Oh poop

Wow life has been busy and tiring. I have had so many posts floating around in my head. Hopefully I will have a few moments to post some in the coming weeks. And for now here is a lovely dissertation on poop. You have been warned.
We have been fairly lucky parents when it comes to poop accidents. Well, at least since Gavin turned one.  As a baby he only pooped about once a week and when he did it exploded to the moon. Nothing was safe and it was always a guarantied bath. You know I forgot about that until I started writing this post.
Besides those weekly experiences, we were lucky. I have never had a child poop in the tub. Even potty training wasn't too bad in the messy poop department. After we finally got Gavin to go on the toilet, he never had an accident. The accident free streak ended at the worst possible moment.
 A few weeks ago we were invited to a BBQ at Jim's adviser's house.  Every year she throws a little party at the end of summer for all her students. We arrived at her house and the boys were instantly in heaven with her children's toys. I was excited that they were entertained enough that I might get to mingle a little bit. About ten minutes after our arrival Gavin came running out of the play room with a look of panic on his face. I knew it was urgent and rushed him to the bathroom.  I was expecting a pee pee accident but no, for the first time he had pooped his pants! I was horrified and he was panicked. I tried my best to get his pants off without spilling the poop. I failed. The small nugget hit the floor and I let out a little screech. Gavin jumped  and fell backwards, landing on my leg. As he stood up I let out my second screech as I looked at the smashed poop from his bum that was now all over my jeans. I was horrified and didn't know what to do. I started looking in the cupboard under the sink for something to clean up with. I felt so violating going through someone else's cabinets. The only thing I came up with was toilet paper. About five flushes and almost an entire roll of toilet paper later, I gave up and stared at the wet patched lined with lovely white lint balls on my thigh. I am sure the look on my face was one of utter disgust. I looked down at Gavin. He was so worried and apologetic I instantly felt bad for my reaction.  As I was sniffing my pants to see if I was going to smell like poop the rest of the night my horror turned to humor. I just had to laugh. Luckily there wasn't really any poop on Gavin's clothes. How that happened I still don't know. We finally made it out of the bathroom and enjoyed the rest of the evening without anyone knowing what had happened. We did have a lot of fun although I was scared that I smelled like poop the whole night. I survived poop trauma number one.
The second tragedy came on Halloween. We were going to a party in the afternoon so I tried to put Griffin to nap early. He fought it and cried for about 15 minutes. I was determined he would have a nap, so I just left him in there. Soon his cries turned to singing. Jingle Bells was particularly funny since it was Halloween. After 40 minutes in his room I gave in and when in to get him. When he saw me he said
 "Hi mom! yucky nose and hands." I looked down at him in the crib and the horror struck me. His hands were covered in dried poop. I didn't see any on his face so I was hoping the "yucky nose" just meant that it stunk. Further inspection found it on the backboard of the crib, finger painted all over his sheets, and small chunks clinging to his stuffed animals. I should have taken a picture, but at the moment I was just too appalled. I picked him up under his armpits and ran to the changing table. In my mind was was leaving a trail of runny poop all across the room. It had to be a bad leak to make such a mess. However, when we got to the changing table I was surprised to see it had not leaked out of his diaper. Further inspection reveled he had just stuck his hand down the back of his pants and into his diaper to find the treasure! It took me almost twenty minutes to clean him up. In case you didn't know, dried poop does not wash off easily. He really fought me while I used a nail file to dig the poop out of his nails. Luckily everything else I just tossed in the washing machine and it came out as good as new. Those stuffed animals were probably in need of a good washing anyway. So now I call Griffin "the poop painter."
it is a good thing my boys are cute! I have had my fill of poop fun. I hope that is the end of it for at least a little while.

Deep sleep

Wouldn't it be so nice to be able to sleep like a little boy? Griffin and I were snuggling on the couch the other day when  he fell asleep. I wiggled out from under him and left him to nap, lining the floor with pillows. About five minutes after I left him I heard a thunk, and ran back into the room. Sure enough he had rolled off, but didn't even wake up. He slept like this for about another hour.  This isn't the first time this has happened. Griffin has fallen off my bed before and it didn't wake him up either. I am so jealous.
 

A peaceful dinner

Jim has been working late a lot lately which means my cooking is pretty nonexistent. My appetite has finally returned with full force. The other night scrambled eggs, or a peanut butter sandwich just wasn't going to cut it. I was craving a good stir fry, so I bravely attempted to cook. Evening time is usually the time when the boys fight or get into trouble. Making dinner is always a headache if Jim isn't around to entertain them. But this night the boys gave me the best gift. Not once in all the time I was chopping or cooking did they scream, fight, or come ask for my help. After it was done cooking, I looked over and they were still playing happily, so I decided to sit down and eat all by myself. I ate my whole bowl without one interruption, and it tasted delicious! It was so relaxing and rejuvenating. There is never a meal where I don't get up at least three times. 

Of course the peace and quite for me meant a trail of toys all through the house. But the mess was worth it. Because a peaceful dinner time is like a mini vacation for this mom.

So different

The other day the boys were painting at the table. I was looking at the back of their heads and comparing the differences. Gavin has this thick wiry hair that is full of cowlicks  and impossible to style. His neck line grows in towards each other and makes a cute little tale we have to keep trimmed.  We try and keep his hair pretty short to keep it looking okay. Griffin on the other hand has baby fine hair that is so silky and smooth and lays very flat. I love to pet his head when he cuddles me because his hair is so soft. They have completely different heads. 

 

But that is not all. These two came completely different from birth. Their temperaments, interests, food preferences, play style are naturally so different. Gavin has never been a good sleeper. As a tiny newborn we would have to physically shut his eyes as he fought so hard to stay awake. And as he grew a little bit older he had to be in a room all by himself with quiet and dark to fall asleep. His mind has been racing since the day he was born and it showed from the beginning. He is a thinker, a worrier, problem solver, organizer, little engineer, and he just came that way. He always gravitated to the blocks, stacking cups, and puzzles for his choice of toys. He still really struggles with anything imaginative, although he is getting better.  He has thought very literally from the day he was born.

Griffin on the other hand is our cuddly, friendly, do before he thinks little boy. He loves animals, trucks, trains, and has an active little imagination.  He is always pretending with any toy he touches, making him a great self entertainer. He enjoys structured activities but doesn't require them like Gavin. He is very forgiving and oh so loving. He does not hold a grudge.  He was the easiest baby on the planet and pretty much never cried. He was a better sleeper almost from birth and still hardly ever complains when it is nap time.
And I am so grateful they are different. They each are amazing little souls and I can only imagine what they will be able to accomplish in their lives. I hope that I as there mother can help them use their unique gifts and differences to become what they can become. It also makes me excited and anxious for baby number three. What will he/she be like? I think it is one of the funnest things about being a mom, discovering what your baby is all about. Learning their temperament, preferences, and what they are most drawn too. Parents have a powerful influence in shaping their kids, but we don't shape it all. They come the way they come, and those innate traits are the most beautiful of all.

Feeling life

Yesterday we had a little bit of a crazy morning. They boys were just annoying each other and fighting over toys. I was chasing them around the house trying to get them to share and not hurt each other. In the middle of a fight, I caught my heel on the wood base board on the couch and ripped a huge chunk of skin off. I was bleeding all over the place and had to run to the other room to get something to help it stop. I left a trail of blood across my carpet. Just as I grabbed something to stop the blood I saw child number one grab the stick horse they were fighting over and whack it across Griffin's head. They were screaming and wrestling over the horse, and I fumbled to slap a bandaid on my heal to hold the blood in long enough to stop the fight. I put Gavin in his room for time out, put Griffin on the couch, and finish patching up my wound. I decided it was nap time when I heard books flying at the closed door. I put the boys in separate rooms to nap and got to work on scrubbing all the blood dots out of the carpet. I wasn't in the best mood at this point.

   Right then the only thing I wanted was a nap. After twenty minutes of scrubbing I finally got to lay down on the couch. It was this moment when Griffin start yelling. He is usually the perfect kid going down to nap, but of course he chose this day to fight it. I finally gave in and went in his room to discover he was poopy. Now Griffin goes down great but if you ever enter his room again, he will scream and scream until you get him out. After changing his diaper, I tried to leave him in there anyway, knowing he really needed a nap, but alas, after a half hour of crying, I gave up. I cuddled my sweet boy on the couch since Gavin was asleep on my bed. Much to my surprise Griffin feel asleep almost immediately. I laid there with a headache still feeling a little bit frustrated.  It seems every day has at least one absolutely crazy moment where I feel totally out of control.  My thoughts wondered to what in the world I am going to do when baby number three arrives. And then I felt it. The first movement of life inside. I held my breath wondering if it was real. And then it came again and again. That familiar little flip that I cherished with my other pregnancies. I could feel my baby move inside of me. I was over come with awe and gratitude. Feeling life makes this pregnancy so much more real. I looked down at Griffin's amazing eyelashes and adorable nose and watched him sleep.  I laid there and thanked my Heavenly Father for the amazing blessing of being a mother. Suddenly my frustration was gone and I was no longer scared about adding another beautiful child to our family. There will be many more crazy moments, but also many many more sweet moments, and that makes it all worth it.

Couch to 5K, and the belly

I wrote this post about two months ago, but I was waiting to take a picture of the awesome sunset to put with it and never did.  So I thought I would post it now, with a little update. 

After that lovely workout experience a couple of weeks ago, I was just aching for a real work out. I miss my workout buddies so much. Emily, Ali, Stacey, any of you want to move to Cali? Anyway, I wanted to be sweaty and sore and all that comes with it. We can't afford a gym pass, and I live on the second floor, so workout videos I can't really do. I walk to the library and parks multiple times a week, about a mile each way, and chasing little kids can be a workout, but it just doesn't cut it. 

I finally found some inspiration. A long time ago I read about a program called Couch to 5k on this blog. It was months ago, but I never forgot about it. The idea of starting the program has been in the back of my mind since then. But I had a big hurdle to overcome. I have always hated running. I preferred dancing, aerobics, biking, the elliptical, pretty much anything over running. In my mind it was boring, it made my hip hurt, and was just plain hard, and every time I have tried to start running I pushed myself so much at first I was sick or sore and hated it so much I couldn't stick with it. The one time I did run consistently was with my drill team in college. And even when I got in shape, I still hated it. 

Well, I finally buckled down and decided to give it a try. I am just starting my third week of running. And you know what, I have stuck with it. The program starts slow enough that it is not overwhelming, but pushes enough to get a good work out. And I feel good. I never had an iPod to run with before, and music makes all the difference in the world. I never listen to the music I own anymore, and I tell you what, it is fun! I go running three times a week, usually at night after we put the kiddos to sleep. I drive over to a near by high school and I have 30 minutes all to myself. Plugged out from the world. I can't hear anything or anyone and it is glorious. The sun is usually setting and it is beautiful to take in the sunset alone like that. I love to enjoy nature, and often don't notice the beautiful things around me enough. But the evening sky truly is magnificent. The California air is glorious and never too hot. There are usually a few people on the track, but I don't pay any attention to them. It is my release and during the run, it is just me and my music. And you know what, I think I am a better mom because of it. It feels so good to have a little me time that is not in front of the computer or TV. I love my children with all my heart. I love that I stay home with them. I love reading, playing, and hanging out with them. But it can be tedious and repetitive. Every mom needs a break away. When I step out of the house, away from dishes, laundry, and little voices, it does wonders to rejuvenate me and help me be more focused on my kids the next day. 

Now, as for the actual running part, still not loving that. My hip does ache, I need some new shoes, and I need to find the perfect running songs. The dancer in me has to run to the beat, and most songs are too slow or to fast. But either way I still love my music. My iPod battery died 2 minutes after arriving at the track yesterday and it ruined the whole experience. I could hear myself breath, and I had nothing to concentrate on except the actual running. I was much more aware of the skinny, in shape, high schoolers killing me around the track. Ugg. And oh boy did the time just drag! I had to really push myself to make it to the end of the workout. So for me and running, music is the key. My iPod will always be charged from now on! Maybe my iPod and I will actually make it to run a 5k one of these days. I just added it to my bucket list.

Well just reading that made me a little sad. I was loving my new routine. And then I got pregnant. And I was sick, and oh so tired. I could barely make it through the kids bedtime routine, let alone think of putting on my running shoes (or blogging.) I did go once after the sickness kicked in, but it made me so tired I could never get myself motivated to try again. I am now 15 weeks along and the sickness has passed but the exhaustion is still there. I hope I will get some energy back in the coming weeks. But if you aren't pregnant and sick, and want to start running, I highly recommend the couch to 5k program. I am thinking next spring I will give it another try! 

But a baby is totally worth it. I just got to meet my brand new baby niece, and I tell you what, if you want to feel close to heaven, just hold a newborn. I can't wait to have that feeling in my arms again, and I am excited it will be mine!  

So I tried to take a self portrait of my baby belly. Ha ha ha. It is hard to get a good picture of yourself. This was the first try and it made my arm look ginormous. So I decided to head to a mirror.

But I struggled to get the aim right.
 

 

And this was the best I got. I guess I need a little more practice in the self portrait photo shoots. But you can see I am showing!  

A Conversation in Walmart

I have been gone once again, and have some fun things to write about. But today I have a conversation I just couldn't resist sharing. My two little boys and I took a walk with the double stroller to Walmart to get a few things to make cupcakes. I was looking for a cake mix when a lady came up to me and asked if the boys were twins. You would be amazed that this question is asked me almost weekly, even though it seems obvious that Gavin is much bigger than Griffin.  I figure people just look at the double stroller and not at the kids. Anyway, I smiled and gave my usual answer that they are just 18 months apart. She then told me that her and her sister were only 13 months apart and it was lots of fun. I smiled, gave a simple reply, and started looking for my next item. I turned the corner and she followed me. Her next question came as quite a surprise,
"Do you want to know how to make a girl?"
I just looked at her in shock and said "um, I think I am okay."
"But it is really fun to make a girl. I read a book all about positions and how to get the sex you want."
"Oh wow," I said because nothing else was coming to mind.
"And making a girl is really fun." The look on her face was pure excitement. And I was just terrified as to what would come next. So I said the only thing I could think of.
"That's cool, but I think I am okay."
At that moment Gavin started screaming because Griffin was kicking his seat. I turned my full attention to their fight and walked away as quickly as possible. It might have been the first time I was grateful my kids were throwing fits in a store.  

A baby story

My sister-in-law is about to have her first baby any day. I have been thinking about her and reflecting back on my own birth experiences. I hope she has a better experience than I did.  I just went back on my family blog and looked at Gavin's birth story written by Jim. Hahaha. Men and women experience things so differently. Here is how he described the day:

Kathie had her weekly checkup on Wednesday afternoon. After doing the exam, the doctor reluctantly told us he was confident we were a couple weeks away based on her current dilation and station, effacement, etc. That seemed to make perfect sense considering the due date was . . . two weeks away. ;)Early the next morning Kathie began feeling contractions that were a bit different than normal. They didn't go away when she changed activity or drank a couple glasses of water. I decided considering this news that I probably shouldn't go into school for the days events. Turned out to be a good decision. Her contractions started getting so regular and consistent (every five minutes for an hour) that we went down to the hosptial. When we got there, they did an exam, and then turned us away saying basically that she "wasn't in enough pain." We drove back home but the pains just kept getting worse. Once we got home, Kathie was in so much pain, we just decided to go right back down.Turns out we should have just waited downstairs in the lobby for an hour, because when we came back for the second time, she was dilated to a 5 and they admitted us immediately. Everything went very well during the labor and delivery. We are so happy that little Gavin made it to us healthy and well. What a wonderful blessing he is to our family.

Well, I would not say that everything went well. It was the hardest most exhausting day of my life, well worth the blessing that came, but not in any way easy.  I wanted to document my experience in my own words. I have always enjoyed reading other people's birth stories, so I thought I would share it on here. Be prepared, I will go into details, so if you don't like that kind of thing, don't read on.

Waiting for the contractions to get closer together

What Jim said about the appointment was spot on. However he did leave out the fact that that night I stayed up until 1:00 am washing baby clothes, taking pictures, and blogging about my baby showers. Big mistake. Any mother's waiting to go in to labor, go to bed early every night! It was only two and a half hours later that my contractions started.  At 3:30 am they were about seven minutes apart and so I would wake up, have a contraction, barely dose off again and then the next one would start. I did jumping jacks and drank orange juice hoping to make them stop, but nothing worked. At 6:00 am I finally woke up Jim and told him I thought I might be in labor. He opened up a spread sheet and like a true computer nerd started keeping track of my contractions. They stayed between five and seven minutes for several hours. Around 9:00 we called down to the hospital. They told us to come in when they were consistently 5 minutes apart for one hour. So at about 11:00 we got in the car and headed to the hospital. I was so afraid of being turned away that we made sure they really were that close. However when we got there, they were crowded and took me in some little room. I am not one to yell and cry to the world about my pain so I just tried to calmly sit there. The nurse came in and basically told me I didn't look like I was in labor. I was dilated to a three, and I was having consistent contractions, but they didn't look bad. She said if I was really in labor I shouldn't be able to talk through my contractions. So she sent me home and told me to come back next week at my appointment. I was so mad. It is not like I jumped in the car at the first contraction. I had been contracting for eight hours already! Couldn't they just tell me to take a walk around the hospital for an hour and then they would check me again? As I got to the waiting area and sat down to wait for Jim to go get the car I started to cry. The pain was getting worse and I was on my way home! By the time we got back to our apartment the contractions were very uncomfortable and I was crying again. I called my mom and sister and they told me to go back. So after about five minutes of being home we headed back to the hospital.
By this time I was getting very sick. They checked me in and were much more attentive this time. I began throwing up between each contraction, that were now just three to four minutes apart. The first nurse that checked me even came in my room and said, "oh now you look like you're in labor!" I wanted to punch her in the face. My nurse that was assigned to me was so wonderful though. She paged the anesthesiologist at least five times trying to get him there as fast as possible. Because of my vomiting, they had to do the epidural during my contractions because I could hold more still  through the contraction then when I was dry heaving. But oh that sweet sweet epidural. I think it is the best invention in the world. Within a minute I had complete relief.

I was so exhausted from so little sleep, so many hours of contracting, and all the vomiting, I basically passed out as soon as the meds hit my system. It was the most glorious and welcome rest, until only minutes later I was woken up by about ten doctor's in my room and an alarm sounding. They were rolling me over and making me get up on my hands and knees. I was so confused and angry because I all wanted was that sleep I had just entered into. Apparently Gavin's heart rate dropped significantly. This happened multiple times. After the third time all hopes of sleep were now gone and I had to lay on my back with a oxygen mask on. It was so awkward, but at least I wasn't in pain because of the wonderful epidural. The rest of the evening was just a big waiting game. I was so exhausted but sleep wouldn't come. Most of all I wanted a drink of water. I was throwing up for almost an hour and they wouldn't even let me drink some water, just a few ice chips. With the epidural my contractions started to slow and I stopped progressing. They decided to break my water to get things moving again. This is where I became famous. They had their normal towels ready to catch the water, but nothing could contain the ocean that exploded when they broke my water. It was insane! It kept coming and coming and coming and the nurses were shocked! It went off the table and covered the entire floor. They told me they had never seen so much water in one person before. For the rest of my stay at the hospital I was known as "the water lady." Then it was more waiting. And finally they decided to hook me up to pitocine. Our families were going nuts and were worried because we didn't give them updates often enough, but there just wasn't anything to update on.
Finally I was getting uncomfortable again, although this was just pressure that the epidural wouldn't take away. I felt like I needed to push. The doctor came in and said I was ready and at a ten, except there was one corner of my cervix that had not softened. She told me I couldn't push or I could cause serious damage. I had to hold Gavin in and resist the urge to push for an hour! Anyone who has experienced that urge can imagine how hard that was. It was the hardest part of the whole experience. They kept massaging the cervix and an hour later the corner gave in. Finally I could push. It was now about 10:00 pm. I had only had two and a half hours of sleep, no food or water, and my body was in complete and utter exhaustion. I was pushing with all I had and really didn't know how I could do it. And then my contractions stopped, seven minutes went by and they had to give me a big dose of pitocin again. It was becoming the never ending labor. I just wanted my baby here and safe and to go to sleep. It finally picked up again, and an hour after the pushing started my sweet beautiful baby boy was born at 10:58 pm.

I collapsed on the bed and watched from a distance as they washed him, weighed him, and did all his tests. It felt like an out of body experience as I watched. I was so tired all emotion seemed to be zapped from me as well. It didn't feel like it was my husband and baby that I was watching. I felt like I was looking into some strangers life. And then I held him, and I felt completely overwhelmed. I couldn't believe this tiny beautiful boy was mine. I couldn't believe all those months and days, and the horrible long day I had just been through had produced this sweet innocent, straight from heaven little spirit.  And then I was overwhelmed with fear, and a little panic. I was so out of it I was afraid I was going to drop him. I was so afraid they were going to make me take him with me immediately, when I felt like I didn't even have the strength left in me to hold him. I was terrified because all I wanted was to go to sleep. I was trembling and no amount of heated blankets could get it under control. It was exhaustion like I had never experienced in my life and I felt like I had no control over my mind or body. And then I felt like the worst mother in the world.

self portrait he took while waiting in the hospital

But I had one amazing thing by my side, my sweet sweet husband. Jim stayed the night, and I knew he was with it. I knew he could do, what I couldn't do. I knew he had the strength and mental capacity to handle all that I couldn't at the moment.  I knew he could take in Gavin's stats and his first breath and that he would remember it all. I knew he could hold him and love him. And he did.
They ended up taking Gavin to the nursery for the night because his blood sugar was low. I think that was a small blessing for me. It took the guilt of just wanting to sleep away. Sometime after midnight I was able to eat a few bites of food and finally close my eyes and fall into an instantaneous deep sleep. I was awoken a few hours later when they brought Gavin in to nurse. I was groggy, but much more aware than right after delivery. It was the moment I had dreamed right after birth would be like. The exhaustion was no longer taking over my mind. I took him in my arms and I could actually feel his warmth and breath.  My head was once again my own. I could take in that sweet new baby smell. I could examine all his tiny parts in the dark of the night. I could feel him settle in against my skin. It was a beautiful moment that was completely and utterly mine. Jim was asleep on the couch, and it was just me and my new baby. The love and emotion was stronger than I could ever express. Everything was worth it. He was perfect and he was mine.

Joy

This past weekend was my little guy's birthday.  Griffin turned two years old and the whole weekend  was so much fun. It was Labor day weekend so we had three whole days together as a family. It was perfect. Saturday we woke up and headed to the zoo.  We loved seeing the animals, riding the skyride, and taking a spin on the cars and merry-go-round. We came home and built a new tool bench toy that had come in the mail. The rest of the weekend we went to church, played trains and firetrucks, opened presents, rode bikes, found sticks, ate cupcakes, got McDonald smoothies and played in the play place. And I was completely happy and content the whole weekend.

Flash back five years, and this would not have been what I would have thought of as an ideal weekend. We would have never dropped money on a merry-go-round and so thoroughly enjoyed it. We wouldn't have driven 50 minutes to see an elephant. We wouldn't have found any pleasure in searching for sticks, or climbing in the McDonald's play place.  Kids change every aspect of your life. Five years ago I was riding a segway through Washington DC and thought it was one of the coolest things I had ever done. It was a blast, and so much fun. Yet now, the sight of an elephant and the looks on my boys' faces brings me true joy, which is way more than just fun. I love that change in my life that my kids brought. I have experienced what true joy really is, and it is in the simple discoveries and joy I see in their eyes.

A mom's sick day

I have been sick this week and so not in the mood to blog. Really, there weren't very many moments that I can say I really was loving. I am a pretty selfish sick person and just want my bed and pillow. And there were a couple of days that were so hot, so miserably hot that made it all worse. Northern Californians do not believe in air conditioning. Honestly I just don't get how Silicon Valley can be the hot bed for all technology, yet they are missing the amazing invention of the AC. Come on people. So as you can probably read, I have been grumpy. 

Unfortunately the job of a mom does not let you call in sick. My mood was rubbing off on everyone. You know the saying, "if mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy," well this week I discovered the truth to that. My boys matched my mood perfectly. They were restless and at each others' throats. I knew they were needing to get out and about. This morning I was feeling pretty good, so I decided we would make a run to the park. And what a great choice it was. The weather was a perfect 72 degrees. There were no other kids there. I sat down on a bench and basked in the cool breeze and fresh air. They boys ran right to the playground. With shoes off and sand toys in hand, they were off to play in complete happiness. It was amazing. There was no fighting, no whining, no calling mom to build a sand castle or help them down the slide. They actually played without me. They ran, and laughed, and climbed, and slid, without needing me right by their side. It was so refreshing. Now don't get me wrong, I love to play with my boys, but sometimes it is nice to just watch. I have always been jealous of moms that could go to the park and just watch their kids play. It can get so exhausting when I am their only form of entertainment all day long. With Gavin, independent play is not common, and today it was a gift. We were at the park for almost two hours. I did push them on the swings, and read a book while we ate a snack on the bench, but other than that, I sat and watched, and it was the best moment of my week.

Reaching my full potential

A little over four years ago I went to visit an allergist in Baltimore. I was having a hard time sleeping because I was itching so bad. We decided to do a prick test to see what I was allergic to.  It took some time to stick the 20+ needles in my arm and let them sit, so the doc and I had plenty of time to chat. He was probably in his late fifties and very friendly. We chatted about his family, Utah, and more. Of course he asked what had brought us out to the east coast from Utah. I told him about Jim's schooling and my job, and that I would need allergy meds that were okay to take while pregnant because we were  planning to start trying for a baby soon.  He surprised me when he asked why I wasn't going to school. I explained that I had finished my Bachelors right before the move and now I was trying to support Jim in his PhD.  He started to get a little huffy and told me I shouldn't put my husband before myself. He told me I was a smart girl and should have my own goals, and not just follow my husband into his dreams. He then went on to tell me about his amazing wife who was a psychologist who had made a big name for herself. They had waited to have children until they were both established in their careers and then had one daughter. He told me I should really think about kids because I was young and had plenty of time. He warned me that I might loose my potential if I jumped into kids right now.

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I found myself a little embarrassed and fumbled over words trying to make my plans seem more appropriate to him. Luckily the test soon ended. As I left he told me to think about myself and what I could become. I smiled and got out of there as fast as I could. As I drove away I felt ashamed of myself. I knew I could do grad school and succeed. And than that shame turned to anger. How dare this stranger tell me what is most important in my life and make me doubt myself. He didn't know Jim and I. He didn't know our beliefs and our plans. How dare he pass that judgement. I never went back to the follow up appointment. 

And now four years later that anger has turned into perspective. I wish I could go back and answer his questions in such a different manner. I wish I could erase my embarrassment and self doubt and let him know what I believe. If you believe that what makes you great, and what makes you reach your full potential is only a career, then he was dead on, I am not going to amount to much. But I don't believe that. I have learned more in three plus years as a mom than I did in any class or job I held before. Being a mother gives me more purpose in life than anything else I have ever done. I have grown and changed more through seeing myself in the eyes of a child than ever before.  I have a deeper desire to be kind, charitable, loving, giving, humble, and prayerful than ever before.  I  believe that having a family refines you and makes you a much better person than anything else in this world can.   I believe it is through families that we can reach our full potential.  The world may disagree with me. To the world my job my seem lowly and unattractive. I may look to some like I have given up on myself, like I have wasted my potential. But that is okay, because I know that in giving of myself, I am becoming more like the person I want to be.  

Wrapped in a band aid of love

About four months ago my father had a horrible accident. He owns his own contracting business and was up on a roof doing measurements for a job. As he started down the ladder he slipped and fell, landing face first on the cement. He spent weeks in ICU with a serious brain injury. We were just lucky he was alive. I talked about Grandpa's accident with Gavin. He kept him in his prayers and always reminded whom ever was praying to pray for Grandpa. His tender heart was very worried about him.  I spent a lot of time in the  hospital, and my boys stayed with my amazing in-laws. Each time I left them Gavin wanted to come with so he could give Grandpa a band aid to make him feel all better.

When Dad was finally moved out of ICU and to a rehab floor, the boys were able to come with to see him. Gavin search through the box of Toy Story band aids to find the perfect one with Woody on it. He held on to it for dear life as we road in the car and walked through the hospital. I will never forget the look of concern on Gavin's little face as we walked in to see Grandpa. His little three year old eyes were filled with so much compassion. He was gentle as he climbed up on the bed and softly hugged Grandpa. He told him "Grandpa I brought you a Woody Band Aid to make you feel all better!" Grandma helped him put it on Grandpa's arm. Relief seemed to come to Gavin once that was finally on Grandpa's arm.  He had been wanting to bring in for so long, he just knew it would make him feel better. Dad wasn't responding too much yet but he did give Gavin a faint hug and a sweet smile. Before we left Gavin sang Grandpa his favorite song, "I Love to See the Temple." Tears rolled down Dad's cheeks. The whole visit was one of the sweetest things I have ever experienced. The concern, compassion, love, and faith that radiated from my little boy was so strong. Oh how I hope he never looses those qualities. My dad refused to let anyone take the band aid off his arm for a couple weeks. I think he could feel the love that it represented. 

When we arrived at my parents house on our most recent trip to Utah, Gavin was excited as always. He bounded in the door and then stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Grandpa walking down the hall. "Grandpa's all better!" he exclaimed with excitement. My heart melted with gratitude as I saw my dad walking in his home with a big smile on his face. While he still has some challenges ahead, and strength to regain, he is doing amazing. And I would like to think that a small part of the reason he is doing so well is because of the love and faith of a little boy.       

Never trust a silent toddler

Dear Target,

I want to apologize for the half eaten plumb that is lying on the floor somewhere in your store. Griffin grabbed it and took a bite while I was picking out yogurt. I had intended to buy it and foolishly let him carry it in a bag through the store. It was not until I got home and unloaded my bags that I realized it was missing.  One day I will learn not to trust a toddler to carry anything for me. I intend to pay you back on my next visit.

Sincerely,
Kathie

The headless dancer

I have a small collection of willow tree figures. Each was given to me at an important milestone in my life. When I look at them, I am reminded of the most important and special moments in my life, and the dear people who gave them to me. One day Gavin was throwing a ball around the house. I asked him to stop and said "Something is going to get broken. We only play with the ball outside."
The moment I finished my sentence Gavin launched the ball into the air. It seemed to move in slow motion and I knew what was coming. It smashed right into my shelf, knocking down three of my figures. I heard the crash and new one had to be broken. Sure enough it was my little dancer. She had been decapitated.

I was quite distraught, and Gavin could see that. He was really sweet and actually very concerned. He looked and searched for a way to fix it.  He gave me hugs and kisses.  It was so sweet.   I looked and looked for the head, but it was nowhere to be found. We eventually gave up the search. I knew the head had to be stuck behind the shelf and would show up eventually.
So for the next couple months my dancer sat headless on the shelf. Over that time it actually became kind of funny, and was a great conversation piece for people who visited.  When I would dust and came to that shelf it started to make me smile as I looked at my headless dancer. I would remember Gavin's little face, so full of concern that he broke something, and how he was devastated when we couldn't find the head.  It just became symbolic of my rambunctious, compassionate little boy.
A couple of days ago I was pulling out a book off a shelf and out popped the head!  I was surprised, and quite excited. Now she is waiting to get some superglue to hold her back together. However, I think I will miss my headless dancer. The simple experience reminded me that things are just things and they don't really matter. My greatest treasure and memories are the little boys right in front of me.

Recovery

I flew home late Tuesday night with the boys. Flying with children late at night is not recommended. Although I must say my trip was much better than expected. It was probably my easiest time going through security. The boys seemed to be in a trance the first half of the flight. All I have to say is thank goodness for portable DVD players. 

With twenty minutes left on our flight Gavin decided he wanted to sit on my lap. Griffin did not like him coming into his territory. A screaming and pushing fight started and lasted for a good five minutes. Trying to reason with two tired little boys at 10:45 at night is useless. I finally got them settled down, each balanced on a leg with their arms carefully placed so they wouldn't touch each other. I looked around to see quite a few people looking at me.  Their faces were mixed emotion. One man looked annoyed, everyone else had looks of compassion, helplessness, and I even sensed a little admiration from a mom of older boys. I met her eyes, and I gave a big sigh.  She smiled back and told me "You are doing amazing. I can't imagine flying alone with my boys when they were your kids age!" That little comment meant a lot to me. Thank you to the lady on the plane. It is always so comforting to have others understand and appreciate those horrible mom moments!

We survived and were so excited to see dad. Oh how we all missed him. You would think that getting home after midnight the boys would sleep in, but no. Griffin was wide awake at 7:30, which I guess is kind of sleeping in for him. Needless to say, we were all in a daze on Wednesday.  I couldn't even convince Gavin to go to the grocery store with me, which he usually loves. His reply was "I think I will stay here by myself. You can just take Griffin."

We did desperately need milk, the life sustaining substance of our household. This is what finally persuaded Gavin to venture outside. He requested that we walk in the stroller to the store.  So I obliged and headed to 7 Eleven. When I got there I spotted the slurpee machine. There was a summer in high school where my friends and I got a slurpee probably five times a week. We would even travel to different 7 Elevens to find the flavor we wanted. I am pretty sure I had not had one since then. So I treated my self. 

  

Now you would think my kids would be easy to put to nap after having such a short sleeping night. However that would be a wrong assumption. Griffin cried, and cried, and cried. For almost an hour. Gavin amazingly slept through it. I gave in and tried to lay down with him. That resulted in him poking my face and eyes, and playing peek-a-boo with the pillow. I don't understand it. He should have been so tired. I gave up. I don't do that very often with naps. They are my time, and my kids will take them. But that day I just couldn't do it. By evening Griffin was so tired he fell asleep eating dinner. And nothing could wake him up.     

One of my friends once said that "vacations with children are not vacations, but service projects for your kids." I laughed and laughed when I read it. How true it is. It is exhausting, and so much work to travel with kids, but you know what, it is worth it. When I look back at these times, I will hardly remember how tired I was, or all the difficult and stressful moments. I will remember the fun we had, the memories my children got to make with their relatives. I will remember the pure delight a game of bowling brought to their little eyes.  I will remember their laughs at the swimming pool. I will remember the little arms giving hugs to the grandparents they are lucky enough to know and love. And hopefully they will remember too. The exhaustion will fade and I will recover, but the memories we create will always remain.

A mother's pain

I returned back from my trip late last night. I have some great adventures from my trip to share with you, however I wanted share some different thoughts today.
On this day eighteen years ago, my twenty six year old brother died in a car accident. I was just eleven years old. I remember the night very clearly. It was just a regular night. I ate a home cooked dinner made by mom, played Sonic on the Sega, put on my Rainbow Bright pajamas, and headed to bed.  However the rest of the night was not ordinary. I woke up sometime after midnight to the phone ringing. My heart was racing, I was in a cold sweat, and breathing very fast. There were lights on in the hall and I could hear my parents rushing around and talking in hushed voices. I was confused at what was going on but just rolled over and went back to sleep.
A few hours later I  awoke once again. This time the sound that disturbed me I couldn't place, but it frightened me. I can honestly say it was the most terrifying moment of my life. My heart was racing once again. I knew something was desperately wrong. My mother came into my room and I realized the sound was coming from her. It was her cry. The cry of a mother in complete torment and sorrow. The unthinkable had happened. She wrapped her arms around me and between sobs uttered the words "Darren is dead."
I don't know how long we hugged for, but after a time she left my room. I laid back down and tried to convince myself that it was a dream. But I knew that that sound, that cry, could not be a dream. It was too raw, too real. After a few minutes, I headed out to the front room to where my family was gathering. I know at one point I curled up on my dad's lap and stayed there for much of the night. It was very comforting to have his strong hands wrapped around me.
I have thought about that cry often. I learned a lot about motherhood from that cry. No sound I have ever heard can rival it. It was pure pain. The pain only a mother could know. The pain only a mother who has given her life in service and love, for her child could comprehend. I believe a mother's love is the deepest on this earth and the closest thing to God's love there is. But with the greatest love brings the possibility of the greatest agony. And that night I heard what that agony sounds like.
On my recent visit home I chatted with my mother for a few minutes about my brother. She has never stopped missing him. She won't forget his smile, his voice, his humor, the way he stood, the sound of his laugh, or the shade of his eyes.  While eighteen years can erase a lot of my little girl memories of my brother, it hasn't touched hers. He is a part of her soul. He is a large piece of her heart, that has temporarily been removed.
Today, for the first time as a mother myself, I tried to imagine what my mother went through instead of remembering through my own eyes. I tried to imagine loosing one of my little boys. I couldn't even fathom the idea of not seeing their faces every day. I couldn't image the hugs and kisses ending. I couldn't imagine not waking up to their little voices. I couldn't imagine life without them.  I started to cry just thinking about it.  I don't know what I would do.  I spend 90% of my time taking care of them, feeding, playing, washing, dressing, diaper changing, reading, etc.  They are my life. I wouldn't have it any other way. And so although sometimes they make me want to pull my hair out when they won't go to bed, or eat any food, my heart breaks at the thought of all of that being gone. That amazing love I have for my boys is a gift that is so worth every frustrating, exhausting, and emotional moment. I pray that I will never have to experience the grief of loosing one of them. I pray for all the mothers who do.  Most of all today I pray thanks that there is a love that is so powerful to bring about such strong emotion. How grateful I am that I have the chance to be a mother. I hope I can more fully appreciate it.    

The cuddle

The other afternoon Griffin woke up before Gavin. He was still pretty out of it, so we just cuddled on the couch. It was the best ten minutes of my day. It is these little moments that make every challenge of being a mother so worth it. There is nothing like cuddling with your baby.

Fly Away

We are getting ready to head out to the airport. I am flying alone with the boys. Wish me luck!

Kindness of a stranger

Today I was very grateful for the kindness of a stranger.  We were playing at the park, having a blast, when Gavin stepped on something and started screaming at the top of his lungs.  I had seen a few bees around and immediately thought he had been stung.  We were at a huge park and had wandered far away from the playgrounds were we had left our shoes and sand toys.  I picked him up, loved him as best I could, and started heading back towards our stuff. Griffin decided he didn't want to walk and sat down on the ground and started yelling "up!" Gavin was still crying and wouldn't walk. I looked at our path and was wondering how in the world I was going to carry both of them that far. I looked at Griffin and said "Please get up, I can't carry you both!" A man sitting on a bench near by jumped up and came over to offer his assistance. I gratefully accepted. I didn't know how Griffin would react, but as the man picked him up, he just looked at him and said "hi!" The man carried Griffin all the way across the park for me. Gavin was so interested in who this stranger was, he stopped crying as we walked, and just looked at the man. The man told me how cute the boys were and to enjoy every minute because it goes by in the blink of an eye. I don't know his name, or what he does for a living.  I don't know how many children he has or if he has any grandchildren. But I do know he had a very kind heart. I do know that that small act of carrying my little boy was a huge help to me. I will always be thankful for that simple service.
I think sometimes when we watch the news and hear about the horrible things in this world it is easy to think that the good is gone. But the reality is that there is so much good all around us, and I think it is most evident in the small moments we serve each other. I think the good is especially brought out around young children. I have seen it so much more as a mother. I can't count how many times a stranger has helped me with my kids. So many times when I have been alone at airport security someone has stepped up to hold a baby, or put my stroller on the table for me. In March when I flew by myself with the boys, the plane was a little bumpy and Gavin was scared out of his mind, the lady sitting in our row held Griffin and let him play with her iPhone the entire flight. At the grocery store people play peek-a-boo with the boys when they are getting restless waiting in the line to check out. These may seem like simple things, but to me they are lifesavers. I am so grateful for all the kind hearts in the world. I hope I can more often recognize when someone needs a hand. I hope I can pay it forward and be someone else's kind stranger someday.  

Speed eating

When I first got married, my brother-in-law's wife and I were always the last two eating at family dinners. My husband and his brothers ate so fast, we didn't think they could possibly enjoy their food.  We would have 3/4 of our plate left when they were finished. We always teased them about it.
A few nights ago, my husband and I sat down to dinner.  I got the boys their food, dished up Jim and I's plates, and we "enjoyed" a nice family dinner together. Even with getting up to get something for the boys at least three times, I finished my plate well before Jim.  He looked over at my plate, and this time it was him commenting in amazement at the speed in which I had eaten. I looked over and realized I have become what I made fun of. Eating fast as a mom is pretty much the only way to survive sometimes.  Today I prepared both boys lunches, got them eating, then prepared mine, ate it, and unloaded the dishwasher before they were finished.  Meal time is precious time, because Griffin is in his high chair and can't get into trouble, and Gavin is preoccupied and doesn't need me to play with him. So I can honestly say I am the master speed eater. I hope one day I will be able to slow it down and enjoy a meal again. But for now I will take on anyone in a speed eating contest. I bet I could win.

Sweet moment

One morning while I was getting ready Gavin sat outside the bathroom and read a book he memorized to Griffin. I love these sweet moments.

Guest post

I wrote a guest post for my friend Emily's blog, A Precious Mess.  It is posted today. Go check it out!

Check me out

The other day I was stuck in rush hour traffic which was worse than usual because of an accident.  I am not sure what it is, but my boys can drive twelve hours straight on the freeway with hardly a peep, but 30 minutes in stop and go traffic is something they just can't handle.  Gavin was getting particularly restless and whiny.  I kept turning around to talk to him, grab his sippy cup, hand him his car, you get the point, when I look at the car next to me full of four attractive young men.  They were probably in their early twenties.  The two in the front seat were smiling in my direction.  One guy lifted a hand and waved while the other gave a nod, you know, the nod guys used in high school.  I looked behind me to see who they were looking at, and it finally dawned on me that it was me!  I didn't even acknowledge them as I absentmindedly reached up and touched my hair, and smiled because I realized I had styled my hair today, which doesn't always happen.  Then I looked down at my shirt and saw chocolate milk spots and a dried snot streak and I burst out laughing.  I am sure they thought I was checking them out with all my head turns to their direction.  If only they could have seen the whole picture I am sure there would have been no nodding.  So many times as a mom I feel completely unattractive.  Mornings are a precious time at our house and I often have to choose between doing my hair and make up, and something else more "important" while my boys are still mellow and content.  We are poor college students so my wardrobe often feels lacking.  It just seems like a rarity that I really feel put together. It is my dream to have someone submit my name to "What Not to Wear" so I can have a total makeover. So today it felt good to feel noticed.  Even if it was a misunderstanding, and there is a good possibility they were mocking me.  But I am going to choose to think they weren't, and that they were oblivious to the two car seats in the back because they were totally smitten with my beauty.

The Santa card

Yes you read the title right. I am talking about Santa Clause. In the middle of July. Gavin is obsessed.  Oh last Christmas was magical. The first time Gavin saw Santa, Mr. Claus was walking into a mall, ready to take his seat in the Christmas throne. Gavin was about to burst with delight.  Oh how he loves Santa with all his heart. For months after Christmas he talked about Santa, thought about Santa, and dreamed about Santa. It finally started to slow down a month or two ago, until now.
The other morning I had to get ready to go. My boys like lots of attention, and when my focus is on something else, cleaning, cooking, doing my hair, or anything other than them, Gavin tends to get wild and crazy, and unfortunately mean. He knows he will get attention if he hurts Griffin, or throws things. I am a little stuck on how to deal with this problem.  Anyway, back to my story.  Gavin was torturing his little brother, and there were a few tears and lots of screaming. When I approached him there was no apologetic frown, just a mischievously grinning little boy, ready and waiting to be chased.  No time outs, discussions on right and wrong choices, or toy distraction had worked, and I was in a hurry to finish getting things ready to go.  Out of desperation I said in a matter-of-fact voice, "Santa isn't going to bring you any presents if you aren't being nice!"   Gavin stopped right in his tracks.  The grin was instantly wiped off his face and desperation replaced it.  "I am going to be nice.  He will bring me presents!" was his heart broken reply. The discussion of right and wrong from earlier that didn't sink in, suddenly came out again, but this time it hit listening ears.  He would do anything for Santa, and to think Santa might be watching was almost more than he could bare. He quickly picked up the toys and didn't touch his brother again the whole morning. The effect lasted for a few days, and Santa was on the front of his mind at all times.
Now this wasn't my finest parenting moment, and I don't endorse threatening children, but in my mind it was better than me loosing my cool with my three year old.  Sometimes we don't have the time or resources to parent the "right way."  Desperate times call for desperate measures, and today I am grateful for Santa Claus.  I will keep the Santa card in my back pocket, and use it only in extreme circumstances.  I give you permission to do the same.

The workout gone bad

I find it so hard to fit in exercise as a mom of young kids. A group of ladies from my church meet at a local high school Monday mornings with all their kids and walk/run the track, so I was excited to start participating. The first few weeks I went were great.  I could power walk while pushing my non running stroller, talk with friends, and jog a few laps around the track.  It was great motivation, and working out is always better with friends.  The boys would be pretty content sitting in the stroller, snacking, playing angry birds, and just enjoying the ride.
One day the track coach was running the track and quickly informed us that strollers are not permitted on the track.  Apparently they ruin it. Oops, we didn't know that.  So I got my boys out and thought we would all take a walk.  We made it to the first turn when Griffin sat down and started yelling at his new shoes that have shoe laces.  For some reason he hates them and thinks that when they flop around they are "breaked." I finally convinced him they were not broken and around the turn we went.  We hit the straight and Gavin informed me that he had to use the bathroom really bad and he was going to pee in his underwear.  So we cut across the field to find the bathrooms in the basketball court.  The accident was avoided and back we went to the track.
 Instead of following me on the walk, both boys headed straight for the bleachers.  Here I paused with an internal debate.  Do I let them play while I run?  There are lots of older kids around and they are having fun climbing. All the other mom's just let their kids run free. I'll be able to see them from anywhere on the track right? Griffin's old enough right?  I see another mom feeding a baby and ding!  I bet she would keep an eye on them while I make one lap.  I didn't even reach her before both my boys were yelling at me "come back Mom!  Don't leave. Stay here!"  They were seriously angry and I hadn't even taken five steps away from them.  So I went to talk to Gavin and let him know he could climb and run and have fun with all the other kids while I jogged and that I would be right back. I told him he could even watch me and cheer me on! That conversation was met with more anger and concern to the point that tears were welling up in his eyes.
At this point I let out an exasperated sigh and sat down to watch the boys play on the bleachers.  My eyes wondered to the scene around me.  There were at least eight other moms walking the track.  Most had gone around at least five times since we arrived and I had only done a very slow half lap.  Their kids were chasing each other, laughing, doing jumping jacks, practicing their long jumps, climbing on the bleachers, and playing perfectly fine without their mothers right by their side.  They weren't looking for mom, or crying at her distance.  They didn't seem to even be aware of the distance. It is then that my mind said what is wrong with my kids? Why can't they be normal and want to run away and play on their own?  Don't they want to explore the world around them? Have I unintentionally trained them to be attached to my hip?  I don't have an answer for any of it.
It was then that Gavin proclaimed that he had to pee again.  Really? It had only been five minutes, and the bathrooms were not close.  He won the war and back we headed to the bathrooms.  As we walked to the bathrooms I lectured Gavin on getting all his pee pee out at one time so we don't have to keep going back to the bathroom. I don't think any of it sunk in.
As we washed our hands and stepped back outside, all my motivation to work out was completely gone.  I was grumpy and sulking I decide to give up and head home. Griffin wouldn't walk with his "broken" shoes, so I had to carry him to go get the stroller. But as we walked out his cute little hands kept grabbing my face and his big cheesy grin kept yelling "kiss!"  His puckering lips sure know how to plant them on me.  After about ten kisses my grumpiness was completely melted.  I looked at his cute little face and realize that although having overly attached children can be exhausting, there is nothing in the world like being adored and loved by a child. And I am lucky enough to have two little boys that really do love me.


We arrived home and Gavin headed to the bathroom once again. But this time I chose to turn my annoyance to gratitude that he is finally potty trained.  In that moment I reminded myself that my attitude is a choice. If you look for the good, it is always there. I may not have had a good workout, but we did have chocolate chip cookies waiting for us, and those were better than any workout.

Loving every moment

Five years ago I was a newlywed living in Baltimore, Maryland. I was soaking in being married, and busy dreaming and planning for our future. I met a dear friend who I instantly adored. Kristi was the sweetest person I have ever met.  She had an adorable little two year old girl. I watched them interact together and thought Kristi was the perfect mom.  I remember a conversation we had about motherhood where Kristi told me she had loved every minute of being a mother.  I could see the love just radiated out of her and I knew she meant it.  I remember this day so clearly because I decided that that is the kind of mother I wanted to be.  I wanted to enjoy it, and not get stressed and uptight.  I wanted to love every minute I had with my kids.  I wanted them to be my primary focus.  I wanted to never raise my voice and discipline with kindness. I knew that tough times would come, but I wanted to never complain about my children to others.
Today as I was walking home I thought about that day, as I have many other times. Needless to say, I have not lived up to my original desires.  I have complained, raised my voice, and sometimes lost focus. But during my first two years of motherhood I can honestly say I enjoyed every moment.  Even when Gavin was a horrible sleeper, I wasn't angry or frustrated with him, I just had compassion.  I knew things were hard for him and I wanted to do all I could to help.  Through many ear infection I cuddled that little boy all through the night.  When he had H1N1 flu as a tiny guy, I loved him even more as he was vomiting and so sick. My heart was overwhelmed with compassion. While I didn't enjoy the sickness, I was so grateful that I could be his mother to help him through being so sick.  I lived to be a mom to my sweet little boy.

Griffin came a long, and he was the sweetest, most perfect baby you could ever imagine. But as Gavin grew older he grew more demanding.  He still slept worse than his newborn baby brother, and the lack of sleep started to take it's tole. I started to let homesickness enter. I missed my family and my in-laws and dreamed about being back in Utah where I could have a little help and support.  My husband was gone a lot of late nights for graduate school, and so much of the time, I felt like a single mom.  I saw dear friends move away and I was so jealous of their moving on in life.  I let loneliness replace some of my contentment in motherhood.  Some days I stopped living, and started just surviving.  I bid my time just making it through the day, or week, to the weekend where I knew I would have some adult time. I craved adult interaction and went through the day numbly, not relishing my time with my sweet baby boys. I didn't react to their mistakes with patience and love, but was quick to be annoyed. 

 It didn't take me long to realize I was not happy with how I was living my life.  That is not how I had pictured motherhood.  I loved my boys more than anything, but my heart was not always in it. I kept wishing for the future, instead of enjoying the present. I prayed for help, and realized I had the power to change.  I decided I needed to start living and not just surviving.  I chose to wake up with a purpose.  I switched my focus from pitying my own struggles to finding fun things to experience with my boys.  I tried to find simple ways to serve my husband, to help him through his tough times and let him know I loved him instead of focusing on my sorry lot of missing him all the time.  I joined a book club and loved reading the books and getting together with the ladies once a month.  Oh how a good book can revive one's soul and transplant you to a different world for a while!  I encouraged a group of girls in my church to get a weekly playgroup going again.  I realized that I needed those friendships and interaction for myself so I could be the best mom I could be. And it benefited my sweet little boys to have that interaction with the other children.  When I made the effort, I started to thrive in my roll as a mother, and find great joy in it once again.    
 I learned a great lesson through this experience.  Life is what we make of it.  We can not wait for others to swoop in and save us from our loneliness, or whatever the trial may be.  We have the choice to become what we want to become.  It is up to us to live our lives and find the joy in the journey.  It is up to us to love every moment we are given.  I am definitely not perfect in this goal, so I decided to use this blog to help me find the beauty and joy all around me, and to help me remember to live and love every single moment. When you look for it, there are blessings and joy all around us. Life is precious and can change in the blink of an eye.  I don't want to waist one moment.           

All about me

Hi I am Kathie.

 I am the mother of two little boys, and hopefully more children to come.  I used to say I wanted eight kids when I was a little girl. Can you even imagine?  I always dreamed of being a mom, and now that that dream is a reality I am trying my best to fully enjoy every moment.  I choose to be a stay at home mom and am grateful my husband supports me in that decision.  I am married to a wonderful hard working PhD student, and I know he will go great places in life.  I am excited I get to tag along.


I graduated with my Bachelors in child development, and I use my degree every day.  When the kids grow up I would love go to work as a child life specialist. I grew up dancing, and while I haven't done it in years, I feel like it is still a part of my soul.  I think fresh pineapple is better than candy.  I craved chocolate milk all through my pregnancies, and have passed that love on to my boys.  I don't like to cook, but really wish that I did.  I can't go to bed if the dishwasher hasn't been started. Speaking of bed, there are few things I love more than a good nights sleep. I believe family is the greatest gift we have been given.  I hope to use this blog to remind myself just how great my calling of a mother is.

Thanks for stopping by,

Kathie