The Trouble with Labels

A great discussion after yoga class this morning has had me wondering all day- what would you choose to be if you removed all the labels you place on yourself?

Seriously. Maybe they're characteristics of a particular season in your life in which others identified you- just adjectives from adolescence or childhood- and you just accepted them as permanent fixtures, adopted them as your very nature.  Or maybe they're self-proclaimed, true tendencies, and you wear them like a badge.  But let's think about it for a second.

I convinced myself I was made a certain way for much of my life.  I'm a procrastinator. I'm lazy. Incapable of finishing what I start. Naturally good at math, science,  and music, but too undisciplined to be great at any of them. Bad knees. Eating issues. Genetically incapable of being an athlete of any sort. Big boned with a slow metabolism (my favorite)... the list goes on.

It was true.  I was all of these.  But here's the deal- it's who I was and who I remained because I accepted those things and they became my excuses. I didn't struggle through them to be more of what I wanted. I instead struggled to accept them... and accepting most of them truly was a struggle for me because I didn't like some of those traits. In acceptance, though, they became road blocks that held me back, and I grew comfortable in my box just saying, "Oh, that's cool, but I could never do that. I'm too _________. I'm content where I am."  But I wasn't.

I didn't want to be (mostly self) labeled as lazy anymore, so I got off the couch to knock out daily "to do" lists and learned (ok, still learning) how to better manage my time.  I didn't want to be someone who didn't finish what I started, so I took one step after another to finish whatever it was. Everyday was a choice to counteract those habits I wanted to change. Am I still a procrastinator by nature?  Yes, but I don't like that, so I recognize the behavior and make a conscious choice to change it when I see it.

Of course, in all of this, I realize that my childhood dream of being an Olympic gymnast is beyond me now, but that doesn't stop me from bending over backwards, flipping around, and enjoying the movement my body grows more capable of everyday. At almost 37 years old, it's almost the same thing, right? I still have bad knees, but I don't let them stop me from making steps toward my physical fitness goals.  I just go slower (because it is important to recognize limits and not injure yourself.)

The hardest realization is when I find myself doing it to my children, describing them to people as this or that, and boxing them in, however unintentionally. I believe we are each given certain gifts we should nurture and develop, and we are absolutely led by certain traits. I encourage my kids to seek those out, but I don't believe they (or we) should be limited to activities, careers, etc. based on predisposition, genetic or otherwise.  I try to be very careful of my words now. I want my children to own who they are, but I want them to find the balance to know when to move if they want something more or different.

All I'm saying is this- if you want something, figure out what it is keeping you from it, and tear down that wall one small brick at a time. Be good to yourself along the way. The journey can be long and riddled with ridiculous opinions and hardships. But strip yourself of the labels, even just for a second, to imagine all that you've ever dreamed of being, and let nothing stop you in that pursuit, especially not your own perception.

Under the Influence of Little Boy Humor

Double-take at Target yesterday... I was *certain* I saw "pillowFART" while making my way to the home goods department clearance end-cap.

Every little girl's dream bedding, right? 😂

Now, it would've been a down-right riotous scene, if I had been in the company of my boys. Or at least, there would've been a greater display of appreciation for the mistake.  As it was, the woman perusing the cozy Snuggies at the end of the aisle thought I was unquestionably insane based on the hysterical laughter coming from this solitary soul.  I may have even snorted.

Apparently, this is the result of spending the entirety of my days with three boys between the ages of six and twelve.

Domino Toppler Extraordinaire

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I don't get that question much anymore, because, well... I'm 36. Grown. But don't you know, it still applies!I wear many of those proverbially hats people are always going on about. First and foremost, you can label me the typical wife & mother, of the "stay home" variety. We'll throw "tattooed and sometimes scandalously clad homeschooling momma" in there together, just to be more specific, and because it's fun to see the look of surprise on people's faces when slaying their vision of the stereotypical, sheltered homeschool type. That makes me a teacher, too, though I tutor more than my own spawn. And because that's not enough to keep my two hands occupied, I've passionately adopted the title of small business owner, times 2, making gourmet jams & jellies with my best friend, and building my own little branch of the most fabulous health & wellness company 'round these parts. Together, these make up only a small portion of the dreams I'm setting out to realize. My desire is to be the the most eclectic combination of all these professions, as well as yoga instructor, farmer, and writer. Interesting fusion, right?

Its a mouthful of an answer, too, so I've invented a better, all encompassing title, however vaguish it might be. For the sake of simplicity, and because I doubt the defining of who I am will stop with merely these fine adventures, I've chosen to designate my pursuits and achievements under the title of...

Domino Toppler.

That's right! I'm gonna set those little dominoes up one at a time, and then I'll knock 'em all down, insuring that each falls right into its perfect place, creating the flawless masterpiece of the run. I'm fully expecting crazy looks when entertaining anyone who dares ask what I do, but at the very least it would be an interesting conversation & far better than the "jill-of-all-trades" response. 

Further more, the one thing I've learned in life, and will be passing on to my unsocialized weirdos, is this... I define who I am, and I don't concern myself with the likes of titles others bestow upon me.

Cold Feet

Another whirlwind vacation of traveling five major interstates spanning eight southern states in a minivan with two exhausted adults, three restless children, two chihuahua half-breeds, a squeaky gerbil, and all the baggage that comes with each, emotional or otherwise.  The whole trip- for two weeks of an unusually warm winter- my poor ten toes have been ice cold!

Virginia to Alabama.  A short visit with good friends, where my toesies were unhappily reminded that all thermostats are not set to my ambient winter temperature of "toasty."

Alabama to Texas.  An 80 degree Christmas, the warmest in recent Houston history, where two new pairs of shoes were purchased; one for running and one for church to match the more temperature-appropriate new Christmas dress.  Neither provided the warmth my little piggies seemed to crave.

Texas to Georgia. The much cooler New Year holiday spent snuggled in borrowed UGA slippers and my husband's dress socks in a home with poor engineerical planning for the FROG... or was it the industrial sized freezer our bed was made in?  I'm not sure!

And now Georgia back home to Virginia.  My forever-frozen footsies still desperately seeking heat as we make our way further north.  Today's attempts include huddling together in the warmth of the dash board vent and the recently-elusive dazzling rays of sunshine.

Still cold.

But they will be tucked in the cozy comfort of their own bed soon.  They are happy, happy feet after all for all the miles traveled.  As am I, still filled with the magic of every warm embrace given by loved ones seen far too infrequently.

What Kind of Cheeseburger Do You Want to Be?

Would you rather be a cheeseburger from Red Robin or McDonald's?

This may seem like a very silly question to you (unless you've recently participated in one of the many Buzz Feed quizzes currently circulating on Facebook), but it was in a moment of insane and sheer parenting desperation that I asked my son this very question.

We are coming off of a really tough couple of days.  There has been a lot of whining, fighting, and just plain ole grumpiness in our house this week.  Everything I have asked of my boys has been met with resistance and frustration.  Sadly, the bad attitudes haven't only belonged to my children either, and yesterday I reached my limit.  Each child took a turn throwing their own little fit…

And then it was my turn.

I try very hard not to yell at my kids.  I am no expert at parenting, but I have been doing it long enough to realize that irrationally screaming at them doesn't do any of us much good.  I learned this lesson years ago when I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was angrily shouting about the importance of obedience.  As you can imagine, the distorted fury on my face wasn't pretty.  It still happens more often than I'd care to admit, but I'm learning to at least recognize my limits.  Yesterday, as I crossed the border of rationality into insanity, I simply retreated to my room for a much needed "timeout."

Twenty minutes later, it was Christian who braved the uncertainty of Mom's mood and quietly came into my room, his face still stained with the tears from a battle over what little homeschool work he had been given that morning.

 At first, I didn't dare open my mouth.  I wasn't sure what he wanted or where it would go, but as he stepped closer to me with the clear intention of apologizing, I asked him, "What kind of cheeseburger would you rather be- one from Red Robin or one from McDonald's?"

I'm not really sure where it came from and I'm almost certain by the look on his face he was thinking, "That's it- call the looney bin!  She's lost her mind for sure this time," BUT I had his attention, and so I ran with it!

"Let me explain,"  I said.  "If we were going out to dinner and your choices were Mickey D's or Red Robin, which would you choose?"

"Red Robin," he answered.

"Why?"

"I like their food better."

"Me, too.  Red Robin's burgers are made of better beef, fresher ingredients, and served on a real plate.  They put more time and effort into creating their meals, don't they?  And they have better customer service, all making a visit to Red Robin more enjoyable and worth the higher price.

"THAT is what your father and I are trying to do with you.  If we invest in you by teaching you good manners, responsibility, independence, and we give you the opportunity for the best academic education possible, we're hoping you'll grow up to be… well… great cheeseburgers… or the best human beings you can be anyway."

He giggled, and with it came the very moment we needed to turn our day around.

I continued, "It's important though for you to invest in yourselves as well.  You have to want to be better burgers, and it isn't always easy.  It takes dedication in the pursuit of self-improvement.  That is why you're assigned the school work and chores you're given and why I expect you to do them with happy hearts.  They are meant to enrich your lives and make you better people.  Does that make sense to you?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

"So again I ask, what kind of burger do you want to be?"

"Definitely a Red Robin cheeseburger," he said with a grin stretching across his face.

"Good.  Now send Julian in here so he can understand the importance of being a good cheeseburger, too."

And with a hug, he gave another giggle as he ran off to find his brother.   As he did, I took one more moment to myself- but this time, it wasn't a "timeout."  It was more of a "holy-cow-that-just-happened."  I actually found a way, however off the wall, to explain to my boys that our expectations of them are not so we can call ourselves rulers of this little 3-man army we've made, but for their own health and well-being!

I'm not sure how long this light bulb will stay on.  It seems I've been repeating myself for years, and we've had so-called breakthrough moments before that have been shorter lived than I expected.  What I do know is I reached my kids better in that 5 minute conversation than I had in the few weeks leading up to it.  The rest of the evening went much smoother, too; school work that wasn't even assigned was completed, floors were swept and vacuumed without a word from me, and happily everyone's attitude was on the mend.  This morning I even awoke to Christian copying his charts for his Essentials class!  (If you knew how hard it was to get this kid to pick up a pencil, you would understand my elation in this gesture of his!)

So, now I am armed with the "Red Robin cheeseburger" weapon against defiance, and a once-again renewed perspective on parenting.  Discipline of all sorts will always be in my armory, but I won't forget that creative parenting strategies often throw their game off just enough to cross the great divide between parent and child, and truly move mountains.

A Blue Balloon for Walker

Walker's birthday is today, February 20th... and he's celebrating his 10th birthday in heaven.

In 2008, a few years before we moved to Chesapeake and met the Gorney family, Walker, their youngest son died after a rigorous five months of treatment fighting childhood cancer.  Since his passing, every year on this day, family and friends send balloons of blue, his favorite color up to heaven.  I've known him only in pictures and stories, but he is not a child I will soon forget.

Walker Gorney
February 20, 2004-April 11, 2008

We've known Charlie, Laura, and their other two children, Mason and Aliya for almost 4 years now.  Laura was a mother in my Chesapeake area MOPS group.  It turned out they were also our neighbors and lived just a few streets over.  Laura is an out-going person, and like me, very open about her life story.  Though I was new to the group, it wasn't long before we were sharing our tales of adoption and loss.  At the time, Laura and Charlie had just begun the process of adopting their little girl, Aliya, and it seemed we were placed in the same MOPS group together, along with another adoptive mother by more than just chance.  It was the same year our family was reunited with Zach; a time of great rejoicing and need of support for our family.  There was much love in this group of ladies- for each of us in our precise time of need.

I have heard other stories of families experiencing various degrees of loss, including of their children, but never known any of them quite as closely as we have the Gorneys.  Perhaps it was this, or that Christian was born just a few months before Walker.  Whatever the reason, I have always been deeply affected by their loss.  This year, however, it has been made more real to me than ever before- as much as it can be for anyone who has never lost a child.

At dinner this past Monday, I was telling Carlos that Walker's birthday was coming up and that Laura was participating for the second time with the 46 Mommas in their Shave for the Brave event to be held in Boston this July.  Our boys asked about Walker.  As the youngest, Adrian, of course had the most questions.  We explained as best we could, but when I told them Walker was only four when he died, Adrian immediately shouted, "He's my age!"

I hadn't even realized.

It took everything I had to hold back the tears.  To look into the face of Adrian and know Laura was forced to say goodbye to her son at his age is heart breaking.  And then to look at Christian and Julian and know she has missed seeing him grow through the ages of 7 and 10 is completely unfathomable.  I've watched the Gorneys make their journey along the never-ending path of healing and life on earth without Walker.  I've seen Laura struggle with feelings of life and loss that I can't possibly understand, nor could anyone who hasn't buried a child, and even in those struggles with anger and the deepest hurt imaginable, she wakes up every morning and presses on.  More than that, Laura and her entire family are in a constant and passionate pursuit to honor Walker by participating in organizations that support research and funding for childhood cancer.

There are many, many types of childhood cancer and the statistics are staggering.  These cancers claim the lives of more children than any other childhood disease, and worldwide, every three minutes another kid is diagnosed.  Most of the time, the cancer has already spread to other areas of the body by the time of diagnosis.  These are just a few of the facts that organizations like St. Baldrick's and Alex's Lemonade Stand are raising funds to fight, alongside the families, like the Gorneys, affected by all forms of childhood cancer.

Our family has chosen to support Charlie and Laura in their pursuit both financially and in prayer.  I hope you will consider doing the same in any capacity of which you are capable.  This week, in honor of their son, the Gorneys are matching all $10 donations to Laura's participation in Shave for the Brave.  I have included links below for further information about childhood cancer, a few of the organizations that support research efforts, and, of course the web pages that share the story of our dear friends, the Gorneys in their own words.

Today and always, we send our love to Walker in heaven and to Charlie, Laura, Mason, and Aliya in Chesapeake.

Links:
Support Laura Gorney's participation in the 46 Mommas Shave for the Brave
Support Walker's brother, Mason as a St. Baldrick's participant
Walker Gorney's story through CaringBridge
46 Mommas Shave for the Brave
Statistics from St. Baldrick's
Statistics from Alex's Lemonade Stand

Blue Balloons for Walker ~ Feb 20, 2014

Boys Are Too Funny (and Gross)

I have to warn you, this story falls under the TMI category, but it was too funny not to share. :o)

Just moments ago, Juju told me with the most serious of faces, "Mommy, I didn't know butts could make colors!"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, because I truly had no idea what he meant. In my best Mommy's-trying-to-be-calm voice with every worst case scenario running through my mind I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just went poo and it was green... really green!"

I know this may sound strange to anyone without children, but hearing "green poo" was best case scenario here. I was sure he meant something far worse involving tushies and paints and, more than likely carpets or walls. You just never know with the frat boys I have running around this house!

So, after I had a good laugh, I reminded him he had had a blue raspberry Italian Ice at a Hunt Club birthday party yesterday. Naturally, (maybe "unnaturally" would be more appropriate here) the massive amounts of blue dye in any frozen treat will, as we've experienced so often in the past, turn poo green. You'd think they could just add the flavoring! But, what fun would it be if your customers didn't experience the Smurf faces, hours of soaking laundry, and, of course, the green poo?

A little side note here- CJ bought two Italian Ices that day. In addition to the bright blue raspberry for Juju, he allowed Coco to get the really red cherry despite the other color/flavor combos being a colorless lemon and a dull orange colored mango. I'm all for fun, but I shamelessly (and for selfish reasons) encourage the low dye flavors. Can you tell who does the laundry and wipes the butts in our home?

Anyway, that's my little ditty for the day.

A Preschool Problem

Juju got his first homework assignment for Preschool today. I know I'm no grammar expert, and I'm sure as you're reading this you will find several errors if you are, but I was a bit disturbed when I began looking over the teacher's instructions for the assignment and found myself rereading it several times. It was full of grammatical errors and my brain just wasn't getting it!

I certainly wouldn't want to embarass this teacher; we like her very much, and I would never voice my opinion (or concern) to Juju, but one has to wonder. Was her "Grammar Check" just off? Was she in a hurry? Did she use another person's letter and just not proof-read it? Or has she just spent too much time speaking to 3 & 4 year olds?

Let me be clear- a few mistakes are alright, and even "human," but this was bad!

I don't know. Maybe I'm being overly critical, but see for yourself and comment if you feel so inclined. I've copied the letter below, word for word, comma for comma (or lack of comma, as the case may be), and perhaps you will understand:

"Dear Parents,
I am allowing the children to develop their own classroom rule book, but they will need your help in doing this.
I have explain to them I would like them to help me make a book of rules for the classroom so everybody can be safe and have more fun. I have given each child a piece of paper and ask each child to think of a rule that he or she thinks is important. Next I have also ask him or her to draw a picture of it. This is where you come in, please help them write sentences about the rules as your child dictate it. This is a homework project for both you and your child to do together. Please return it back on Wednesday or sooner if possible. I look forward to seeing what the both of you have come up with.
HAPPY RULEING TOGETHER......

Sincerely,
Your teacher..."

So? Is it me or is there a problem here? I don't know a whole lot about this woman, but when we met her she was well-spoken and seemed experienced, so I'm just assuming this was a fluke. Still, she's teaching my son. Now I'm not yanking him out of school or anything, but I would like to see a little more pride and professionalism in the teacher's work. Can I get an "Amen?"

Bowen's Heart

The radio dial in my car is set to K-love, a Christian radio station that is broadcast nationally. The music lifts me up each day with positive lyrics and encouraging stories of God's love. Emmersing my family in the powerful message of God's wonder just seems like a great way to start off every day.

Recently, on the Lisa & Eric show, I was introduced to a powerful story of one family's struggle with their newborn baby boy's diaginosis of a rare congenital heart defect- a life threatening defect. Baby Bowen was born already fighting for his life and faced a major heart surgery shortly after birth. The Hammitt family's trust in the Lord, their faith, and their strength is more than amazing, and then their willingness to share these most intimate moments is awe inspiring. I urge you to visit their blog at http://www.bowensheart.com/ and follow their story. Pray for them... pray with them. Let this family's struggle and the faith they have to conquer it move you, as it has moved me.

TGIF

Due to a bit of writer's block, I've been unable to blog about a few things I've been thinking about lately, so I've decided to take a different approach to it. Today, I'm just adding a few random blurbs in Twitter-like fashion (only without character limits) to share our Friday with you.

5:40 a.m. Addie is awake (for the 3rd time). No one else is.

5:41 a.m. Everyone is awake... and wishing baby teeth would just come in already!

5:42 a.m. My determination to make the morning go smoothly despite a rough start kicks into overdrive.

7:11 a.m. Walk Coco to the bus stop. Last day of the first week of school. *Sigh!* Momma's finally not feeling so crazy now that (the 2 biggest of) my little boogers have something to do during the day.

7:36 a.m. Bought a new kitchen gadget last week and it's getting its daily workout. I heart smoothies!

7:38 a.m. This Weight Watcher thing's not so bad. Too bad I didn't stick with it through the move; I might've been 15 lbs lighter already! Oh well,... you have to [re]start somewhere. Carpe diem, right?

8:00 a.m. Just have to post a status update to my Alabama Facebook friends about how wonderful our weather is here. Currently 62 with a high today of 80. *Another sigh!* I think we'll visit the zoo today!

8:51 a.m. Four jealous FB friends have posted comments! :o) I'm expecting a few more before the end of the day.

9:00 a.m. Addie (unwillingly) goes down for a nap. Got to get ready while I can,... and watch a little 7th Heaven. I know, but I'm a sucker for sappy family TV. Thank you, WGN for the Camden family reruns!

10:20 a.m Juju's a happy camper- Preschool's only 3 half-days a week, leaving 2 to spend with Momma & Addie. It's the best of both worlds! Momma's a happy camper- no midday Preschool pick up on Fridays (or Mondays). To the zoo we go!

11:01 a.m. Lunch in the Okavango Delta. Weight Watcher challenge #1- find something on the menu to eat that doesn't "cost" 100 points. Grilled chicken sandwich (plain) sounds OK, but how does it taste? Turns out, pretty good! Chicken nuggets & fries for the picky 4 year old.

11:26 a.m. Laugh at the momma giraffe for eating off the ground when there's a full feeding post right next to her.

11:39 a.m. Laugh at the elephant for throwing dust all over herself and then laugh again when it blows into us.

12:34 p.m. Laugh at the goose wandering around the zoo, as if taunting the captive animals.

12:42 p.m. Laugh at the turkey while running from him!

1:00 p.m. Laugh at the Squirrel Monkeys laughing at Juju.

1:11 p.m. Laugh at myself for leaving Juju on the 6' Tortoise statue as I head for the gates.

1:12 p.m. CJ calls as we walk to the car. He's on his way home, too! My Coastie has an awesome work schedule!

2:45 p.m. Coco jumps off the bus and runs at me, arms open wide. "Mommy, I missed you!" [insert tearfully happy emoticon here.] Hoping Juju doesn't spill the beans about our zoo trip just yet.

3:39 p.m. Addie's down for Nap, Round 2, CJ is taking his Friday afternoon snooze, and the big boys are watching PBS Kids. *Yet another sigh!*

5:04 p.m. Hunger is taking over and I've got WW points to spend! Buffalo Wild Wings isn't exactly Weight Watcher friendly, but I have 21 points to spend!

5:21 p.m. Mmmmmm! (Sorry, my mouth's full!)

6:00 p.m. Full bellies. We're walking it off at Target then heading home for a few snuggles before bedtime. It's the highlight of my day.

8:30 p.m. Tuck my babies into bed! "I love you to the moon & back!" to which they respond, "I love you to the moon in the front!" The way children think always makes me smile. :o)

8:30 p.m. + 30 seconds My babies are sound asleep! First week of school has been exhausting!

8:31 p.m. An important time of night- enjoying the company of my husband. Getting and giving undivided attention. (Well, sometimes I compete with the TV!)

10:00 p.m. Thank You, Lord for peaceful, happy, beautiful Fridays and the wonderful family You've given me to spend them with!

(And thank you for sharing it with me!)

Saturday

This morning started with a tummy ache. I knew something wasn't right when the child cuddling in bed with me was Juju. Sleeping in with Mommy and Papi is generally no match for Saturday morning cartoons, and though the TV was on and calling, there he snuggled. I remember thinking just how nice it was to have my middle baby there in the middle of CJ and I,...

and then he started squirming in discomfort. "You're not feeling well, are you, Baby? Does your tummy..." and before I could finish my question, BLEH... the puking began.

Now, normally, I'm quite nurturing; I am a mommy afterall, but my first thought was containment. How do I prevent the rest of the family, especially little Addie, from catching what could be the dreaded stomach bug? Shame on me, I know. If I wouldn't give my child a hug after vomitting, no one would, right? After comforting him and reassuring him that my love was unconditional (meaning "even with chunks in my hair and down my shirt"), I changed our sheets, kicking a very sleepy Papi out of bed and doused the room in Lysol.

CJ and I decided it best for one of us to take the other two kids out for the day, and given the choice, Juju wanted his Papi, so I packed up the baby and Coco and out we went. Coco and I rarely have time to spend together since he started school, and though shopping isn't exactly his idea of a good time, he was happy to get some "mommy time." A Roly Poly lunch and a "treasure hunt" at Hudson's later, I called CJ and he said Juju had eaten several hours before and was feeling 100%. Bullet dodged. Still, we kept all of them from the party they were to attend, and Juju will miss church tomorrow, just as a precaution. Hubby will be homebound again; I have rotation in the nursery.

What started out as a highly questionable day turned into a sigh of relief and some good quality time with the oldest, most neglected son... Thank goodness!

Party of Five

Our Family is now a family of five! Woohoo! Addie made his grand entrance on Friday, January 15 at 9:44 in the morning. It was an interesting journey that ended (though it has really just begun) with all the excitement that you would expect from the birth of a baby boy... and then some!

When we went to the hospital early Friday morning, I was convinced that there was NO WAY they would send me home after having contractions that had begun the evening before and only intensified to an incredible pain just after midnight. Afterall, I had a c-section scheduled for the very reason that the doctors didn't want me laboring on my previously disected uterus. Of course, as soon as I was hooked up to the monitors, my contractions subsided; I only had two in the hour they had me strapped down. The midwife that was on call in triage told me it was a result of my body producing adrenaline and that it was quite common for contractions to stop after coming in. Nevertheless, she told me to get dressed- I was going home. "You'll likely labor for several days before it's time," she told me. I couldn't help but cry.

"But I'm a c-section," I protested as she left the room.

A few minutes later, I heard her talking to the on-call doctor just outside my door, following which she stuck her head in the room and said, "Get your gown back on. You're staying to have your baby!" Apparently, a shift change had occurred and the information that I was a repeat c-section had not been shared with the new shift. Needless to say, I was elated that I wasn't being sent packing!

It was only another hour before the were wheeling me into surgery. The real excitement was about to begin. I patiently awaited the sounds of my baby boy's cries with my husband at my side. I caught a glimpse of the surgery in the reflection of the lights and watched as Addie was delivered. To my delight, he was handed off to the pediatric resident, Dr. Kari, who happens to be a very good friend of mine. It was good to know someone WE knew so well was taking care of our baby.

They announced he was a healthy 7 lbs 8.5 oz and doing well, though he was having a bit of trouble breathing- a problem common with babies delivered via c-section. After an hour or so in the NICU on oxygen, he was doing great and on his way down to the Newborn Nursery.

Meanwhile, back down in recovery, CJ had just been brought in to where I was and Kari had come in to give us an update on Addie. Suddenly, CJ dropped to his knees and hit his head on my bed, splitting his forehead open. I didn't know it, but he had taken some cold medicine before we left home at 4:30 a.m. and had absolutely nothing to eat or drink since. (It was almost 11:30 a.m. by then.) Kari and the Recovery Room nurse took him down to the Emergency Room to have stitches. Luckily, Dermabond did the trick. After getting some food in his belly, he was better and back by my side in no time. When we made it up to my room, the news of CJ's fall had made it around the hospital, much to his dismay. Every nurse that came in was just as concerned for him as they were for me. It was really quite sweet, but I think HE found it to be a bit embarassing.

After a whirlwind of five days in the hospital, both Addie and I were on our way home. It's a good thing, too- I was ready to hang curtains and move the furniture around in my hospital room. I was truly climbing the walls, but I did my best to take advantage of the staff and their help.


It's been a little over a week since Addie arrived and we are quite the happy little family. I'm recovering well and Addie has made himself very comfortable amoungst the chaos of our household. Adjusting to three kiddos has been much easier on all of us, even Juju and Coco, than two ever was. Clearly, we've been busy or I would have posted this little announcement sooner, but thus goes the life of a family with a newborn, right?

The Waiting Game

CJ and I are expecting our 3rd son... well, really any day now. I am 37 weeks and 5 days pregnant (Of course I'm counting!) and my c-section has been scheduled for the 20th of January. If I make it until then, it will have been the longest pregnancy I've ever had. Ugh!

For a little over a week, I have been obsessing about how far away the 20th sounded and searching for ways I could possibly move things along (in the safest ways possible), but following an appointment this past Wednesday that showed no further progress and wallowing in the disappointment of not thinking we would meet our son anytime soon, I settled on acceptance. I spent that evening praying, not that God would move it along, but that I could accept that Baby Addie would come when he was darn good and ready. God is good, God is great, and He has granted me great relief in fulfilling my request. Lucky for me, the past two days have been much more relaxing. I've enjoyed cuddling with our older boys, one on each side of me in the recliner (What will I do with a 3rd?) and doing activities that, as restricted as I am now (and by "restricted" I mean "big"), will be impossible after surgery, like playing cars or legos with them on the floor. I've also taken great advantage (and this is a biggie) of the sweet slumber that will surely elude me with a newborn in the house. I also must remind myself that, as uncomfortable as pregnancy can be, not only has it been a healthy one, but it is also the last moments I will feel the miracle of a child growing inside of me. We have no plans of having anymore children, so though sometimes painful, I am enjoying the last little kicks and rolls that Baby Addie dishes out.

The point is, I see the glass half full now, and while we are still anxious to meet our newest baby boy, we know how quickly time truly flies and he will be here before we know it. I know we'll even look back in a year or two and wonder when all of our babies became big boys. Then, I'll be blogging about how I wish the time would slow down!

And so, I leave you now with this question to ponder. Why do we always think we know what is best for us and fight so hard to steer God's plans for us even when we truly think we believe we are in His wonderful hands? Perhaps I will "go there" in my next blog, but this question surely deserves some thought.