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!