Tag Archives: motherhood

Holy Bad Day

anger-inside-out

Today, has been a hard day.

Think, “if I wasn’t in a public place right now someone would be really hurt” kind of a day. Fo realz.

Half serious.

Thank goodness I was in public.

It has been some time since I have had one of these. My blood pressure is still boiling. I can understand how some Mom’s turn into secret alcoholics. I am not saying that I would, but it is days like today that I can understand how some women get there. Phew.

Three is one of my favorite ages, but also at the same time one of the HARDEST ages. In my opinion.  How is it possible that someone can be SO, so sweet and loving and funny and then the next minute turn into [Linda Blair and Hulk had a baby]?!

It’s nap time now. Part of me wants to fall asleep to rejuvenate for the second half of the day, part of me wants to stay awake and do ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING so that I can have real quiet time and a small (small) part of me wants to do some chores so that it looks like I was productive today when important people come home. Hopefully they come home by themselves because if they bring a friend I will have to have done more chores. Decisions, decisions. ZZZZZZZZZZ…….

Thanks for letting me vent.

And, a word of truth to all of those sharing in my bad day…

1 Thessalonians 5:18: “ give thanks in all circumstances…”

All circumstances? Really? Ok. Well, thank you Lord that I did not kill my Son in anger. Thank you that I have a son and that I am blessed enough to have a bad day because of my blessed children. Thank you that this situation has caused me to come to you when I may not have if I was having an easy day. Thank you for nap time. Thank you promising to carry me through bad days (psalm 50:15, 1peter5:7, nahum1:7…). It would have been better for me if I wasn’t having a bad day, if I am being honest, but for some reason you want to teach me something through this, so… forgive me for my anger, forgive me for being tempted to turn to a glass of wine for comfort (and chocolate), forgive me for not being more patient with my children, help me to have patience, to have wisdom and, well, help me to be overflowing with every single fruit of the spirit. Amen.

Cheers!

=)

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Baby #2: Abram, Fun & Random Things, God Things

Meh.

Hello. It’s me! Janet, wife to Ryan. Mother to Lucy and Abram and a half Mother to a cool Exchange Student named Anton. Just thought I would leave a refresher since I’ve been missing and you probably have forgotten about me.

So, what’s been going on? I have been losing my mind over here. Not that things have been super stressful, or, maybe they have, I don’t remember. Every day just comes and goes.  I wake up looking forward to bed time. That sounds depressing reading it on paper. Eh, on screen. It’s not bad. I’m just busy and tired. Aren’t we all?

I thought things would be easier with Lucy in School full-time but, actually I am busier! I live by the schedule. And, I look back at my days and literally have no idea what I did. Well I do, but it doesn’t sound like much.

Topic change.

So, once I turned 30, everything started going down hill. If you haven’t turned 30 yet, get ready! If you have turned 30, you can relate. If you have turned 30 and nothing has happened to you… well, good for you. For example; pimples. I have never had so many pimples in my life. I never went through the weird teenage skin phase, and now, I am even more grateful that I didn’t. Another thing, my MEMORY! What?! I have always prided myself on my amazing recollection of unnecessary information and now, I literally can’t recall half of the things in my brain. Ugh. I hate it!! Lastly, (not really lastly, but just at the top of the 30 board) Pre-midlife crisis! What? Who am I? What is my purpose? What is my direction? Am I good at anything? Blah. Blah. Blah. Why?

Dumb.

Well, my little just woke up and I have to get ready to pick up my big.

Hopefully, I will have some more time to write in the near future. And, if you think about it, this Hyperthyroidism thing (hashtag 30) keeps me DoWn a lot during my free-time, so, if I am feeling better, I can write more. And, that would be awesome.

Love to all of you! Thanks for reading!

=)

 

 

 

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18 Months and All Boy!

abe n lu

My Baby boy is now officially a year and a half.  What a snuggler!!! Great sleeper. Lots of energy. Strong willed. I love him.

Abram is pretty challenging because he is into everything… and I am not used to that. He is adventurous, daring and fearless. He is quick (super quick) and smart. How does one think to do such things? I need a nap.

He eats all day. All. Day. Long. He is constantly sneaking cereal and goldfish and drawing my attention to the snack cabinets. I do not understand. You just finished eating breakfast. Three eggs and toast and milk did not fill you up?

Abram is weighing in at 27 pounds, which is only in the 50%. There is only a three or four pound difference between he and Lucy. He is  in the 95% for height (34ish inches I think?). His Doctor calls him “long and lean”.

Some of Abram’s favorite things include: eating, dancing, Lucy,  playing with balls, eating, taking baths, balloons and wrestling.

Abram does not like being told to sit (or having to sit), reading books, cold lunch meat, having his diaper changed or getting dressed (basically anything that means he has to be still for a period of time).

Abram’s favorite songs are the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and “If You’re Happy and You Know It”.

His favorite foods are goldfish, eggs and anything that I am eating.

Oh yeah, I wanted to include a few words he is saying just for my own records. Though not quite all clear, He is talking more and more. He practically tries to repeat everything I say which is pretty cute. Of course, he still prefers to call me Janet instead of Mom, though I have heard him say “Ma” recently. Daddy, Apple, Lucy, Pretzel, Cup, Up, Down, Cheese, Cereal, Pop (for lolly-pop) and Eat are some of his frequently used vocabulary words. Say it with me: “I love Mom, she is my favorite!”.

When I was pregnant with Abram I used to pray very specific things for him (he and Lucy both). It is exciting for me to see him growing in the very areas that I specifically prayed. For example- I prayed that he would be gifted athletically and  I have seen natural ability, talent and interest in all kinds of sporty activities (just ask Ryan, he is very proud!). I prayed that he would have a passion or gifting in music (preferably with an instrument). He definitely enjoys music whether it be dancing, singing or playing on our drums. Lastly, as his name means “Leader of Nations”, I prayed that he would be a leader. A Humble leader, one who leads by example and stands firm to his convictions (spiritually and relationally).  Unfortunately, the only leadership qualities I have noticed in him is that he does whatever the heck he wants! Ha-Ha. That’s not true. He likes to lead prayers at the dinner table.  ;0)

18 Months of smiles and gray hairs. I wouldn’t change a minute of it!

(Well, maybe you could just calm down a notch on the aggression!)

Love ya!

cheese handsome

mess

turtle syrup

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Lucy’s Ink

ink2 ink3 ink

Before I start this post, I would just like to express how evident the grace of God was yesterday in my life. When it is nap time or “quiet time”, I really cherish the “free time” that I have those two hours. If anything, I mean anything, gets in the way of the only downtime I have in a 24 hours span of time, I get really pissed off. I know, it is a problem. However, yesterday, when something this “traumatic” happened, my natural self would have flipped out (meaning lots of yelling and stomping around) but instead, I was surprisingly calm. i could feel the frustration welling up inside of me, but it never actually exploded out. I call this a win.  I’m never really happy when I freak out. I know that my number one job is caring for my children, not whatever *important* thing I am doing during nap time. BUT, man, oh man, sometimes a girl just needs a break! Thank you Lord for helping me through this one!

*

As I am sitting in the basement folding laundry and watching the latest episode of Revenge (what?! how did she…), I head some bumping around upstairs. This should have been a red flag but, I, believing that my child is an angel and can do nothing wrong when I threaten her not to get out of bed, assumed she was just throwing the books she reads in bed onto the floor.

Moments later, the dog that was sitting next to me jumped up and ran over towards the steps. I glance and notice Lucy standing there. I give a disapproving look. You know, the “Why are you out of bed” look. I look again.

What the… “LUCY! What did you do?!”

I get up and make my way towards my daughter, who, now looks like a smurf. “Lucy, what did you do?!”

“I tried to wash it off Mom!”

I leaned down to smell her. Right away I could smell that is was permanent. I picked her up and started up the steps.

“Where did you get this?! What were you doing?! Lucy! Where are you allowed to use markers?!”

“… on paper…”

“Are you paper Lucy?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry Lucy, but this is very bad. This is bad. You are in big trouble.”

“I’m sorry Mommy!”

“Sit on this bed and don’t move (finger pointing). I have to take your picture so I can show your Father. He is going to be very upset with you.”

I didn’t know how else to take her picture without glorifying the action.

So… there was more discussion on the topic. I took her upstairs and told her that she had to go to bed now. She cried because she wasn’t tired. I told her she should be crying because her face will be purple forever. I knew that it was going to be difficult to get the marker off of her so in my mind, she could just go to sleep and  I would deal with it later. Then I realized that she also colored all over the bottom of her feet so the marker was getting all over her bed rails.

“UGGGHHHHHGGGRRRRR! Ugh. Get naked right now! We have to take a bath!”

“Okay Momm!”

How can one be so sweet and happy. Stop being happy. You’re in trouble. Be sad.

I make the bath super warms and put a ton of soapy in the water. She jumps right in.

“Lucy. Stop playing. You’re in trouble.”

Okay Mommy.”

What is wrong with you? I’m so frustrated. Can’t you see that. I’m mad at you. Why aren’t upset that I am mad?

So I scrub, and scrub, and scrub. Oh, you colored your teeth too. Awesome! Here, brush your teeth.

“Mom, it’s not coming off!”

“Uh, I know! That is what I have been trying to tell you. This will never come off. You are going to be purple forever. That is why we do not color on anything besides paper.”

“Okay Mommy, I won’t do it again.”

“Good, now get out.”

“But Mom, I don’t want to get out of the bath yet, I’m not done playing!”

“Uh! It’s not play time! It is NAP TIME! You are supposed to be napping, not playing. Get out and get in bed!” I look at the clock. “Nevermind. You can’t take a nap now because you’ll sleep too long. Just play with your toys and do NOT leave your room until I come get you.”

“Okay Mom. Don’t forget your hug!”

“What? You want a hug?” Seriously. The last thing I want to do is give you a hug. Why do you want a hug. I don’t want a hug.  “Why do you want a hug?”

“Because I love you Mom.”

Who is this child? Talk about a humbling experience.

“And a kiss Mom. I love you. Be happy.”

I mean really. Who can be mad at that?!

And then I go downstairs to finish the laundry and my show. And the baby wakes up. And the dog pees on the floor. And Lucy comes downstairs.

And, then, I found the masterpiece on my bedroom wall. And mirror. And the sink is stained purple, and the toiled is stained with purple foot prints. And there are little wads of wet purple toilet paper all around the sink.

Whatever.

*I still love her. It was kind of funny.

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The Birth Story Part II

* Read Part I Here.

I like to subtitle Part II: “Just In Case”.

So we returned from trying on tux’s around 8:00 PM. I was starting to feel a little nervous because my contractions were still regular. I was pacing around the kitchen trying to figure out what to do. I decided to make sure everything was clean, I double checked my luggage and made myself eat a grilled cheese. I didn’t feel too hungry but the last time I had a baby I couldn’t eat for like four days and I was starving to death so I wanted to eat something just in case.

I texted my friend who worked at the Hospital and told her that I might be seeing her and to save me a big room. I called my back-up care for Lucy and let her know that it “could” be the night. I didn’t call my Mom because she would worry and call me several times to ask how I was feeling and I didn’t want to deal with that in case they stopped.

I went to bed at 9pm. I wanted to get some sleep to prepare for a long night if what I thought might happen was going to happen. I wanted to go to bed because if the contractions were going to stop I wanted them to stop, like they had been every night before. I laid in my bed and prayed that they wouldn’t stop but if they did I wouldn’t be upset. I eventually drifted off to sleep but I kept waking up to the contractions. I tried to time them but I fell asleep every time they calmed. So, I would wake up, press start on my contraction tracker app and then fall asleep only to wake up again to the timer still running. Around 11-11:30, when I realized I had been sleeping and the contractions weren’t stopping, I decided to get up and take a shower. I timed the contractions while I was in the shower and they were consistently every three minutes. [Wash my hair, not wash my hair? Well, It looks good now, I should probably wash it but I don’t want to stay awake to straighten it and i don’t want to have curly hair in the pictures, so… I won’t wash it.] I was still in denial and just thought that they were going to stop so I honestly didn’t think anything of it. I did however have the good sense to make a list for Lucy just in case I didnt have time before I had to go to the hospital… if that was going to be the case.

I went back to bed and fell asleep for another few hours. I thank God for that last bit of sleep because it was awesome and I didn’t wake up once. well, until 3:30. Around 3:30am I woke up, there was no going back to sleep. The contractions were right on top of each other and I didn’t know what to do. [Crap. I think this is this. Oh no. What do I do? Should I wake up Ryan? I feel bad waking him up if it isn’t real. Should I call my Back-up? It’s too late, I don’t want to wake them up. Maybe I should call. Is this really happening?]

“Psst. Ryan. Ryan?”

“Huh?”

“Um, I’ve been having contractions. They aren’t stopping. I think maybe you should get into the shower.”

“Really? Uh, Can I work out first?”

“Um, well, I guess you can. Well, No, I think you should probably just get into the shower.”

“Okay.”

“Should I call Back-up? I don’t want to wake anyone up, but, I think we might have to go to the Hospital now.”

“Ok, yeah, I guess just call them.”

So I called my Aunt who was back-up #1. I called and she answered right away. Aunt Lisa? “Yes, Sunny?” Are you sleeping? “Yes, but that’s ok!” Oh, sorry for waking you up but… I think I need you to come over now. “Really? ok. We are out the door.” Are you sure? I feel bad. I just think we should go to the Hospital. “We will be there in a minute.” Thank you! Then I called my Mom:  “Mom, I think we are going to the Hospital. I will call you when we get there and let you know when to come”.

Mean while Ryan is in the shower and then he gets out. He gets dressed and I am zipping up our bags.  The contractions are now right on top of each other and there is no doubt that we have to go. I am starting to get panicked.

[So, screw that whole giving birth naturally thing. I want to be able to enjoy his birth (like it’s enjoyable?) and I don’t think I can like this. Yeah, I think I’m okay with that.]

Ryan starts emptying the dishwasher. “Ryan, are you really emptying the dishwasher? Stop that. We have to go. Oh no, we have to go now. I think we waited too long. I need your help. Oh shit. Oh shit we have to go. ” He comes into the bedroom to help me and I can barely walk. I start to cry. Well, kind of cry, it was more of a whiney worried crying noise. “They need to be here now. Like, ten seconds ago. Call your Mom, where is your Mom? We have to leave!” Ryan’s mom had been coming over every morning for the past 6 months to work out. She didn’t show up this morning. Mother-in-law fail.

Ryan tries to convince me it’s okay to leave since someone was on their way but I couldn’t justify leaving Lucy alone. “No, I can’t leave! I need to leave but I can’t leave.” We started walking towards the door to wait and I stop: “Oh crap. Oh no. Oh man. I am going to throw up or pass out. Let’s go. We have to go. We have to leave. Now. We waited too long. We waited too long.” I changed my mind. She could be alone.

As I wobble down the steps my back-up arrives. “Oh thank God.” I tried to talk to them and explain things but I couldn’t talk and all I could get out was: note. on table. gotto go. thanks.

I got to the car. I just looked at it. [I can’t sit down. I seriously can’t sit down. How in the world am I going to get in that car.] Somehow I managed to jump in. I laid straight back and threatened Ryan not to hit any bumps and to drive as fast as he could and I didn’t care if he had to get pulled over. At this point it is about 5:10am so thankfully the roads weren’t really congested. My eyes were closed the entire drive and all I could do was breathe and pray. And tell Ryan that we waited too long.  And that he needed to tell our parents to come ASAP because I had a feeling this baby was on its way. And breathe.

I am pretty sure Ryan was in denial himself because I don’t think he believed how sincere I was being with all of my commands. He actually asked me if he could park in the parking garage when we got to he hospital. Are you serious Ryan? No! I am about to have this baby in the car. Just drop me off and meet me in there. I have got to go!

So, he drops me off and somehow I make it inside the Emergency Room doors.

To be Continued…

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Happy Birthday Mamma!

My Mom is…

Generous. She is very generous with her time and is always willing to take the children off of my hands.

A Baker. My Mom is pretty much the best baker ever. There is not a sweet that she can’t make, nor is it anything less than amazing.

A Brunette. She has recently had an identity crisis and thinks she is a redhead. She is not.

 A Hard worker. My Mother has been working since she could walk. She has always worked hard for our family and continues to be an important asset

to her company. She has sacrificed a lot in her life to provide for herself and our family.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

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The Birth Story- Part I of 3

Monday, August 20, I had a followup appointment with my midwife. I am 1 week and three days late. At this appointment I was to be “checked” for effacement and dilation and to officially schedule my induction time for that Friday. At this point, I am assuming that I will have to be induced so I went to my appointment ready to ask to be induced that day. I rather just get it over with then have to wait another four days for the same thing to happen. [I guess my body just doesn’t like naturally giving birth to babies.] She said no. I was a little disappointed but I also knew that if that is what God wanted to happen she would have said yes. So, a little disappointed but I understood.

My mid-wife asked if I had the baby measured when I went in for fetal monitoring the week before. “Uh, no?”. “Well, I will make you an appointment right now.” Since I was considered a higher risk patient due to my previous C-section, it was important for them to know what to expect when trying for my VBAC.  If the baby was going to be too big, they would want to prepare and… you know… I don’t actually know every reason why they like to know, but they did mention that if they thought the baby was going to be “above average” they may just schedule a C-Section rather than put my body through the risk. [oh, great.]

Before I left I asked her to scrape my membranes again just to make sure and she sent me on my way complete with an appointment set for my induction that Friday. <Tear>

I called Ryan and then I called my Mother-in-law. You see, my mother-in-law, a strange woman she is. She could be on her death-bed or be suffering with a strange foot ailment for months (cough,cough) and not think that calling a doctor was important. With that being said, she DID NOT want me to drive or go anywhere by myself anytime I had to go somewhere after my due date. Legitimate reason I guess and I am grateful for her concern. I refused she attend my morning appointment but she insisted on attending my other appointment with me. It did turn out being very helpful because I had Lucy with me and I knew I was going to have to be hooked up for at least an hour and no way I could keep Lucy in the room with me. So, Thanks for that Carla!

Such mixed emotions. I am tired. Anxious. Drained. Excited. Sad. I was afraid to find out how big this baby was going to be. Lucy was predicted 8#10 oz and my doctor wanted to take her right away because “if she gets any bigger, I’m afraid you wont be able to have her naturally. Let’s avoid the risk of a C-section and go ahead and take her early.” End result- C-section (as you can see, I was having serious anxiety over this reoccurring scenario).

So, we get to the hospital for another Fetal Monitoring and a Baby Assessment. The Fetal Monitoring tracks your contractions and I was STILL having them and they were STILL pretty regular [I don’t care anymore, I’m just going to keep having them until they rip him out on Friday.]. I was called into the room for the measurement (man that warm belly gel is amazing! ) and as the Tech was moving the Ultrasound Stick (?) around my belly, Holy Crap! It felt like she was digging that thing into my skin. Come-on lady, that hurts! “Uh, could you hold on a sec. I’m having a contraction and that really hurts.” Yes, the contractions were hurting but what was hurting was her digging around on my belly while I was having one. I looked over at my MIL and said “That was a hard one! What time is it?” It was one o’clock. I liked to know what time the hard ones hit. I know it is important to time them but I just thought that I was never going to go into real labor so at this point, I always asked but I wasn’t keeping track. I am glad I asked now because for this reason I still remember what time it was.

The Tech lady leaves and comes back. “Well, It looks like this baby is going to be about 7lbs and 11oz.” Oh thank God! You have no idea the peace that came over me knowing that he was smaller. This took my anxiety of having a big baby naturally way, way down. I was so relieved. The conversation I had with my MIL in the car went like this (this is important to know for part three): Me: Honestly, I am a little surprised that he is going to be smaller because he feels bigger inside than Lucy did, but everyone keeps telling me I look smaller so I guess they are right. I am just so, so relieved. This makes me feel so much less nervous. I mean, he is a boy and I want him to be bigger but I don’t want to deliver a big baby so this is such an answer to prayer. Phew. So relieved. Carla: That’s good. I am glad you feel that way (her lack of response is important for later on in the story)!

Later in the afternoon, my contractions were more regular than normal and a tad stronger. I guess stronger and more regular that I noticed. I, like most Mothers to be, wants everything to be ready and perfect for when that time comes. Everything clean, organized and waiting. In case this was the beginning of “the real thing” I wanted to go to the grocery store.  My MIL didn’t like the idea so she insisted on coming with me. We went. She carried everything. I made sure all of the laundry was caught up which of course it was because I had been doing laundry excessively for the past three weeks. If it was made of fabric, it had been washed. I even washed and bleached my shower curtain and the liner (you can do that you know!).

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I do remember that Ryan came home from work while I was putting the groceries away. “We have to go get measured for Josh’s Wedding tonight. Today is the last day.” Can I come too? I don’t want to sit around here by myself anxiously waiting and then being disappointed and frustrated if nothing happens. I need to keep my mind off of things. “Sure.”  (This is a useless conversation that you don’t need to know but while I was trying to remember I just thought I would throw it in for effect, you know, so you can get the real picture. Ha.)

I pulled out a gallon of ice cream. I ate 2/3 of it right out of the carton. I was hungry and I didn’t feel like making or eating anything. So, I ate ice cream. I loved ice cream. I ate it everyday of my pregnancy. It often made me sick but I ate it anyway because it was refreshing and easy to digest with such a large belly. Ryan says to me as I am bent over the counter with the carton and spoon in hand: ” What, are you trying to force him out by way of Ice Cream?” I laughed. I have no guilt.

 

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

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