoys waking up in her own urine or is doing it on purpose. I cannot remember a single time that my mom made a negative comment as she washed my sheets yet again. They did all they could to encourage and help me (middle of the night wake-ups, a device I wore that attached to the front of my underwear with a sensor that had a beeper velcroed to my shoulder that would say “bbeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep” if wet, and even a nasal spray later on so that I could do things like go to camp, even though I would stop drinking fluids after lunch when at a sleepover or camp). Growing up wetting the bed was awful and embarrassing and one of my fears is that the girls will inherit my bedwetting struggle. Luckily, it seems like they are not going to deal with this obnoxious problem and I am so relieved. Enough about me, back to the girls.

We moved from wet pull-ups, to dry pull-ups, to big girl panties in a week and it has been great. Each girl has had one accident, hence the puddle on the ground. BQ had a normal accident, in her bed after her mother had left a full cup of water by her bed and she downed it in the middle of the night, in her bed. Molé on the other hand, was a bit more creative. Last night I forgot to have her go to the bathroom before bed, I know really bright, and at about 1:30 a.m. I heard her yelling “wet, wet.” I walked in and as I got closer to her bed felt a splash of liquid under foot. She was standing on the ground, leaning onto her bed with her upper body trying to sleep. I’m not exactly sure of the logistics of the accident, but honestly was quite grateful that it happened on our easy to clean up flooring rather than her bed. Her pants and underwear needed to be changed, but her bed was as fresh as it had been the day before when I put on the fresh sheets. (they always have the accident the day of or after you have changed the sheets). I was grateful for the ease of clean-up but am still puzzled by the how and why it happened that way.

Finally the bug bite. Both The Doc and I react horribly to bug bites. They always find us, bite us, and we are covered with miserable welts. Poor BQ has the same problem and yet she is far more delicious and therefore suffers even more. Last night she was dealing with a doozy. It was about the size of a silver dollar on her upper thigh. I was summoned to the room on FOUR separate occasions to apply cream, and ultimately a dose of Benadryl. Poor babe. Even though I was in a sleep stupor and annoyed that I had been up every hour between the wetting, bed moving and falling, and bug bite, I really couldn’t blame her for not being able to sleep with a pulsating red bump on her thigh.

So you’d think I would have remembered to apply bug spray to BQ the minute the weather changed since this happens every single summer since her birth, or to help transition Molé to the big girl bed by doing a little pillow and sheet practice in the crib, right? Or possibly I would have given BQ the Benadryl on the first trip to her room rather than the fourth. Um no, of course not. I’ve been journaling my pregnancy this time around because one day when the girls are pregnant and have questions I want to do something more than stare back blankly. Or when a friend with a younger child asks what I did at such and such a stage it would be nice to say something wise or even witty rather than the blank stares and shoulder shrugs again. Do you forget everything too? There are about a million examples I can give but I will spare you the boring details. Let’s just hope that when it comes time for number 3 to have a big bed, suffer a bug bite, or make a puddle on the ground I’ll be prepared or at least recall that yes, I have done this before. Until then, I apologize for responding to your questions as if I have never seen a child in my life.

I’m back and this time I mean really back. Wonder why I’ve been the lamest blogger ever lately? Let’s just say it has a little something to do with the fact that I am once again…

WITH CHILD!!!

That’s right, I am pregnant with baby number three and could not be more excited. The only problem is that since I am terrible at keeping secrets (my own that is, not yours) I had to hold myself back from the blog. It would have been far too tempting to rant and share all of my food aversions, fatigue and regular pregnancy thoughts. And so I did what most responsible pregnant people do and I waited until that blissful 11 weekish appointment where I walked in and heard a sweet swishing/swooshing/little heart beating sound. Bliss. That was yesterday and it was wonderful.

So there you have it. Baby number three, or “Tres” as we are now calling it, will be on the scene sometime around December 8th. We are planning on finding out the gender, we’ve done it both ways before, and I can’t wait. I’ve been enjoying things like carbs, um yes lots of carbs, and have recently discovered that a serving of Captain Crunch has 100% of one’s daily folic acid needs. Pregnant woman’s snack of choice? I think so. I will try not to have the blog sway too heavily toward the pregnant world in the next months, but be prepared for the occasional sharing about my growing belly.

There you have it. I’m off to eat a baked potato.

To say that I have been inconsistent in blogging lately would be an understatement. Things have been a bit crazy, and someday soon I promise I’ll fill you in. Lately though, my life seems to be full of a certain W trifecta that involves whining, wedgies and worries. Let me explain.

I have children and therefore I live with whining. I wish I could say I have figured out the magical solution to completely eradicate it from our home, but I have not. (btw if you have, kindly leave me a comment with the ingredients for the magical potion. I will be brewing it stat). One of my children struggles a bit more with using her voice in a tone that doesn’t make a grown woman’s blood pressure rise upon impact. She is very obedient and bright, but goodness the girl knows how to whine. Banana falls out of the peel, whining, clothing feels uncomfortable, whining, Mommy takes away a privilege because she didn’t listen, oh get ready for some whining!! Good thing that when she uses her voice to do other things I am filled with laughter, joy, thankfulness, and sanity. But honestly, I am living in close quarters with an unwanted guest named whining.

And wedgies. Yes, a word my children learned soon after moving from diapers to underwear. Why you ask? Mostly because I grew tired of hearing them use the term “owie” for everything and this helped me to know whether we were dealing with an actual wound or simply some pesky article of clothing. (hence why my two year old will say “un-bumf-tah-bull” translated “uncomfortable.”) Well, the other child of mine has been having some serious underwear malfunctions lately. It does not seem to matter the cut, brand, or style, she is wedgie prone! For some reason, she thinks that when the wedgie begins, she should pull her pants UP instead of DOWN, which only exacerbates said wedgie. It’s a bit of a disaster. When pulling up doesn’t work, her frustration takes over and she simply disrobes from the waist down. Not a problem at home, but at Target near the Icee machine with two older men walking by…not so much. Though her tush is definitely in the top 1% cutest on earth, it is not meant to be shared with the masses. And so I live with the word wedgie these days.

Finally, worries. That one is unfortunately mine. Complete waste of time to be honest and yet I still do it from time to time. Take yesterday when we found out the house we thought we would be renting out west is a no go. There were tears and frustration for sure. And yet, deep down I know that God does not make mistakes and that whenever I think something is the end of the world, something much better happens. Remember that middle school crush and how you thought you might die if you didn’t marry him someday? Yikes, what if that really happened!? That house was not perfect by any means and I can see that now. It just goes back to the struggle of letting go of the many unknowns in this world. Deep breaths and lots of prayer. Lots of prayer and faith that God is who He says He is. He is faithful and a giver of peace.

Maybe I could trade my “w” words for some “p” ones instead. Perhaps patience instead of whining, so that I can love my sweet girl and be a better listener myself during those times when she is upset. And, uh…perspective instead of wedgies, (it’s a stretch) so that I can realize these underwear malfunctions are in fact hilarious and will stop as soon as she becomes aware that it isn’t cool to proclaim one’s wedgie. And peace instead of worry, because dang it God promised to give us a peace that is beyond any sort of reason or logic and that is a heck of a lot better than anxiety.

Patience, perspective and peace…much better.

They would evidently say things like this…

BQ and her puzzle pieces from an Africa puzzle

“Zimbabwe, come back!!!”

“How are you?” (from one puzzle piece to another)

Molé and her princess figurines talking to each other

“Hello. How are you?” (insert two-year old voice narrating the conversation)

“Where’s Jasmine? In the castle? Let’s look!”

Take my word, in person, ridiculously cute.

Dear Mr. Sunshine.

First of all, let me start by telling you just how much I appreciate you. Not only do you bring warmth to the earth, but your sweet rays of golden goodness seem to be able to turn just about any frown upside down. Your face is the one that I long to see each morning. With your warmth and light comes the chance for small children to cast off coats and other uncomfortable layers of clothing to run freely in a mere shirt and shorts. Oh the freedom you bring sweet big ball of heat. The flowers grow, the snow fades, spring and summer are your fortes, and we would all pretty much be lost without you. And so I say job well done, my friend.

With that said, I do have a slight bone to pick with you. Lately, I have noticed that you have been working overtime. Maybe it’s your excitement at being back in the game after a long winter, or perhaps your eagerness to shower us with sunshine. Whatever the reason, I’m going to give you the permission to tone it down. Take a load off. If you start to feel the urge to come up around 5 a.m., just go back to sleep or give another part of the world just a bit more sunshine. Ooh, you could even find those wintry places on earth and give them a sunny treat surprise! And in the evening, I know you’re tired, so feel free to head to bed at 7:30. No need to shine on way past 8. It isn’t that I don’t like having you around, it’s just that my children also seem to enjoy your presence. So much so that the minute they catch a glimpse of your sunny rays peaking through the teeny tiny gap between the blinds and the window each morning they shoot up in bed ready for the day. And in the evening when I tuck them in bed and turn off the light but the room doesn’t get dark, they seem to think this is an invitation to have a little party. Again it is all out of love for you, but have you heard that you actually can have too much of a good thing?

In closing, let me again say that I by no means want to make you feel unwanted or cause you to hide yourself away. We want you. We need you. Let’s just keep it between the hours of 7 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. ish.

Yours Truly,

Amy

Whew. I just spent the past four-ish days enjoying the company of a dear friend from college. I hadn’t seen her in over four years, which meant she hadn’t yet met the girls and I hadn’t met her sweet (beyond sweet) almost two-year old little man. The kids played really well together and we were able to have time to sit around and catch up which was a treasure. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if our third musketeer, the famous Captain Haus, could have been there.

In order to not completely bore all of you with mundane trip details I bring you a top ten list of why the trip was a little bit of this, a little bit of that, with a light layer of fabulous friendship on the top.

10. It is still possible to enjoy oneself on a four day trip when 3 out of the 4 days one of your children has a temperature of 102 degrees (armpit style).

9. Dairy Queen, people, Dairy Queen.

8. Watching your big girl love on one of your closet friend’s sweet boy is a gift.

7. Meeting, playing with and loving on your friend’s child is awesome.

6. Sharing stories that pertain to bodily function and loss of control into the wee hours of the night while laughing hysterically is good for the soul.

5. Being with someone who knows me well and loves me still is rare and wonderful.

4. Having a child say she needs to “make a waterfall” while you are cruising down the freeway can cause you to panic, pull the car over, take out the mini white potty from the trunk, and assume that she is in fact telling the truth. When the panic subsides and small child simply sits on the potty without even releasing a drop, you realize that she has in fact worked you and any panic or fear of a wet carseat turns into, um, a bit of frustration.

3. Is it possible to lose a small child’s shoe somewhere in the car on the way home? Yes. Is it a gift from God when you check the trash for your camera and end up finding the shoe in there just before it goes out to the big grey can outside? Double yes. (especially when you then remember you had already put the camera away in the drawer where it belongs).

2. Real friends don’t care how often you call or write. They are the ones where years pass and yet when you are together you pick up right where you left off. And they are rare. I am grateful to have some (You know who you are. I hope. Maybe a Hallmark card would suffice to express this point?)

1. (don’t even care if you think it’s cheesy) No matter how much fun I have with friends or family, there is simply nothing on earth that compares to being with The Doc. I am grateful that in four days I miss him. Any experience is richer, better and more fun when he is there.

So there you have it. Nothing Epic, nothing earth shattering, but a top ten list all the same. Good luck in your travels! Remember to thoroughly check the trash.

That’s right us. Well, not that kind of short shorts, but my goodness people today we are wearing shorts! This is quite a big event when you live in the arctic world of the Northeast. Overnight on-street parking has resumed, making way for our garage to be filled with balls, shovels, strollers, bikes, and any other form of outdoor play gadgets. Did I mention the water table? If you don’t have one of these and you have toddlers or preschoolers it is a must! We are blessed to have a yard right now, but I’m not sure whether or not that will be the case in June when we move. We are savoring it all right now.

Speaking of the water table, as the girls were playing with it yesterday, Molé completely drenched herself. And, being in her current nudist phase, she decided to promptly remove her pants. Before I could get over to help her she wiped out mid pull down, landing her cute little tush in a pile of dirt. The result? Both cheeks were encrusted with a fine layer of mud. Oh the cuteness. But maybe this early lesson in the perils of outdoor nudity will serve us well during the summer.

I hope that wherever you are it’s sunny. Put on some shorts! Soak it in. The Doc is off work today for the first time in two weeks and we are going to spend every possible second outdoors enjoying some family time. I’m struck by the incredible example of new life that is all around us as we look to tomorrow and a celebration of the greatest gift of new life ever known. If I don’t make it back on here then, let me say a very Happy Easter to all of you. I’m so grateful it didn’t end on Friday, aren’t you?