Putting Resentment to Rest

Everyday we wake up so unaware. We have no idea what the day ahead holds. Sometimes we get to the end of it and realize that it was a great day, and other times...we don't even want to think about it. Sometimes the day can't end fast enough. Because then tomorrow can come, and we can start fresh.

Today was one of those not-so-great days.

We're in the fully-committed phase of potty training (the fully committed person being me), so I've already changed a certain two-year-old's panties four times. She's on her fifth pair. And that was all before 1:00 pm. Two of those clean ups involved poop. All of this after staying dry all day yesterday. If that doesn't tell you that this girl knows exactly what to do and simply chooses when to do it, I don't know what does.

Logan goes to preschool on MWF. I got four people fed, dressed, teeth brushed (only three on that one), and out the door on time. I packed Logan a nutritious snack of strawberries, carrot sticks, and goldfish, filled his cup with ice water, and put everything in his backpack. We got all the way to preschool when I discovered that after all my hard work, Logan hadn't managed to put his backpack in the car. I got to drive to and from the school twice, bringing my total driving time (plus loading, unloading, loading the girls) to almost an hour and a half. His preschool is only three hours long.

I made lunch for everyone. I got each kid down for their afternoon naps. I decided to be diligent and unload the dishwasher and then reload the dishwasher. I sat down to finally enjoy some downtime when Ollie woke up from her nap. No downtime for this mama.

With Ollie in tow, I watched the next lesson on the Six Truths of Motherhood I've been watching the last few days. My Bible reading has been fairly non-existent of late, and my excuse is always, "By the time I get the kids down--for nap or bed--I'm too tired to read anything. My brain feels like mush." But you know what I can do? I can listen. I am 100% a visual learner. I am not good at solely listening to a lesson. Learning to take notes in middle school and high school is the only reason I didn't fail every class I ever took. I wrote down everything my teachers said. If I could later read it--see it--I would remember it. And I love reading. I miss reading. But right now, I just can't do it. I'm just too tired or worn out. But watching a lesson on motherhood and the struggles we face and the joys we experience, I have no excuse not to do that. And it has been so incredibly helpful. Today the lesson was on resentment. Initially I thought, "This probably won't apply to me a whole lot." But then she started talking. And by the end of the lesson, not only had it applied to me, but I was in tears. Because without even realizing it, I've been living with a heart full of resentment for weeks. Maybe longer. And it's miserable.

Because, you see, everything that went wrong today, in my very resentful head, wouldn't have happened if we hadn't moved.

If we hadn't moved, I might have potty trained Raelyn a couple months ago, and I'd be done with it by now. If we hadn't moved, Logan would still be going to preschool for five and a half hours a day, not three. And Raelyn would be going too! He may have still left his backpack, but I would have still had hours of fewer-kids-time after dropping it off. And with this time extra time, my two older kids would nap at school (so I wouldn't even have had to do nap time--hallelujah!), and Ollie waking up from her nap wouldn't have mattered because I would have had some downtime already. If only we hadn't moved. But you know what? While some of that might be true, some of it is a bunch of hogwash. And the truth of it is, if I wanted to, I could look at all the good things that happened today instead of the bad. And believe it or not, there might even be a lot.
Let's see...
After making two round trips to the preschool, my neighbor (whose kids go to the same preschool as Logan) was willing to pick Logan up for me, so I wouldn't have to load the girls up again. If we hadn't moved, I wouldn't have had that.
My kids ate their lunches today without complaint.
Raelyn has actually used the potty more than she's had accidents. (And one of those accidents hardly counts because she caught herself pretty quickly and mostly peed on the potty.) And she woke up from her nap dry!!
I didn't have to go anywhere to get some sweet tea, because my husband picked up a free gallon of it last week. If we hadn't moved... that gallon would have cost nearly $7.00.
Travis got home at 4:00!

There are always going to be things that just don't go right. But there will also be things that are great--if we're willing to look for them. Every time I'm in an argument with Travis about anything, I have to bite my tongue not to say "If you hadn't made us move, we wouldn't need that/that wouldn't have happened/my day would have been better/etc."... but that's not fair to him. We made the decision to move together because we felt like it was what the Lord wanted for us. To resent him for something I agreed to and that the Lord led us to, is not only unfair, it's wrong. And today I'm owning that. I'm accepting that this move has been hard, but it's also been great. The Lord knew my biggest fear about moving was trying to start over and make new friends--so He provided friendly neighbors that welcomed us so quickly and gave us immediate community. I've started a "Focus on the Good" list... and it's making me a more pleasant mom, wife, and person.

Kid Quotes/Stories:
-Travis: [to the fussing kids in the car] Guys, look out the window. Count the cactuses.
 [Five minutes later]
 Logan: Daddy, what comes after 59?
 Moral of the story: there are a lot of cactuses here (or cacti, if "cactuses" bothers you)
-Raelyn: Can I plug it out? [When you think about it, that makes a lot more sense than "unplug it."]
-Logan: Daddy, let's drive to go visit nature!
-Me: [while in the car] Logan, is Ollie awake or asleep?
 Logan: She's asleep.
 Raelyn: She's awake.
 Logan: No, Raelyn. She's asleep!
 Raelyn: She's awake!
 Me: Raelyn can't even see Ollie, Logan. Please just ignore her.
 [Raelyn always says the opposite of what Logan says, because she knows it's going to upset him. And it does. Every. Single. Time.]
-Logan: Mommy, we can be lots of things when we grow up, right?
 Me: Sure.
 Logan: Because I'm going to be a firefighter on a moto-cycle and a police and an ambulance and a garbage truck and a football player.
 Kid's got dreams!
-Raelyn: We have robots in our house?
 Me: No, we don't have robots.
 Raelyn: Why?
-Logan: So that just happened.

Tales of Tucson and the Twos

This has been a long month. Must have something to do with starting the month in one state and ending it in another. And I haven't quite figured out the logic behind it yet, but switching to a two hour time difference is much harder than it should be. We managed to overcome a thirteen hour time difference when we went back to Indonesia for Christmas a year and a half ago--and that included two-year-old Logan and seven-month-old Raelyn. A week or so later, and we had flipped our days and nights. Then we move to Arizona and it takes forever to adjust back two hours. The kids are finally waking up at or a bit after 6:00, but we had to put up curtains for that to happen. I don't know if we'll ever get back to 7:00 wake ups. Most of our boxes are unpacked, though the dismantled boxes have taken over half of our garage. We've never moved to a similarly-sized house before, so it was a bit of a surprise to find that even with the same amount of space, it's all distributed differently, so things don't fit the same way they did before. The two older kids are sharing a room--by choice, I might add. They love sharing a room. I don't know that I love it quite so much--mainly at night when they won't stop talking or singing for hours. [They no longer nap in the same room. It was most assuredly not working.] But I'm also glad they have fun together! Speaking of the kids...

...so when Logan turned two, I had prepared myself for the ominous "terrible twos." I was all set to take them head on, no hesitation, I was ready. But then, the twos were wonderful. I mean, there were still frustrating days, of course. But the overall year, he was great! He was a pretty verbal kid, so communication wasn't an issue most of the time. He obeyed pretty well for a two year old--and being told no mostly made him sad, not angry. And he potty-trained so quickly, I don't think I believed it for a while. And I remember thinking, "If the twos are as bad as it gets, I've totally got this!" But then he turned three. And Lord have mercy, it's like he got replaced with an identical evil twin. I specifically remember we were at In-N-Out one day, and he walked up to the counter and so sweetly asked for some stickers. A little while later one of the employees came up to me and said, "Oh my gosh! If there won't so many people around, I'd steal him from you! He's just so adorable and sweet!" Obviously she was joking. But for just a minute I wanted to say, "I won't tell if you won't." Now don't take this the wrong way, I love my son. And I loved him at three. He just tested my patience a lot. The fours have been a vast improvement, I will say that. But see, he set me up to believe that the year to fear is the threes. That the twos are a breeze. [I promise I'm not trying to rhyme on purpose.] But y'all. I now fully understand the true definition of the terrible twos. My sweet little Raelyn is... well, she's the all encompassing definition of the terrible twos. I'm possibly about to lose my mind. And my voice. And my sanity. I'm ready to return my mom card. But apparently they're non-refundable and I just have to learn how to parent a terrible two year old. She will not use the potty, no matter how many bribes are offered. She endlessly tortures her big brother. Any and all consequences are either ignored or only escalate the situation. [Often both, since ignoring a consequence such as "stay in timeout" only brings about more consequences that then escalate the situation.] I've run out of consequences, y'all. And I think she knows it. All that to say, I miss Waco. For many reasons, of course, but in this moment, I miss it because I miss Mother's Day Out. We would be a week away from both of my older children going to MDO twice a week for 5.5 hours per day. I would get a break from these terrible twos. But instead, Logan gets to go to a preschool three days a week for 3 hours per day... and Raelyn stays with me. All day. Every day. Lord have mercy on my soul. However, if you happen to ever see Raelyn when she's not mad or being stubborn or being bratty, she's pretty adorable.

Other than the lack of an MDO program for Raelyn, we're adjusting to life in Tucson pretty well. Between us and the four houses around us, we have fifteen kids, 7 and younger. And we often go outside in the evenings and the kids take over the corner with an inordinate number of bikes, scooters, balls, and kid-sized cars. Logan loves it! Our neighbors have a pool, and we've gone swimming with them a few times. It's been great having such friendly neighbors with such similarly-aged kids! There's also a huge Asian food store here! I didn't have time to walk around for long, but I'm looking forward to going back one of these days. I'm still figuring out how to go out with three kids solo--I tried it today and it was probably the worst decision I'll make today. Maybe even all week. My precious Ollie does not like any baby carrier. If she's sleepy enough I can eventually get her to sleep in the Ergo. But if she's awake, she will scream the whole time. And this from a baby that 95% of the day is completely silent. She literally hardly makes any noise at all. Unless you put her in a carrier. Needless to say, our trip to Walmart this morning was our last mom + three kids Walmart trip until everyone is older. That or it has to be at a time when 1. Ollie is sleepy enough to fall asleep, 2. We don't need to buy much so the cart can be used to hold children instead of food, or 3. It's an absolute emergency. But most likely... all three. Curbside pick-up it is!

Kid Stories/Quotes:
- Often, when Logan gets hurt or is upset about something I say, "Sorry, Bud." Well... Raelyn has taken note of this. Now, whenever Logan is upset, [typically by something she's doing] she just says, "Sorry, Bud." He doesn't seem to like it much. He yells at her, "Stop calling me Bud! Call me Logan!" To which she says.. "Sorry, Bud."
- Logan: Mommy, I think we will have to go back to Texas for CG. (CG is our small group back in Waco.)
- Logan was telling the preschool director at his new preschool that his favorite Bible story is David and the giant. She was asking him some questions about it when Raelyn said, "I like Zaccheus."
- Logan: Mommy, can I go outside?
  Me: You can go in the backyard. What do you want to do?
  Logan: I need to search for some rocks.
 You may not know this, but here in Tucson, instead of grass in our yards, we have rocks. They're really really not hard to find. But he's so proud of himself every time he finds a new rock. I'm trying to muster up some enthusiasm. But I mean... the odds were really in his favor.
- Ollie sleeps at least nine hours straight every night. Then she's awake for about an hour and then naps for another three hours. She's a chubby little thing, so I know she's getting enough to eat... but I had no idea this much uninterrupted sleep was possible at two and a half months. Now I'm just worried that once she rolls over and we have to stop swaddling her, all this sleep will be but a distant memory.

a new chapter begins

A month or so before I graduated from high school, I wrote a song with a dear friend of mine titled "Turn the Page." In the song we sing about the challenges of leaving a place that's always been home and starting a new chapter in a place we don't know. We sing about the memories that were made, the attempts to make curfew, that last hug for a friend... And here I am, a decade later, with a whole new assortment of memories, friends, and a new home I have to leave.

I thought we would live in Waco for two years while Travis finished up at Baylor. I put forth little effort into establishing roots here because we weren't staying. But then the Lord surprised us. He kept us in Waco. In the following years, we found a wonderful church, made many incredible friendships, bought and sold our first home, bought another home, had three beautiful children... This city became home not because of where it is or what job was here, but because of the life that we lived here. The people; the memories of bringing our babies home (each to a different house, I might add); the church community that rallied around us during some very hard times. I learned how to be a wife here. I learned how to be a mother here. I'm no expert in either arena, but this is where I took my baby steps. The chorus of the song ends with, "...my heart got tied to home. And as the strings are being cut, I trust that He has a plan for leading me away. A new chapter's beginning, and I turn the page." The same way I didn't understand why the Lord kept us in Waco five years ago, I don't know why He's leading us to Tucson. It hurts. Goodbyes never get easier. But Waco became a wonderful home, and I have to trust that Tucson will too. We leave one week from tomorrow, and I know this week will be filled with lots of bittersweet tears.

On a more positive note, since I last wrote, we've added a beautiful baby girl to our family! Our sweet Olivia Rose finally arrived three days late on June 5th at 7:06 in the morning. (So I guess technically she was only two and a half days late, but each day felt like a week, so I'm rounding up for drama's sake.) I finally convinced Travis to take me to the hospital at 3:00 in the morning, we got there at 3:30, and three and a half hours later, we had ourselves a baby! Hah. I was pretty proud of myself for surviving as long as I did without my epidural (not by choice and not at all gracefully). I was dilated to 8 cm right after I got my epidural at approx. 5:30 am. They didn't check me again until I insisted on it at 6:45. (They kept telling me to let them know if I felt any pressure or like it was time to push... and I kept thinking, "Don't they know that I can't feel anything?") At that point, Olivia was so close to making her entrance into the world that the nurse begged me not to push while she found the doctor. Once the doctor arrived, I pushed for about three minutes and we had ourselves a beautiful new baby. After the emotional roller coaster of the past two years, I cried some tears of joy as I held my precious rainbow baby. I had prepared myself for the hardship of newborn life--but Ollie has been so easy. She sleeps well, she cries rarely, and for the first time, I've been able to fully enjoy my newborn baby. I haven't had any of my typical breastfeeding issues, so I've actually been able to enjoy snuggling my baby girl. Feeding her hasn't been wrought with tears and curled toes while I try to hold back screams of excruciating pain. When I saw my doctor at my six week check up, I told him, "It turns out I don't actually hate the newborn phase as much as I thought. I just really really hate mastitis and breast abscesses."

My easier time postpartum... our house here in Waco sold in two days...Travis went to Tucson for a week for work training and found a house... everything that could very easily have sent me into a hormonally induced panic attack has gone so smoothly, it's almost as if the Lord's plans really are best. ;) Anytime I started to doubt that we should be moving, something else fell into place with minimal effort. Moving is hard, but God is good. Our house is being packed on Saturday, loaded up Sunday, and we fly out Monday morning. A new chapter awaits us...so with some resistance, a lot of tears, and only the Lord's strength, we turn the page.

New Section: Kid Stories/Quotes
  ~ The other day, Logan was throwing a long-winded tantrum (yay for the fours!) and Raelyn looks at me and says, "Mommy, why Wogan so stubborn?"
  ~ Logan listening to/watching "We're Going on a Lion Hunt": "Mommy, if they don't want to find a lion, why are they going on a lion hunt?"
  ~ Logan: Mommy, when we move to Arizona, can we bring Ollie with us?
  ~ Logan: Mommy, what do you call a rat going up a hill?
     Me: I don't know. What?
     Logan: A rat.
    Kid's got jokes! :)
  ~My favorite new kid word: disastrophe!

when everything changes...

To this day, my parents and sisters love to tease me about my lifelong resistance to change. Growing up, we had our usual seats at the dinner table. But to me, you might as well have signed a binding contract obligating you to sit in that seat at every dinner, no matter what, till you died--or graduated high school. My less anti-change sisters always wanted to change up the seating assignments--and I would panic and reject their suggestion with gumption. My parents eventually came to a compromise: I could sit in my seat at every dinner. But if my sisters wanted to rearrange everyone else's seats, they were allowed to do that. You would think I could see the fairness in the compromise... but no. It always made me mad. And there's a part of me that still wonders if they only insisted on changing things up because it made me mad, but they'd never fess up to that. Hah! Now why am I'm telling you this riveting tale of dinner seat assignments from my childhood? I feel like it so thoroughly shows just how much I don't like change. Sitting in a different seat at the dinner table is a fairly minor thing. My life, as a whole, was not largely affected by it. Yet I resisted it with a passion.

I like structure. I like routine and consistency and planning. I don't care for spontaneity, though having children has certainly helped me loosen up in some areas. (For example, I don't have to sit in the same seat at dinner anymore. Hah!) Change is hard for me. And for whatever reason, the Lord has decided to take every familiar, stable, consistent thing in my life right now...and change it. Some of it was planned--like having a baby. (Well, more or less planned.) I've known for months now, that we were going to be adding another baby to our family. I've had plenty of time to prepare and anticipate it and mentally ready myself for all that's coming. (Not that you can fully prepare yourself for such a big change, but I chose this big change. And I'm doing everything I can to be ready for it.) But you know what happens to me when I already have a big change coming (chosen or not)? I can't handle more big changes. My emotional stability comes rapidly crashing down because for goodness' sake, that is NOT how I planned it! 

At the end of February, Travis came home from work one day and told me that the Caterpillar manufacturing plant he works at (and has for five years) is shutting down at the end of the year. My whole world crumbled. On the upside, he was given plenty of time to find another job. On the downside, we're having a baby. We just bought our house. We have a wonderful community of friends. My sister just moved here last summer. I know how to get almost everywhere in Waco. We love our church. Our kids have friends here. I love HEB and don't know how to grocery shop anywhere else. I've established roots, and I don't want to pull them up ... but in the engineering world, Waco is a manufacturing town. My husband doesn't love manufacturing. He doesn't want to support an already designed process--he wants to help design the process. And to do that, we have to leave. And THAT change makes this 38 week, 4 day pregnant mama want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. But apparently the Lord wants me to learn to embrace change--all the change, all at the same time.

As of last week, Travis has accepted a new position with Caterpillar in Tucson, AZ, and we will be moving there in August.

My primary focus right now is having this baby. That's all the change I can handle right now. But in a month or so, when my precious baby girl is here, the gravity of the change will hit me. And it will hit hard. And the tears will flow and the fears will emerge...and I will have to learn how to allow change into my life gracefully. I will need to remind myself how much happier my husband will be in a job he loves. I will need to look for the positives of moving to a state I've never even been to. I will need to remind myself to be bold and make friends. But mostly, I will need to trust that the Lord has a plan for us in Tucson. It may not be where I would have chosen, but it's where HE chose, and that's what matters the most. My kids are young and resilient and desperately need me to be excited and adventurous about this change. Daddy sees and yearns for the adventure--and Mommy needs to catch the vision.

In other news...
 Our sweet baby girl will be here in two-ish weeks. Give or take. [This weekend would be great since Travis has a four day weekend--but something tells me she's not paying attention to my preferences.]
 My mom arrives in less than two weeks!
 We survived Logan and Raelyn's joint birthday party last weekend--next year we'll get to add another party to the mix!
 I've thrown all calorie caution to the wind and now eat whatever I want, whenever I want because..well, because I no longer care. 38.5 weeks, people. I'm huge. Why not embrace it at this point?
 The upside of moving is that I LOVE looking at houses. And since we've moved houses at least every two years since we got married, we now know exactly what we like in a house. Silver linings, friends!
 Our fridge is having problems. Again. Wouldn't you agree that this is the perfect time to not be able to use your fridge?

My exhaustion has definitely kicked in. And there's a chocolate pudding/cheesecake parfait (of my own creation, I might add) that's calling my name from our little mini fridge. So I'm going to wrap this up. Plus, I have to pick up the kids from their once-a-week save-my-sanity childcare in just a couple hours. My free time is running out! Have a wonderful day, Friends! :) And please pray for us as we embark on...well, a lot of change.

A September to September Recap & Reflection

I can't believe how long it has been since I last wrote. Writing was always so cathartic for me. And since I've always used this blog as more of an "anecdotal" blog, it was also a journal of sorts. I can go back and read old posts and remember little things that I had forgotten about. For that reason, I'm sad that I haven't been writing for the last [almost] year and a half. But I also know why I didn't write, and I don't know if my emotional fragility could handle reading back on this past year. There have been some wonderful things about this year--moving to a new house, our three week Christmas trip back to Indonesia, Raelyn's first and Logan's third birthdays, my parents coming to the states for their six month furlough--but in the whole scheme of things, this year has been the hardest year. Period. I feel like I've been such an emotional mess this week. I don't have any wonderful explanation except that tomorrow marks one year since we began this heartbreaking, faith-shaking, emotionally-draining, challenging, growing year. I have desperately asked the Lord to allow tomorrow to reset things. A new year. A new, wonderful year.

One year ago [tomorrow], we went in for (what we expected to be) a quick appointment with Raelyn's cardiologist. We knew she had two holes in her heart, but the holes were small. They were not going to be problematic. Or at least, they shouldn't have been. But at that appointment, the cardiologist told us that Raelyn's heart was retaining fluid, so she needed to start two heart medications. I was worried, but hopeful. The medications would fix everything, and we would be home free. But instead, the medication caused Raelyn to lose weight over the next five weeks. It helped her heart but otherwise, was causing a whole new batch of problems. At her one month follow-up five weeks later, she had lost a whole pound (which means a lot more to a five-and-a-half month old than to most) and we were immediately sent to a children's hospital about 45 minutes away. They discovered that she simply wasn't eating enough. She had no motivation to eat. She would nurse for five minutes and be done, only having gotten an ounce of milk when she needed to be eating at least four ounces at each feeding. After a miraculous three ounce gain during her hospital stay, we went home... only to have to drive to the children's hospital once a week in addition to almost daily weight checks at her pediatrician's office here in town. After four weeks, she had lost a few ounces again, and she had to be admitted to have an NG tube placed. I had been feeding her around the clock. My entire focus day in and day out was getting. her. to. eat. And I had failed. I was emotionally wrecked and barely holding it all together.

She started gaining weight pretty well for the first few days (doubling your food intake will do that), but then on a trip up north (where it was very cold), she caught a bad cough. Between the cough and the tube in her throat, she started throwing up everything she was eating and losing the weight she had gained. When we got home, I quickly found that nursing, pumping, tube feeding, washing pump parts, and keeping my other child alive was more than I could manage on my own. I tearfully begged my sister to come stay with me for a few days (ahem, a week, at least), and she was an angel and did. We also had a trip to Houston to meet with another cardiologist and a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon, while both my sisters kept Logan at home. I went to Houston fairly certain that we were going to be scheduling open-heart surgery for our 7.5 month old, and I was terrified. The feeding tube was helping her gain weight, but very slowly. It didn't make any sense. By some miracle, we were scheduled to see the head of the cardiology department at the 2nd ranked pediatric cardiology/cardiothoracic surgery hospital in the country. And guess what?! He did NOT recommend surgery. On the medication, her heart was functioning as it should, though the holes were both still there. He recommended weaning her off the medication and FOR THE FIRST TIME told us that the medication, in very rare cases, can cause weight loss. (I'm no doctor... but that's what I had been saying from the beginning.) The surgeon we met with said Raelyn would have to twist their arms a bit more before they would do surgery. (Music to my ears!) And he very graciously said, "I hope I never have to see you again." From your mouth to God's ears, Doctor. Long story short, we went to Indonesia for three weeks. We gradually weaned Raelyn off her medications. When she pulled her feeding tube out for the millionth time the day before we saw her cardiologist again in January, we left it out and asked if we could go without it. Once she was off the medications and eating on her own, she gradually started gaining weight really, really well. By her first birthday, she had moved up to the 50th percentile on the growth charts (after dropping to the 10th from her original 78th percentile), eating more than we thought possible. Hundreds and hundreds of people had been praying for us for months. It was incredible to see the answered prayers. She saw her cardiologist again at the end of June and, praise the Lord, we don't have to go back for another cardiology appointment until next June! While some aspects of Raelyn's health still feel "on hold," we have thoroughly enjoyed seeing our precious little girl growing, developing, talking, eating, eating, and eating. But let me tell you... it was a long, painful year. And I'm so eternally grateful to be on the other side of it.

But then, as if all of that wasn't enough to warrant the "worst year ever" title, at approximately 12 weeks pregnant this past August, we found out that I had experienced a "missed miscarriage." Since the baby was only measuring six weeks behind and I was showing no signs of miscarrying on my own, I wasn't sure how long it would take my morning sickness ravaged body to actually recognize that the baby wasn't OK. And my sweet Logan kept asking me about the baby in my tummy, and it was too hard. I had a D&C (only because I was able to be under general anesthesia) and started the healing, grieving process without a baby inside of me. And it's been hard sometimes. I think everyone in the world is having a baby in February.

But in the midst of all these trials...God is the Master Author. I don't think I know what I learned through all of this that He couldn't have taught me in a much less painful way, but He does. And hopefully, someday I will too. (I often remind myself of the song "Diamonds" that says, "He's refining in His timing, He's making diamonds out of us." I sure hope I'm becoming diamond-like.) I have seen small glimmers of the positives that have come from this year. My time spent in hospitals and with a feeding tube and having medical equipment mailed to me every month...it really changed my perspective. There's a whole world of people experiencing similar things (and so much worse), and I'm not sure I had ever given them a second thought before all of this. It's still hard for me to hear about infants and children going through these types of medical issues (it's still so raw), but I'm now aware of it. And someday, I hope I'll figure out what to do with that. But my goodness, so many people reached out to us and offered help and encouragement and advice. I learned the amazing value of community. I learned to rejoice over so many little milestones. Raelyn now has a big ol' tummy, and I couldn't be happier about it. If you saw her, you would never know she has a heart defect. And THAT is so wonderful. My son sees pictures of Raelyn with her feeding tube and asks what it is. He never once did that when she had it--he didn't even seem to notice it! Logan spent most days with different friends (wonderful, kind people), and never seemed to feel like I was neglecting him. The Lord was faithful in bringing both my kids through a very hard, emotional time--though they both seemed unaffected. On the days when I felt like I just couldn't do it all over again, He did it through me. Even when I was yelling, telling God how unfair it was that my daughter was on the path to needing open-heart surgery...he was still there. I was carrying the burden of all of it--her eating, her weight loss. I was researching everything about pediatric heart surgery... and trusting God to do nothing. I don't have an amazing "aha" moment story where I let go and watched God come through right as I let go. But you know what? He came through anyway. He took my tiny mustard seed of faith and said, "That's enough." And that's amazing! A song came out in early spring (after the feeding tube was gone and she was gaining weight well) that says, "They say it only takes a little faith to move a mountain. Well, good thing. A little faith is all I have right now. God when you choose to make mountains unmovable, give me the strength to be able to say 'it is well with my soul.' I know you're able, and I know you can save through the fire with your mighty hand. But even if you don't, my hope is you alone." And every day I thank the Lord that he moved our mountain. But I hope and pray that if He hadn't, I would still be saying, "It is well with my soul."

Someday, I hope to feel another precious child kicking inside me (a feeling I ALWAYS took for granted). But until that day comes (and if that day comes), I have two living, breathing children that I love immeasurably more than I can put into words here. And even though a small part of my heart aches to think of it, if the Lord chooses to make this particular mountain unmovable, I'm ready to say that this is enough. I've been blessed beyond all measure, even without another child. My children keep me busy, keep me entertained, and fill my days to the brim with joy. (Most days...hah!) I still hope that's not my story, but it was an important step in my grieving process to focus on what I do have, instead of focusing on what I don't have. And being content in that.

But tomorrow starts a new year. Hopefully one full of healthy children, happy memories, and lots of laughter. [Because there are few sounds better than baby and toddler giggles.]

Mommy Confessions: The Dark Side

In the two and a half months since I last wrote, my daughter was born, my parents have come to the states and gone back home, my sister got married, my son turned two, and my daily life has become entirely unpredictable and chaotic (at times). While the months leading up to my precious baby's birth felt endless--especially the last four weeks--the weeks since her birth (seven, by the way) have been a complete whirlwind. Seven weeks have never gone by faster. But in those seven weeks, I've discovered something about myself: I don't like newborns. Now don't take that the wrong way. I love my baby girl. I absolutely love her. But I absolutely can't stand the newborn phase. And I'll be honest, Raelyn isn't a super difficult baby. She actually sleeps very well at night and overall, is a pretty relaxed, calm baby. And quite honestly, my feelings have far less to do with her and more to do with newborns in general. So let's take a little walk through my anti-newborn feelings, shall we? I know you're excited.

• There's no consistency. I don't necessarily need every hour scheduled, but it's really hard to keep a toddler entertained without ever leaving the house because the baby needs a nap every 45 minutes. Except for, you know, TV. Which, believe me, Logan has watched in great abundance. Hours. Every day. Mommy of the year, right here. 
• You can't reason with a newborn. As I'm typing this, my dear husband is driving around with Raelyn because she was screaming bloody murder. She decided not to take her usual long (2 to 3 hour) afternoon nap, so she was overtired. But instead of staying calm and nursing or enjoying the swaying of her swing, she was just screaming. Red faced, nothing would calm her down screaming. And since Travis offered to pick up my fifth antibiotic since giving birth (more on that momentarily), he said he'd take her with him and see if she'd sleep in the car or Ergo carrier in the store. Since he's not home yet, I assume it's working. [Nobody wants to walk around a store or drive endlessly with a screaming infant. Even my chill, nothing gets him rattled, husband.] I've become so accustomed to reasoning with Logan (not that it always works, but sometimes it does) when he cries, that it's hard to remember that Raelyn doesn't understand anything I say. 
• My body hates postpartum. I had mastitis (a breast infection, just in case you didn't know) three times with Logan. It was excruciatingly painful and took me until six weeks postpartum to feel better. It felt like an eternity. So this time, I was convinced that I knew what to do differently. I knew how to nurse and pump and heal any nipple cracks--everything was going to be fine. Then one week in, I saw the first signs of mastitis. Redness and heat. Called the doctor, got on an antibiotic, and the redness and heat went away in a couple days. I knew--I just knew that I'd beat mastitis this time and I was thrilled. I found a way to heal my nipple cracks by the time I was three weeks postpartum and figured I was good to go. But then my postpartum body scoffed at my over confidence. I woke up from a nap with an extremely tender hard spot on my breast that rivaled labor pains. I thought it was a clogged duct, but after nearly three days of trying to unclog it, nothing had worked. I started getting chills and fever, and saw a lactation consultant who told me to go see my doctor. I started another antibiotic and...nothing. By the end of my two weeks on the meds, nothing had changed. I was then referred to a general surgeon. He found an abscess in my breast and did a needle aspiration on it. You want to know what's worse than a needle in your spine for an epidural? That's right, a giant needle in your breast. And then I started another antibiotic only to get a call today saying that I need to switch antibiotics. I have another appointment tomorrow morning with the surgeon, and I'm hoping and praying that I don't need another aspiration.. but more than that, I don't want surgery. Did I mention that my body hates postpartum? 
• Spit up. I hate the spit up. Endless stinky spit up. Everywhere.
• Endless nursing. I feel like a cow. 
• I'm all jiggly. A big belly while you're pregnant is cute and round and expected. A jiggly, squishy belly after the baby, while perhaps expected, is no fun. 

I know I'm making new mommy-hood sound horrible. But really, all the early newborn misery is worth it. Also, my postpartum experience is not normal. According to the endless articles I've read about mastitis and abscesses, only about 10% of breastfeeding mothers get mastitis. And only 3% of those women get abscesses. So that means that in a room of 1,000 breastfeeding moms, only three will get abscesses. I'm a lightning rod for these things, but apparently most people are safe. Also, I know a lot of people that love the newborn phase. They love the sleepy, cuddly baby phase. And some babies don't spit up as much as mine do. And some mothers love the long nursing sessions. And some women are only jiggly for a week or two. Or not at all. So if you're reading this and you're either expecting a baby or plan to have one in the future and I've made it sound like the worst thing in the world, just remember that these things are mostly only true for me. I stand by my claim that newborns are inconsistent and unreasonable, but most people know that going in. Plus, Logan was actually easy to take places. He would fall asleep in the car constantly and would sleep for hours. Raelyn doesn't like her carseat, rarely falls asleep in the car, and if she does, she wakes up as soon as we stop the car. Every baby is different. Raelyn sleeps a lot at night. Three, four, almost five hours in a row sometimes. Logan didn't do that. He was an all-night nurser. Every two hours from when he started nursing. So when he nursed for half an hour, I then got to sleep for no more than an hour and a half before he wanted to eat again. 

Needless to say, I'm in the thick of it right now. I'm ready for this abscess to heal. I'm sick of taking endless medications. I want to be able to go grocery shopping again. I want Logan to watch less TV and have less tablet time. (But what's a mom to do when the baby won't sleep in the living room or anywhere near big brother because he's so incredibly loud and talks constantly? This mom turns on an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and then leaves and nurses the baby to sleep in the bedroom with the door closed, lights off, sound machine blaring, and hopes beyond all hope that her toddler isn't doing something crazy. And that he won't come in the room and wake up the baby.) 

And someday this will all end. I don't know when that day will come, but it will. I won't remember any of this. I'll just have a beautiful, healthy daughter out of it. 

Toddler Words Are Hard to Type

Blue Bell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream has made its way back into my life. I also bought some chocolate ice cream cones, so I get to eat my ice cream as if I went to an ice cream shop and paid a ton of money for one scoop of ice cream. It's entirely psychological, but it makes the ice cream taste better. It does, however, mean that I can't add the fudge sauce and strawberries and bananas I bought to go with my ice cream, so eventually I'll have to have a banana-strawberry split in a bowl. Switch things up once in a while. I could feel bad about eating ice cream everyday, but that really takes the fun out of it. Plus, ice cream is full of calcium and I'm really really terrible at getting all my calcium, so I'm actually being pretty health-conscious by guaranteeing some calcium every single day. It's for the baby. Raelyn needs lots of calcium. And chunks of cookie dough. ;)

Aside from that, I'm about to embark on a week of endless rain, no Mother's Day Out, no library Toddler Time, and absolutely no idea what I'm going to do to keep my child entertained. We can't go to the park or the zoo because of the stupid rain. We could go to a museum or an indoor play place, but I figure every single mom in the same situation as I'm in (or in an even more dire situation: more than one child!) will have the same idea and every indoor place will be packed out. So I might introduce Logan to playing in the rain at some point. I'm just dreading the inevitable "play rain" request I'll hear for the next month, regardless of whether there's actually any rain to play in, if he actually enjoys playing in the rain. But we'll see how the week goes. Maybe the rain will subside earlier than predicted and at least half our week will be salvaged. One can only hope.

Now that Logan is talking (and talking and talking and talking), I thought it was time to share some wonderful Logan Quotes with you. He's only at the two-to-three-word sentence phase, so we don't have any hysterically funny things yet, but I'm hopeful they'll come soon.

• The other day, Logan asked for a snack of cheese and crackers. I sliced three slices of cheddar cheese and gave him five crackers. He devoured the crackers and ate one slice of cheese. Then he gave me a slice of cheese. Then he picked up the last piece of cheese, threw it on the carpet, and said, "Walk cheese." For some very odd reason, my 21 month old son wanted to walk on his cheese. I don't even know where he could have come up with such an idea. But since he had thoughtfully announced his intentions, I was able to rescue the cheese before he mashed it into our area rug. 
• "Mommy floor" (which sounds more like "mommy war") is his all time favorite request all. day. long. Big pregnant mommy isn't allowed to sit on the couch. No, no. I get to sit on the floor while Logan plays with his toys the same way he'd play with them if I were on the couch. You want to know the worst part? Trying to get up off the floor multiple times a day. My very thoughtful husband thought he could simply help pull me to my feet. But no. No, when you're pregnant (at least, when you're me and pregnant) you have to get on your hands and knees and then step with one foot, using that first leg as a pushing off point for the rest of you, before finally ending up on your feet. If that sounds confusing and far too complicated, that's because it is. 
• Travis introduced Logan to guitars this past week. He played Old McDonald Had A Farm, so now Logan asks for "tar E-I-E" constantly. I have to remind him that Mommy doesn't play the guitar, so he'll have to wait for Daddy to get home. Travis "gave" Logan his ukulele, which Logan calls "my tar." I tried to move it the other day because it seemed like it was in the way and Logan said, "My tar no Mommy's." Well OK then. 
• Logan's word for yogurt is "ee aw." I have no idea why. I've tried to have him repeat "yo-gurt" slowly and carefully, but he always says "ee aw." And if he says "nack me," that means he wants a banana for snack. The number seven is the same word he uses for "hungry": honey. He still calls a spoon a "moo" and crackers are "dadu." However, I have hope that he'll get it eventually because he has always called a horse a "nee." Then he started saying it "neigh" and for the last few days he can officially say "horse." And "aws" was his word for any kind of sauce (BBQ, ketchup, salad dressing, applesauce). BUT, just this week, he has now differentiated between regular old sauces and applesauce! He now says, "appos aws." Woohoo! So there's hope yet for ee aw and me and dadu. :) 
• And his newest word is "dice." It took me a couple days, but I now know that dice means toys.

Typing toddler words requires way too many quotation marks and commas. Goodness gracious. Anyway, he has so many words now, I can't even keep track of all of them. The downside of his broadening vocabulary is when he gets a bit too confident that we can understand him, so he starts jabbering on in absolute gibberish and then, when I can't understand him,  dramatically covers his face with his hands and flops on the ground. For a few days he would also mash his face into the floor, but he kept getting dog fur in his mouth, so he revised his dramatic "my parents don't understand me" routine. Seemed like a smart move to me. 

As for an ever-lovely pregnancy update, I sometimes pee four times an hour. Sometimes I can make it two hours, but that's only if I don't stand up and Raelyn doesn't kick my bladder. My ample bathroom visits, however, have given Logan plenty of time to learn how to climb in and out of the bathtub. My arms and legs and, let's be honest, my entire body is very achy most of the time. My feet don't like supporting all this extra weight, so by the end of the day (the end of the day is 7 pm, by the way) I flop onto the couch and await my daily foot massage from my incredibly sweet, wonderful husband. He's pretty awesome and basically the only reason I'm still capable of walking. Other than all the physical ailments, I've now started nesting a bit. I convinced Travis to let me get a nice rocker recliner for Raelyn's room, and will probably live in that chair a couple months from now. We painted her room a wonderfully relaxing shade of grey and I've cleaned a few doors and baseboards. Travis is going to build a changing table/dresser and very soon I'll be adding light pink touches to my baby girl's room. I'm embracing the girly-ness wholeheartedly--and I really like light pink. :) 

Alright, that pretty much does it. My son is slowly waking up and he's super cute when he's just woken up from his nap. (Assuming he took a nice long nap and is fully well-rested, of course.)

Babies and Toddlers and Giant Bellies and Sweet Tea

I cut my nails yesterday. Once I cut my nails, I love typing. It's just an enjoyable thing to do. I've been known to take typing speed tests online simply because I love typing. But not with long nails. They're cumbersome and slow me down. So thanks to my wonderful use of time yesterday, I'm finally writing again. Logan is napping, and I got enough sleep last night that I don't need to nap today. And since I cleaned the house yesterday, I don't need to do anything but vacuum (which takes all of ten minutes, really). Right now I'm sitting on the couch listening to the very quiet dishwasher, relishing the fact that unless I have to pee (a likely occurrence actually), I don't have to move even an inch. Oh how I hope Logan naps for a couple hours today.

My weeks have suddenly gone from long and exhausting to completely manageable and only sometimes exhausting. My incredibly sweet husband agreed to let me put Logan in a once-a-week Mother's Day Out program at a local church. Wednesdays are glorious! I drop Logan off at 9:00 am and don't have to pick him up until 2:00. That's five beautiful hours to do whatever I need to do! Yesterday I did some grocery shopping without a toddler trying to dive out of the cart; I vacuumed and mopped the kitchen/dining room/living room; I folded laundry; I cleaned the guest bathroom; and I had a wonderful lunch date with my hubby. It's our new thing. We meet at a restaurant on Wednesdays and enjoy a very nice lunch date. Every week!! No toddler running around the restaurant... no toddler screaming to get out of his high chair... I'd forgotten how relaxing and enjoyable eating out can be. (Don't get me wrong. Occasionally Logan is wonderful at restaurants... but he has to be really hungry and not tired. And at lunch time, that's highly unlikely.) So needless to say, my weeks have improved immensely since Logan started MDO. Next week I have a prenatal appointment right after I drop him off. I'm so glad I get to go to appointments by myself now! I really should be an MDO spokesperson. Especially for pregnant Mamas that have frequent doctor's appointments. No one wants to take an impatient, high energy toddler along for those ever-exciting prenatal appointments. I could probably go on for hours about how wonderful Wednesdays are, but I think you get the picture. I'll move on.

We found out this month that we are having a baby girl: Raelyn Abigail. Even though I had insisted that I had no inkling as to what we were having this time around, I think deep down I was expecting another boy. So when the ultrasound tech said it was most assuredly a girl, I was pretty shocked. Travis was more shocked than I was. Hah! I don't think he knew what to say or think after that. We're excited, of course, but I think we thought it'd be a lot of fun for Logan to have a little brother to play with. That's not to say he can't have fun with a little sister, but I think it goes without saying that boys and girls are pretty different. ;) I was a puzzle-doing, book-reading, doll-playing kind of girl. So if Raelyn is anything like me, she's not going to be all that interested in climbing and throwing balls and building endless towers (and then taking them apart/knocking them over) as Logan is. But we'll see what happens. Maybe she'll think her big brother is so cool that she'll want to do everything he does. :) I have to admit, I'm having a lot of fun planning a baby girl's nursery. I'm not much for doing nursery themes, but I love feminine colors and such. I didn't really get to do much for Logan's nursery since we didn't even move into our house until two weeks after he was born. At that point, I didn't care much what the nursery looked like as long as it had what I needed. We added some decorations (and when I say "we" I mean my mom and Travis) over the next few months and now it looks pretty cute, but I had very little to do with it. I picked out the color of the walls. And that's it. So this time around, I'm excited to have a (hopefully) ready-to-go pretty nursery for my baby girl.

Someone asked me how much longer I have in my pregnancy yesterday. I told her 13 weeks. She thought I was almost finished. That should tell you how much bigger I am this time around. I looked at my bump pictures from last time and I was about the same size I am now (at 27 weeks) at 36 weeks or so last time. I've already gained as much weight as I did the whole 40 weeks with Logan. I'm gaining more on other parts of my body--my hips getting the worst of it, I think. I don't know what to do about it except try to go on walks with Logan or something. The extra weight is making my feet ache so quickly though. I dread my weigh-ins. My doctor doesn't seem concerned and all my maternity clothes from last time (except for one pair of jeans) still fit, so I'm trying not to stress too much about my rapidly growing self. But this, my friends, is why there aren't frequent bump pictures this time around. Now I completely understand why bump pictures tend to happen during a woman's first pregnancy... and then not again. I don't feel cute. I just feel large. Hah. But as much as I look forward to not being pregnant and getting to lose this extra weight, I'm genuinely enjoying my time with Logan, one-on-one. He just switched from "mama" and "dada" to "mommy" and "daddy," and it's so cute! I didn't know that happened so early! :) He's learning so many words all the time, and it's amazing to hear his vocabulary broaden each week!

Every day I have to resist the urge to buy a gallon of McAlister's sweet tea. I'm addicted. I've tried making it at home, but they must use some kind of special blend because my tea is never as good. No matter what. Ah, my baby boy is awake. Break time is over. And the vacuuming didn't happen. Oh well.

five months have passed and this is what I have to say about it

It's hard to believe nearly half a year has passed since I last regaled you with my daily adventures in motherhood and wifedom and other such exciting things. Mostly I blame pregnancy. My sudden disappearance from...well, everything, happened when I got pregnant back in August or so. My energy level went from mediocre (I'm not a naturally high energy person) to non-existent right around that time. Between the nausea and the exhaustion, making sure my toddler was fed, rested, and entertained (we discovered the beauty of Netflix around this time) was all I could handle. My dear husband had to pick up the slack in nearly every way you can imagine. Thankfully, I eventually got some wonderful anti-nausea medicine that worked wonders for my nausea/vomiting! But since it has an antihistamine in it, the exhaustion was a bit worse for the wear. Even now, at the halfway point in my pregnancy, I still find myself yawning incessantly by 8:00 pm. And I only just stopped napping in the afternoons while Logan naps this week. (But of course, instead of doing some laundry or getting dinner figured out, I'm writing a blog with my spare time. Priorities.) On the positive side of pregnancy, I'm feeling a lot of kicks (though this baby is far less active than Logan was) and I can finally cook again now that raw meat doesn't make me gag. We would have found out our baby's gender this morning, but my ever frugal husband thought it best to pay for the ultrasound on next year's deductible. Very practical. Not very fun. So instead of being able to announce whether we're having a boy or a girl this time around, we are waiting for another three and a half weeks. I'm impatient.

Tonight is Parents' Night Out at our church. Four hours (though there's no chance I'll make it till 10:00 tonight) of babysitting for only $5! Needless to say, we took full advantage of the church's generosity and are having our first date night in much longer than I care to figure out. It's going to completely mess up Logan's wonderful 7 pm bedtime, but every once in a while, you just have to roll with the punches. Some people would say, "He'll sleep in tomorrow though!" and they're wrong. It doesn't matter if Logan goes to bed at 6:30 or 7:00 or 10:00... he will be up between 6:30 and 7:00 tomorrow morning. I'd bet money on it. But tomorrow is Saturday, so Travis won't be at work and Logan won't ask me all morning where Daddy is and therefore, everything is going to be OK. Travis had the whole week of Thanksgiving off, and I think it spoiled Logan just a tad. Plus, we were up in Wisconsin with Travis' side of the family for the week, so Logan was constantly surrounded by people. I don't know if toddlers' personalities change significantly over time, but for right now, Logan is beyond extroverted. He's as sweet and calm as you can imagine (mostly) when there are a bunch of people around. But leave him home alone with Mommy all. day. long!, and you're asking for a lot of tantrums and crying and frustration... and that goes for both of us at this point. I think I've gone off on a random tangent again. No big surprise there. I'm trying to catch up on five or so months of writing. Hah. Not really. I won't torture you like that.

Since I've already been talking about Logan, I'm just going to continue on that train. He is, after all, who I'm with all day and, therefore, the only person I have endless stories about. He has finally started talking. He was so focused on walking and running and climbing a while back, that talking fell to the wayside. But now, much to my enjoyment (mostly) he's saying words. Of course his first words (other than Dada) were dog, duck, down, and done. They all sounded very similar, but context clues usually helped us out. He was a bit obsessed with the "d" sound for a while. At some point he threw in Mama, but it took quite a while. I think he was holding out just to torture me. Then came rice, ball, and cheese. Then car. And now he has a ton of words. Water, light, snack, yellow, shoes, book, candy, more, noodles, ice, night-night... and while he will say dog and duck, all the other animals he knows he refers to by their sound: moo, baa, nee [neigh], me[ow], ha ha [heehaw]... and most recently, he learned "baby." :) I'm pretty sure he's going to be quite a talker once he can really talk. He already is, he just doesn't make all the sense. ;) Other than the talking, he desperately wants to take all the balls off the tree, climb everything he can [fridge, wall, crib, dresser, etc.], and play in water 24/7. Also, if I ask him, "Where's the baby?" he [sometimes] points to my much-larger-than-it-was-with-Logan-at-this-point stomach and often will kiss it. Other times he points to my chest. I haven't figured out why.

We are celebrating Christmas next Saturday with my parents and sisters. We rearranged our living room and got a pretty tree and will all enjoy our immediate family Christmas together before the huge family Christmas on the 25th. Logan is very accustomed to skyping with Mimi (my mom) nearly every weekday morning, so I'm excited to see what he thinks when she's actually here. My guess is that it will take him about five to ten minutes to warm up, and then I'll hardly see him after that. The joys of having family around!

It's just about 2:00 pm, and I'm hoping Logan has about another thirty minutes to an hour of sleep left. He recently upped his afternoon nap from a very consistent hour and a half to a wonderful two or three hour nap. It's the nicest thing he's done for me since he finally stopped nursing and started sleeping 12 hours straight at night. [Apparently I value sleep very highly. Hopefully my other child learns that quickly!]

I bought some Hershey's Kisses the other day, and I think it's time to indulge a bit. I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas!

the shifting winds of marriage

I went back and read my previous two "anniversary-lessons-learned-in-marriage" posts and have come away amazed. A bit dazed, really. Not because they were bad, but because they were so... simple. I think that's what makes marriage so crazy. You just never know what comes next. And when I wrote my two and three year post, marriage up to that point was easy. I wasn't naive enough to think it was always going to be so easy, but I was naive enough to think that I had years of blissful "our fights are few and far between" years ahead of us. But then we had a baby, and a whole new breed of arguments, hurt feelings, and frustrations reared their ugly heads. Suddenly, we weren't just here for each other: we were here for another tiny, helpless baby. And our free time was not our own. Instead of having an hour or two to read a book or watch a TV show while Travis worked in the garage or played with the dogs, we now had to consider what Logan would be doing. If he was napping, problem solved. If he wasn't... someone had to watch him. And once he got a bit older, someone had to entertain him or play with him. But after a few days or weeks of juggling Logan time and free time and cooking/cleaning/housekeeping time, it always became apparent that we hadn't spent any time together without the baby. So without further ado, here are the things I've learned in my fourth year of marriage:

1. "Couple time" is vital.
     Before we had a baby, when people asked us if we went out on dates or had "date night", we always shrugged and said, "Every night is kind of date night. Either we eat together at home or we eat together out...we don't need a special date night." Well, now I get it. Now I understand the need for a date night or just time to be together and talk about life and work and whatever else. We're still not very good about making it happen, but we see the need and we're working on it.

2. There are good and bad ways to lay out your grievances.
    You'd be amazed how many fights start because one person (ahem, me) decided to express her frustrations/feelings about something. Because instead of going to Travis in a calm, collected way and saying, "This particular thing is hurting my feelings/making me upset/making me feel inadequate/etc., can we talk about it?" I go in with accusations and condescension. He then gets defensive, which makes me more defensive--and then we're stuck in a vicious cycle. Talking things out is good: but there's a right and a wrong way to do it.

3. Just because something doesn't bother/upset you, doesn't mean it's not a valid sentiment.
    Travis doesn't like excessive clutter. To him, the house is a mess if there's too much clutter. I don't even notice the clutter. I mean, if it's getting way out of hand, sure. But in general, I figure we live here, so things are bound to get cluttered. And I have found myself telling Travis that being so uptight (which doesn't describe him at all) about clutter is silly. It's just not a big deal. But the truth is, it matters to him, so that makes it a big deal. Just like I care that the floor is swept and vacuumed daily (and mopped a couple times a week) whereas Travis doesn't even notice how gross the floor gets. (Doggie door + dogs + not enough grass outside = lots of dirt inside the house.) The same way that I don't appreciate him telling me that the floor being clean isn't a big deal, he doesn't appreciate it when I tell him clutter isn't a big deal. (And really, we need each other to keep the house from being in a shambles. Travis keeps the house less cluttered and I keep the floors clean. Yay!)

4. [Along with #3] Just because your spouse didn't do the chore you find most important, doesn't mean they didn't do something important.
    It took us months to realize that we don't always notice the little chores the other person does. While Travis is at work, I might have swept, vacuumed, mopped, wiped the kitchen counters, washed the dishes, put away the clean dishes, and reloaded the dishwasher--but he rarely noticed. What he noticed is that the living room is full of non-living room junk, my folded clothes are still piled up on the dresser instead of in the dresser, and the bathroom counter is covered by a bunch of clothes and products that I never use. So when he comes home and says, "So what exactly did you do all day?" I want to throw something at him. Something heavy. But what have I learned from this? I should try my hardest to declutter sometimes. It matters to him and he notices. And Travis has learned that just because I didn't declutter doesn't mean that I didn't do anything all day. (And that he should never ask that question unless he's actually asking, "What did you guys do today?" Notice the difference?)

5. Comparing jobs is bad.
   I did a "new mom" devotional book this year, and in one of the devotionals, the author talks about how she had a very "rose colored glasses" view of her husband's job. She imagined that he got to sit around with grown human beings having intelligent conversations, relaxing during his nice child-free lunch break, living the good life. Then he got to come home and see the kids at their best (so happy Dad's home!) for a couple hours, eat an already prepared meal, and relax for the rest of the evening once the kids were in bed. But when she finally told her husband what she thought, he let her in on a secret: his job wasn't really all that glamorous; her job was! She got to stay home with the kids and see them walk for the first time and say their first words and tell their first jokes. She got to hang out at the park or the mall or go swimming all day, every day, and never has to deal with office politics or any other work-life difficulties. The grass is always greener, huh? I learned that instead of feeling resentful that I never get to miss my child because I'm with him all. the. time., I need to be grateful that I have a wonderful husband that's willing to work all week long to provide for us. He comes home at lunch everyday to see us, always plays with Logan after work, does the bath routine before bed, and doesn't complain. And then I thought about whether I would really rather work all day instead of stay home with my baby: not in the least. I love being a stay-at-home mom, and I'm so grateful that my husband allows me to do that.

6. Avoid the car.
   Obviously this isn't really possible. But seriously, what is with all the arguing in the car?? It's amazing! Travis says he doesn't drive well (as in... he goes the wrong way all the time or forgets that red lights mean "stop until green" not "stop and then go"... those kinds of things) because I'm always talking to him and it's really hard for him to multitask: driving and listening. Hah. We do have a deal though. If we're driving in Waco (the city we live in!), going somewhere we know how to get to, and he goes the wrong way, he has to buy me Chick-fil-A. It's a win-win. If he goes the wrong way, instead of getting mad or annoyed that we get to "take the scenic route" again, I'm thrilled because I get extra Chick-fil-A. And then if I'm driving (which happens very infrequently) and I get unnecessarily angry at the other drivers on the road (minor road rage problems, don't worry about it), I have to buy him Chipotle. [In case you're confused, the only person that gets the extra fast food visit is the winner of the deal. If he goes the wrong way, I get Chick-fil-A, he doesn't. And vice versa.] It's been a good system thus far.

7. Don't get too comfortable with each other.
   This one isn't really possible and seems confusing since, you know, you're married and all. But I've noticed that the more comfortable you are with someone, the meaner you can be. [The following example is a fictional story, made up merely as an illustration.] For example, say you have guests staying at your house. One day, they decide to put some dishes away for you, but they put some of them in the wrong place. When they see you looking for the misplaced dish one day, they say, "Oh I put that in the cabinet by the stove." What would your response be? Probably, "Oh! Thanks for putting the dishes away! That was so nice of you!" Then you'd get the dish down and be on your merry way. Now pretend your husband did it. Instead of being grateful he put the dishes away, you might be a little annoyed that after how many years, he still doesn't know where the dishes go... and then you say, "Why did you put it there? The casserole dishes always go in the cabinet by the fridge! We've never put them in this cabinet. Why don't you know that yet?" Why am I so much more likely to berate and criticize my husband over anyone else? It really shouldn't be that way. And I'm hoping that I can be better about being a bit less comfortable with him.

8. Talk.
   ...especially if you're arguing/fighting/disagreeing a lot. Talk it out. For my husband--a man of very few words and not at all in touch with his feelings--talking it out isn't really his favorite thing. But if he's getting more and more frustrated about my unreasonable reactions towards him for putting the dishes in the wrong spot or bumping Logan's head into a wall/ceiling/door frame/light fixture but never tells me that I need to change how I'm expressing myself, I'm probably going to keep doing it. Maybe I should be smart enough to stay calm and not overreact--but most likely, I'm not in my smartest frame of mind when I'm upset... but if I know that he's told me that I'm upsetting him, perhaps I'll be able to tap into that part of my brain and respond with more grace and compassion. But also, if he never tells me that he's upset and I keep doing it, eventually--months or years down the road--he's going to reach a point where he no longer cares what I say or how I feel... because it seems as though I never cared about him. And that's a scary place to be.

9. Always assume your spouse has goodwill towards you.
   We learned this concept in our Love & Respect Experience devotional book. Instead of assuming that your spouse did or said something with the intent of being mean or hurtful, give them the benefit of the doubt. Assume the best of them. Assume they meant their question/comment/action in the nicest way possible. It makes a difference.

The first time I wrote an anniversary post, I just came up with some fun, silly things I learned in my first two years of marriage. Not a whole lot of depth went into it. But now, four years in, we're not "old married folks" by any means, but we've seen a new side of marriage. There's still silliness and fun and I've still never once regretted getting married--but we're better able to see how quickly things can fall apart if you don't try. So today, on our four year anniversary, we will be going out to dinner alone to get in some nice, quiet, wonderful child-free couple time. And hopefully we'll make this a bigger priority in the year--ahem, years--to come. Because we plan to be trying for a really really long time.

Also, the couple that dresses up like cows together and gets free Chick-fil-A together, stays together. [Not a proven fact, but it probably helps.] So go get your free Chick-fil-A on Tuesday. :) (That's two Chick-fil-A promotions within a week. They should totally be paying me to promote their free food days. Hah!)

the normal stuff of life

I think June 2015 marked the first month I haven't written a blog post since I started this blog. I could be wrong. I've been wrong before. But I really think so. Although I do feel like I have a reasonably good excuse... maybe. Since I last wrote at the beginning-ish of May, we have gone to South Carolina for a week and a half, to Dallas for a weekend (plus two other drives there and back), to San Antonio for a weekend, and my in-laws stayed with us for a week and a half and just left two days ago. Logan's naps have been less than consistent (to put it mildly), and the times he did nap I chose to spend that time cooking/cleaning/folding laundry WHILE watching a TV show on Netflix. Hah. That's the thing about TV shows (or movies)--you can watching them while you do something productive. You can't type a blog post while you fold laundry. Impossible. (Or at least very inefficient.) So I indulged myself. I watched a bunch of shows that are no longer airing, so at least there was a definite end point. And now I don't know what else to watch. Which, as it turns out, is a good thing. As you can see, I'm writing. And in my free time now, I work on becoming a better direct sales consultant in my humble attempt at contributing something to our finances. I can't work out of the home without racking up a huge daycare expense... so why not try working from home? And I'm selling bags--I love bags! So now I still get to see all my son's milestones, I'm making some money, I get free bags, I watch TV, I write... it all seems pretty great! [Until, of course, Logan is throwing his tenth tantrum of the afternoon and I haven't been able to do any of that because all he wants to do is be carried around and/or sit on my lap and watch the Five Little Ducks song again. But you know, perspective.]

Also since I last wrote, Logan is nearly two months older! Where does the time go? Here are his new accomplishments:

• He has mastered walking and is trying desperately to run. Falling does not deter him. 
• He now says Dada, duck, go, down, and an assortment of "one time" words that we can't get him to repeat. But he does not speak by request. He only talks if he wants to. And he's still completely incapable (or unwilling?) to say "mama." In fact, he laughs if I ask him to say it.
• He hates the word "no" and wants to do whatever we're saying "no" to even more once we say it. He even tries to run away with his contraband (so many things) and do it further away from us. He's kind of a brat. A cute, lovable brat though. 
• Whenever Sabre stands up abruptly either to go out the doggie door or follow Travis/me somewhere, Logan frantically runs/falls to a couch and holds on for dear life. Apparently the poor kid has been knocked down a few too many times. 
• This morning I asked Logan to get his ball, phone, and shoes--and he knew every single one! I had no idea! He also knows which toy is the duck in his bathtub. :)
• Logan is starting to love the dogs. His love, however, is a bit violent. He likes to whack their faces repeatedly. They don't stick around for too long. He also likes to climb over them. Sabre just lets him. Tatum panics and moves away. He also tries to give them his toys. I've been very proud of their restraint in not actually playing (ahem, biting and destroying) the toys Logan hands off. What sweet doggies!
• Logan loves testing gravity. I was warned about this... but I don't think I realized how incredibly annoying it would be. Now I know: so. annoying.

The dogs have also had quite the month. Sabre had an intestinal infection that caused some explosive diarrhea all over his crate and the wall. Travis had to clean it up (because I'm nice like that) and moved their crates outside while Sabre was on antibiotic. But then we decided we liked not having the crates inside (they're not very pretty), so we left them outside and now the dogs get to roam freely in the house. And sleep wherever they want. :) Tatum had an abscess on her stomach (most likely the result of a bug bite) and was also put on antibiotic [side note: big dogs need expensive antibiotics], but it didn't heal up, so now she's finishing up her second round and I think it's pretty much healed. Both dogs had their bi-annual comprehensive exam and first teeth cleaning. Sabre supposedly needs to be put on a special diet for his kidneys, but we're hoping there's a better option because the kidney diet dog food would cost us around $120 a month--and then we still have to buy Tatum food! But now I think the dogs are doing better (I hope!) and we'll be able to stop taking them to the vet for a little while. 

Travis and I are coming up on our fourth wedding anniversary, so hopefully I'll have a chance to do my "lessons I've learned in another year of marriage" post sometime in the next week. Gotta keep up the tradition--if not for anyone else, for me! And I've learned A LOT this year! Hah. :) So stay tuned! 

This has been an incredibly unexciting post, but sometimes, that's life. It's just normal and mundane and not all that exciting--but still wonderful. Logan is awake and talking to himself in his crib. Time to get back to mommy-ing. 

Also, July 14th is Cow Appreciation Day at Chick-fil-A. And July 23rd is Free Tea Day at McAlister's. July is a good month, folks!

A Legacy of Motherhood

I've been thinking about and anticipating Mother's Day for quite a while. Now before you think I'm an incredibly self-absorbed new mom that longs to be celebrated, let me explain. Back on June 1st, my sweet, precious baby boy made me a mom. It was an incredible day. But let me be honest... I was so incredibly overwhelmed. Some moms want to hold their newborn babies right away, as soon as they've entered the world. I was fine letting the nurses weigh and measure him first. My husband and sisters got to see Logan more than I did initially, and I was OK with that. I was excited that he was finally here, but I was terrified of this tiny person. It was suddenly my full responsibility to nourish and care for this completely helpless little baby. Why hadn't I realized how much pressure this was going to be? I spent that first night in the hospital alone with Logan... and I don't know that I slept at all. There were nurses checking on both of us all the time, yet I couldn't relax. Every tiny noise he made scared the sleep right out of me.

My mom had planned to be with me for the delivery, but Logan decided to show up a week early, so she hadn't arrived yet. When she finally got here, I was an absolute mess! I was having a terrible time nursing. After five days home with me, Logan had lost more weight. I couldn't sleep at all. Travis was sleeping harder and longer than he ever had in the entire duration of our marriage, and I was running on nothing. Logan would wake up crying, hungry, but I couldn't feed him. I couldn't get him to latch on and my breasts were endlessly engorged and aching. Then my mom arrived. It was time to feed Logan and I felt close to tears at the thought of making him cry because his inept mother couldn't figure out how to nurse him. My mom went with me to my bedroom, told me lie on the bed, and she placed Logan next to me. She helped guide his head and got him to latch on in mere seconds. I was shocked! Elated, but shocked. Logan finally got a good meal!

Since that day, I've gone to my mom for numerous other new-mom-freak-out-moments. And throughout the last year, I've realized something: I've always taken my mom for granted. Oh sure, we always celebrated Mother's Day with breakfast in bed, a basket full of her favorite goodies, and lunch at a restaurant of her choosing... but I don't know that I ever stopped to think about what a mom--my mom--really does. Then I became a mom, and it rocked my world--in a good way and an exhausting way. All the things I've had to do (some willingly, others begrudgingly), my mom had to do them too. Three times over! All the endless middle of the night feedings... followed by the endless middle of the night wake ups to play... the teething accompanied by fits of screaming till those teeth cut through... the injuries (though as the most cautious kid to ever walk the earth, I think I may have give my mom a false sense of security on this one--but then she had Brittany!)... the completely reasonable tears.... the completely unreasonable tears [like wanting to drink out of a straw but not wanting the straw in the cup.. but crying because no water was coming out of the straw]... the no sleeping at nap time... the no sleeping at night time... the husband working at night and being the only parent to calm a screaming baby... and eventually being the only parent able to calm the baby down because that's what they're used to. And these are only the things I've gone through. I'm one year in! One year?? My mom is over 25 years in! She's made endless cupcakes to take to school on birthdays. She's helped plan elaborate birthday parties. She's helped with school projects about the state of Texas or Annie Oakley. She helped come up with various Storybook Day (aka Halloween) costumes--even letting us have our costumes made at a tailor! She's made countless breakfasts before school while still preparing lunch for us to take to school. She's edited more papers than I could count and run lines with me for every play I've ever been in. She's played the piano for most of my vocal performances. She's always reminded me to turn to God and trust Him in all things. She helped me through my first heartbreak and helped me plan my wedding. She's flown back to the states on more than one occasion to be with me for a big life event. She gave up a month of vacation time to help take care of my son--and me. She hardly slept; she cleaned our house; she did our laundry; she cooked our meals; and she never once complained. No matter what it's been, she's done it willingly.

There are so many attributes of my mom that I long to emulate. My mom is not a gossip. I have never once heard my mom say a mean thing about someone else or reveal something someone shared with her in confidence. My mom is not a coddler. She encourages us and supports us--but also tells us when we are in the wrong and that we need to apologize. She always helps people. Part of her job is helping new families in Bandung get settled in and enrolled in language school. And no matter what, she always answers their phone calls. On Christmas morning, in the middle of our gift opening, she received a call from one of the new families. She apologized to us for interrupting Christmas, and took the call. The family's car had broken down in the middle of nowhere (essentially) and they weren't sure what to do--and didn't have the Indonesian language skills to communicate well. She made numerous phone calls to make sure that another car with a driver would go pick them up and help get their car in the shop. On Christmas morning!

I have never had to consider what kind of mother I want to be. I have always known that I want to be just like my mom. And that, my friends, is why I've been anticipating Mother's Day. Because this year, I understand. This year, I know that motherhood is exhausting and frustrating and wonderful and fun and so much more work than I ever realized. But it's also so rewarding. And I can assure you that through every single mom-moment I have, especially the ones where I feel overwhelmed and exhausted, my mom will always be there for me, because that's the kind of mom she is. So thank you, Mom. Thank you for being you. Happy Mother's Day!

Now I'm going to finish off with some wonderful Logan stories:

• I put Logan on my lap a couple days ago and started singing a song he likes. Just a few words into the song, he started clapping. He'd never clapped before. It was an exciting day! Hah.
• In one afternoon, Logan cried for the following reasons: I didn't let him stay outside and eat dirt after he crawled out the doggie door; I wouldn't let him play with the water in my drinking cup; I wouldn't let him pick up the dog food bowl and dump all the dog food on the floor; I checked outside the front door because the dogs were insistent that something/someone was out there, but I didn't take him outside; I didn't hold him nonstop the entire afternoon. 
• Logan follows me into the bathroom and then stands up next to me while I pee. As soon as I stand up, he tries to grab the toilet paper out of the toilet before I can flush it. He's only succeeded once: the first time. 
• If Logan sees me changing (ahem, without my shirt/bra on), all he sees is MILK. He starts panting and frantically trying to get to his (apparent) all-access buffet. [Weaning is on the horizon, folks!]
• Logan loves pasta! It doesn't matter how much food he's eaten: he will stuff his face with any kind of pasta. [Except for the Gerber graduate ravioli pick-ups. He spits those out. He'll eat dog food though. Just sayin'.]
• We let Logan watch music videos on YouTube. "The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round..." He bounces.
• In a desperate attempt to keep Logan from stealing our phones, we gave him Travis's old iPod touch to play with. He loves that thing. 
• When playing with his toys, Logan is determined to always have two toys in one hand. He will spend an inordinate amount of time trying to get both toys in the same hand. And he's always very proud when he succeeds. 
• Logan throws quite the temper tantrums if he doesn't get his way. Arched back, angry face, hitting mom, flopping to this back, etc. It's intense. But also a little bit funny. 

Home Renovation Junkie and Cake (And a Car!)

Last Sunday, when Travis picked Logan up from the nursery, his teacher said, "He's been walking. He takes about four steps or so. He'll probably need to move up to the next class next week." You guys. That's ridiculous! My sweet baby boy only just moved to the crawlers class. [In January. But still.] He's not ready to be with the walkers yet. Although I will say this: apparently Logan's Sunday school teacher knows better than I how much can change in just a week. On Tuesday he learned how to stand up. Not pull up. Stand up. He'd done it a couple times before, but never consistently. Then on Tuesday, it just clicked. He practiced it all day yesterday (Wednesday) and even challenged himself by trying to pick up a toy while in the standing up process. And then he takes steps. Slow, wobbly steps. He's improved quite a bit in just a week. He even had the thought to chase Sabre yesterday. He was climbing on the poor dog when Sabre finally realized he could leave. Logan tried really hard to walk after him, but only got about two steps in before he fell. [He was trying to go way too fast!] The one thing I didn't expect with all this "learning to walk" stuff was how good Logan is at catching himself. He rarely gets hurt. And I gotta say, after my first experience with baby injury blood, I'm more than happy to avoid any and all injuries. Logan doesn't stop doing something just because he got hurt once--he does it again, just differently. Pretty smart. (As I'm typing this, he's behind the glider playing with a basket of newborn socks I was pretending were already packed away, and his "baby Bible." Not important, just thought I'd let you know.)

So I started binge-watching Fixer Upper the other day. There aren't all that many episodes online, but I'm pretty good at tracking tv shows down. The show itself is wonderful. I've missed home improvement shows, and this one is probably my favorite. (It does, however, make Waco look quite a bit nicer than it actually is. Don't get me wrong; there are some nice parts of Waco. But I know the areas they're fixing up these houses...and there's a reason they don't show you the surrounding houses.) But you know what the problem with watching home improvement shows is? Suddenly your house looks completely inadequate. I mean really though. I've gone through and made a list of all the things--big and small--that I want to change in our house. Some of them have been in the talks for a while, but others are new based on my new vast knowledge of home renovation. [wink, wink] I also want to decorate. My decorating style is mostly a less-is-more philosophy for two reasons: dogs and babies. Anything that touches the floor has to be sturdy. It can't be knocked over by an 85 pound dog and it can't be pulled over by a pulling-up baby or broken by the giant kid trapped in my husband's body. For example, furniture is great! Yep. That's it. Just furniture. Nothing else. Oh! An area rug. I'm more than willing to hang things on the wall. (Which, by the way, is where our TV is now. You live and learn.) Pictures, frames, decorative accents--all great if they go on the wall. Or if they're throw pillows. I bought some inexpensive pillows recently to give our living room a bit more color... and I discovered why they didn't cost much. Already: holes. Big holes. [Because, hello, big dogs.] I found nicer, seemingly more sturdy pillows at Target but the husband said no. My second idea is to buy some sturdy [yet soft] fabric and just recover the existing cheap pillows. My only hurdle there is that I don't know how to sew. I mean, I can sew up a tiny little hole with the best of 'em. But this seems like it might be a bit out of my wheelhouse. We went shopping at this really fun antique/vintage store over by our old apartment, and they had this super cute dining room table. It had seating for six with these cushioned chairs... I would have bought it in a heartbeat. [Which is probably why Travis insisted on shopping with me. I planned to go this afternoon with the baby, but he said he wanted to go. And then vetoed my purchases. Sounds like a conspiracy to me.]

Before you think my dear husband is a penny-pinching tyrant, the reason he's been vetoing all my completely reasonable money-spending is because I convinced him to buy a new [used] car. I kept telling him we'd wait until we were pregnant again... then I said we'd wait till the end of this year... then I said we'd wait till this summer... then we bought a car now. I'm impatient, what can I say? But I was getting frustrated with squeezing myself into our Accord while holding a wiggly Logan so I could get him into his carseat. And out of his carseat. And we had to put the car in the shop for two days a few weeks ago because the AC was acting up and found ourselves without a kid-friendly car. Had the AC gone out in June or July or August, we would have been driving our little baby around in 100+ degree heat without AC because Travis's old junky car also has no AC. Anyway, my point is, I felt it was important to have more than one decent car. Coupled with my frustration at putting a baby in a sedan, we bought a beautiful Chevy Traverse. It's only three years old, has less than 50,000 miles, and is in great condition! It has an optional third row, so once our family expands a bit more (two kids more, actually), we won't have to get another car. At least, that's the hope. :) I love our new car. It's so wonderful. And it smells good.

My son will be turning one in a month and a half! That's crazy! At first I was thinking of just doing something really small. Possibly just a cake smash photo session with just us. But then I realized that turning one is a big deal and should be celebrated as such. So I think we're going to go to Dallas for the weekend, and celebrate with whatever family is around. And since it is a birthday and really, the first birthday is not so much for the baby since to him, it's the same as any other day, why not get the good foods for the adults and, most importantly, the good cake! I love cake. I really love good cake. Like the kind of cake you get at weddings. Some weddings. My wedding cake was delicious! :) So I've been researching cakes [probably too much] and now I just need to decide how much is reasonable for a cake for a one year old's birthday and where I'm going to order one. I was thinking about getting one here in Waco and taking it with us to Dallas, because why not try some local places? Obviously a big city like Dallas is going to have a ton of great [more expensive] bakeries, but why not get to know a few more local places. (Totally beside the point, but I think we're now recognized when we go to our favorite burger place here. They don't know our names, but they know us. And it's kind of nice.) I have a list of local restaurants we need to try. It's taking a while to get through because you know, money... and because Chick-fil-a. It's hard to go anywhere else. ;) OK, let's circle back and review: Logan will be one soon and we're going to go to Dallas, go to the Perot museum (it's also almost Travis's birthday, so the museum is what he wants to do because he's an absolute science nerd), get a Chick-fil-a nuggets tray (yes!!) and a delicious cake, TBD. (And a few other foods, don't worry. It's in process. I still have a month and a half to figure the rest out!)

You already know that Logan is starting to walk and can stand up all by himself. He also loves to eat my food. And he loves to drink water from his straw sippy cup and then dribble it down his chin and onto his clothes. Over and over and over again. Breakfast and dinner are quickly becoming diaper-only affairs. We're just going to have to power through lunch. Logan refuses to say "mama" or anything close to an "mm" sound. He's 100% committed to "dadadadada" all. day. long. He also slept ten hours straight last night. In a row. He's never done that before. And most likely, he'll never do it again. But it was amazing. I couldn't sleep because it was so strange, but that's another issue entirely. If he sees a basket of nicely folded laundry he automatically starts pulling everything out because why not make Mom crazy? (I can't decide if I need a comma after "laundry"...that's gonna bug me.) Dog food is still awesome. And he will now only sleep in his own bed, on his tummy. How things change.

I use brackets and parentheses interchangeably and for entirely different purposes at different times. Just so you know.

My Mama Bear Hour

The internet is suddenly out, so it seems like the perfect opportunity to write a blog post. When I’ll be able to post it is another matter entirely, but we’ll deal with that later. For now, the dogs are in their crates (because they weren’t mindful of the baby), the baby is sound asleep (though for how long is the ultimate question), the husband is at work, and I’m enjoying this extremely comfortable couch in absolute silence [save for the clicking of my keyboard and the humming of the baby monitor].

Last week we went to Oklahoma for my sister’s graduation from Basic Training for the Army. Even though traveling with a baby is something I strive to always avoid, it was wonderful to be there with the family. My parents flew to the states for the occasion, so we all got to be together for three days or so.

[What the heck? First, I type that my husband is at work and then thirty seconds later he texts me that he’s on his way home for dinner. No problem, I like it when he comes home. But then, two minutes after typing that the baby is sound asleep—a sleep that took all of one minute to happen a mere 15 minutes ago—he’s now awake and standing in his crib and crying. I don’t even know what to say. I have got to learn to stop typing these things! It’s too risky! Now I’m just sitting here, staring at my laptop.]

OK, the husband is back at work. Our internet is working again, but I can put off watching Gilmore Girls for the umpteenth time until after I finish this post. Hah.

So back to Oklahoma and my sister’s graduation. Overall, the trip was great! We discovered that Logan is quite the extrovert and knows no strangers. (He literally reached for a random woman at the graduation ceremony and sat on her lap for a good ten/fifteen minutes. No joke.) No matter how little sleep that baby got, as long as there was a room full of people, he was the happiest baby on the block. He made me look like a crazy new mom for insisting that he needs two naps a day, because even after missing one or both of his naps, he was still smiling and having a blast. He was exhausted—but happy. It wasn’t until we got home and all the people were gone that his exhaustion caught up with him and he suddenly became quite fussy and inconsolable. We got back to Waco on Saturday afternoon and that night, he slept for nearly 15 hours. (Not straight through. Don’t get too excited.) Speaking of baby sleep, since I’ve been so obsessed with the topic lately, it only makes sense that my very first “mama bear” moment came as a result of baby sleep—or lack thereof. Thursday morning at 10:00 am, we attended Fort Sill’s Family Day. Well Logan typically naps right around ten most mornings. So he had to skip his morning nap. Once Brittany could leave base with us for the rest of the day, we went out for lunch. It was a long wait because we had a big party and the food took a while to come out, but Logan was doing fine, so we just took his lead. Once he started getting a bit fussy, we decided to leave the restaurant a bit early and get him down for an afternoon nap. Once we got to the hotel, he was asleep within two minutes of being in his pack n play. Two minutes! Poor baby was exhausted! Then twenty minutes later, because everything in the entire world conspires to ruin baby sleep, the fire alarm in the hotel started going off. It was LOUD. However, after five minutes of continuous alarm-ing, my sleeping child still hadn’t woken up. It was amazing! I was about to go deaf, and he was still asleep. I called the front desk to find out if it was a fluke or if we actually needed to evacuate the building to which the receptionist said that we had to leave the building. I had to WAKE MY BABY UP because there was a supposed fire. I was a bit cranky about it, but you know, fires are bad. After the fire alarm was turned off, we went back inside and I tried in vain to get Logan back to sleep. I knew he wouldn’t put himself back to sleep, but I had hopes that I could nurse him to sleep in the bed. Just as he was dozing off, the fire alarm went off again. I was no longer cranky. I was livid. He eventually sat up and was far too awake for any more napping. I called the front desk again only to find out that they had only been testing the system all along. It was just a test. I yelled at the woman on the phone, informing her that I wasn’t paying good money to stay at a hotel where I couldn’t even let my baby nap! But even after yelling on the phone, I was still on fire. I decided to go yell at them in person (Travis went with me just to make sure I stayed relatively calm) in the lobby. The general manager told me there was nothing she could have done because when the fire marshal says they need to test the system, they have to test the system and she told everyone at dinner the night before and breakfast that morning that it was going to happen. My response? I WAS AT DINNER AND BREAKFAST! NO ONE TOLD ME ANYTHING! If I had known, I would never have left lunch early to get my son down for a twenty-minute nap! She apologized. I left still angry. Logan was smiling with the family upstairs. I looked like a lunatic. Eventually I got over it. The manager gave us an apology gift and I felt pretty bad. But I experienced my first mama bear moment. I don’t know that I want to experience many more. Hah.

I’ve also now experienced the “grandparents/aunts/uncles/etc. will feed your baby anything” thing. Logan ate chocolate-chip cookies, chocolate, ice cream…we’re limiting his sugar now. Hah. He also ate some fruits and veggies every once in a while. J We have some great pictures of him eating a huge strawberry. He loved it and he was a complete mess.

For the rest of my Logan news, I’m switching to bullet points. It’s faster. 

• Logan is now very adept at walking with his walker. It makes me nervous that solo walking is right around the corner. 
• Despite all the fun animal-shaped bath toys Logan has, the only toy he wants to play with now is the water dipper. The one bath item that’s for me to use is now his favorite. Figures. 
• He waves now! Not so much at appropriate times, but he loves to wave and loves it even more if you wave back! 
• We had our first “poop in the bathtub” experience. Could have done without that one. 
• Today was like a flying unicorn kind of day. Logan hardly fussed all day. He took two 1 hour, 15 minute naps. He sat on my lap for about ten minutes and giggled every time I said, “Puh-puh-poof!” [What can I say? I’m hysterical.] He sat in his high chair happily for over half an hour while I made his and my dinner. He ate some yellow curry with rice and seemed to like it. The dogs ran into him while going through the doggie door and he only cried for a little while—scrambled eggs and some bites of a biscuit made it all better. He loved my “Zaccheus” song and didn’t cry when I took him out of the bathtub. And for the first time maybe ever, I didn’t want it to be bedtime yet. Flying unicorn days may not be very frequent, but I sure loved this one.

In other news, we had to get our AC fixed in our good car, so I’ve had no car for the last two days. I had to drive Travis’s awful car this morning and couldn’t seem to get it into gear. I have no clue how or why, but I kept maxing out at 40 mph even when I was in fifth gear. Travis says I obviously wasn’t in fifth gear, but I don’t know what else I could have been in. Fifth is the furthest gear you can be in. I’m not saying that “user error” is an impossibility, but I drove that car for a year to and from work every single day and I never had this problem. Granted it’s been a couple years since then, but driving a stick is like riding a bike, right? Anyway, we get our car back tomorrow morning. Yay!

If you like chocolate, you should make Pioneer Woman’s chocolate pie filling recipe and eat it as chocolate pudding. [Same same.] I made a whole recipe on Sunday and finished eating it this afternoon—and I’m not even sorry. UH-mazing!