When contemplating a second child, I never really thought about what we would do when we had one of those sleep with a baby on your chest in a recliner for three nights illnesses. When I found out that our second child had an inner-womb roommate, I couldn't let myself even consider the idea of anyone ever having time to get that sick. It happens, however, more frequently than I ever even thought possible. I usually get calls from my sitters at work between 1:30 and 2:10, which is 6th period (or block, if that's what your school system calls it) due to the fact that if one of my children is sick, they usually have their worst meltdown around the afternoon nap time. One of my students made a very innocent comment last time I received such a call that my children "sure do get sick a lot". I wasn't bothered since I am pretty hard to offend, especially since I was thinking the same thing. Usually, it's nothing big, but there are those times when someone is especially ill. That my friends is when I truly feel connected to my husband. I often look back on those times and realize that we work so great as a team, even when sleep and communication are lacking. This past week is one of those times.
Tank developed croup on Sunday evening. He feel asleep early, and he woke up two hours later very ill. We are no strangers to croup. Princess suffered from croup four times a year for three years of her little life, and she is still prone to it even now. When she had bouts of croup, Dean and I worked as a team and traded her back and forth using every doctor and grandma recommended treatment there was. With Tank, however, we didn't have the luxury of switching. We did figure it out, though. It went something like this....
Night one--I took Tank into my room in his bouncy seat (hoping that being in a propped up position would help). Dean took Princess into her room and laid down with her with the intention of staying most of the night so that I could put the bouncy seat on the bed. (At least that way, if I got too tired, he would have had some sleep.) Tank went to sleep two hours later than usual, and slept for an hour and 15 minutes. He then woke up and screamed so loud that he woke Tinker Belle up (whose mini crib is still in our room). Once she went back to sleep, I took Tank into the living room at the other end of the house and had Dean go into our room to tend to Tinker Belle (who still wakes up for two bottles no matter how hard I try to train her to sleep through). At some point, he ended up taking Princess in our room as well since she woke up crying from a bad dream. Tinker Belle drank every bottle I had prepared for that night. Tank rolled around on me and cried for the next several hours. Once I got to the point of exhaustion that makes you cry for no reason, I switched places with Dean. He kept the three kids until I woke up and we switched off again for him to go take care of the farm business for the day. Thankfully, we were off for President's Day, so the massive lack of sleep wasn't too bad. I ended up taking him to our general dr. that day and getting some antibiotics for him (for bronchitis).
The next few days went about the same with complicated nighttime switch offs. We also sort of took turns missing work. Tinker ended up getting sick as well, so I went to the doctor with Tank again on Wed. receiving medicine for the croup, and took Tinker on Thursday at the first sign of illness. To say the least, life has been crazy for a while, but you know what? We survived, and while we had tons and tons of help, I honestly feel like we took care of the three of them pretty well together.
Thank you God for letting us survive the times that seem so hard when we go through them but so small in hind sight. Thank you for blessing me with children and trusting me with their care. I praise you for healthy babies and a wonderful husband!!
P.S. Dean and I are both feeling sick now.....
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
The art of romance
I hope the title of the post didn't mislead you into thinking that I have the secret to the art of romance. Rather, I just have some thoughts about how romance within a relationship changes after each child is born into a family. I'm so glad that Dean and I were together for several years before having our children. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I think it would have been easier to have had children younger, when I had more energy, but overall I think those formative years helped us establish a bond that can't be broken. We had time to go out on dates and establish our young selves for three years before getting married, then we had another three to establish ourselves as a married couple coexisting before bringing Princess into the mix. Lastly, we had three years to establish ourselves as a family unit before adding in the twins. Now, we didn't work it out that way, God did. We didn't always want to wait so long, and sometimes, things happened more quickly than expected. That timing, however, did help us establish our version of romance along the way.
If there is one thing we are not, it's romantic. We try; it's just not natural. I think it is because we are just too practical. We are more into real love. The kind of love that spills an entire glass of tea on her lap on the first date, or the kind of love that makes a man an hour late on Valentine's Day when he decides at the last minute to go pick up flowers and doesn't realize what a madhouse the store will be. We just can't make that "perfect date' happen. We've given up a long time ago. Our first Valentine's Day together, we decided not to buy gifts, but to make them. I made this cheesy picture thing in computer class at school (I was still in high school when we met), and Dean put those art classes to use by drawing a picture of me. Well, he started it anyway, and to this day, it is unfinished. He says he just can't do me justice, which means he doesn't like it and refuses to start over or settle for what it is. I tried to make spaghetti and meatballs for our dinner and burnt the meatballs. Oh well, it is what it is.
To be honest, there are times that it bothers each of us that we aren't more romantic, but overall I love the fact that we are not hung up on the idea of being romantic. We began our relationship, and I mean literally on the first date, deciding that we would be real. We agreed that in most relationships, it takes about 6 months for the "real" you to show up, and that before that, you're putting your best face forward so to speak. We didn't want that. We were both a little jaded about love, and decided that if we couldn't be honest and still like each other, we weren't going to last eventually anyway. We didn't want to waste our time in such a case. Luckily, God helped us through and we knew we were with the best person for us. The rest is history I suppose. I'm not saying we have a perfect relationship, and I wouldn't want that anyway. If you try to hang on to those moments of perfection, the pressure is too much and you can't enjoy it.
Fast forward ten years. February 14, 2012 makes the 11th Valentine's Day we are together. We decided to celebrate last night. It wasn't romantic. I cooked T-bone steaks and cheese potatoes and we ate at the table with full lighting so that we could feed the kids at the same time. We didn't do gifts, at least I hope not, since I haven't bought a single thing for Dean. Actually, I know we didn't, because he's not really good at surprising me and we just paid for a necessary bathroom renovation that makes that kind of unnecessary spending ridiculous right now. We celebrated early, because all three kids have a doctor's appointment today, and who knows what they'll be like later. We'll probably stop and get Princess a little box of chocolates, and remind her that loving and being loved by God is the most important thing in life. The twins will probably cry all evening because of getting their second flu shots, and you know what? It's okay. It's okay that our day isn't super romantic, and it's okay that we didn't spend any money on each other, and it's okay today wasn't a big event. We'll be together. For better, for worse, and no matter what. That, my friend, is what love is to me. If you're the kind of person who needs butterflies and shaky knees, I hope you get it. But do yourself a favor and look for the real acts of love. A man who will clean up the kitchen so you don't have to, or a man who will take half of a day off work so that he can spend Valentine's Day with you in the doctor's office.
Here's my love prayer for all of us ladies including the married, the single, the mommies, and thechildless. "Dear God. Help us to remember what true love is. Help us to remember that Your love is all we need. Help us to love those around us as we should. Help us to feel loved by You at all times. We love You, we love You, we love You."
If there is one thing we are not, it's romantic. We try; it's just not natural. I think it is because we are just too practical. We are more into real love. The kind of love that spills an entire glass of tea on her lap on the first date, or the kind of love that makes a man an hour late on Valentine's Day when he decides at the last minute to go pick up flowers and doesn't realize what a madhouse the store will be. We just can't make that "perfect date' happen. We've given up a long time ago. Our first Valentine's Day together, we decided not to buy gifts, but to make them. I made this cheesy picture thing in computer class at school (I was still in high school when we met), and Dean put those art classes to use by drawing a picture of me. Well, he started it anyway, and to this day, it is unfinished. He says he just can't do me justice, which means he doesn't like it and refuses to start over or settle for what it is. I tried to make spaghetti and meatballs for our dinner and burnt the meatballs. Oh well, it is what it is.
To be honest, there are times that it bothers each of us that we aren't more romantic, but overall I love the fact that we are not hung up on the idea of being romantic. We began our relationship, and I mean literally on the first date, deciding that we would be real. We agreed that in most relationships, it takes about 6 months for the "real" you to show up, and that before that, you're putting your best face forward so to speak. We didn't want that. We were both a little jaded about love, and decided that if we couldn't be honest and still like each other, we weren't going to last eventually anyway. We didn't want to waste our time in such a case. Luckily, God helped us through and we knew we were with the best person for us. The rest is history I suppose. I'm not saying we have a perfect relationship, and I wouldn't want that anyway. If you try to hang on to those moments of perfection, the pressure is too much and you can't enjoy it.
Fast forward ten years. February 14, 2012 makes the 11th Valentine's Day we are together. We decided to celebrate last night. It wasn't romantic. I cooked T-bone steaks and cheese potatoes and we ate at the table with full lighting so that we could feed the kids at the same time. We didn't do gifts, at least I hope not, since I haven't bought a single thing for Dean. Actually, I know we didn't, because he's not really good at surprising me and we just paid for a necessary bathroom renovation that makes that kind of unnecessary spending ridiculous right now. We celebrated early, because all three kids have a doctor's appointment today, and who knows what they'll be like later. We'll probably stop and get Princess a little box of chocolates, and remind her that loving and being loved by God is the most important thing in life. The twins will probably cry all evening because of getting their second flu shots, and you know what? It's okay. It's okay that our day isn't super romantic, and it's okay that we didn't spend any money on each other, and it's okay today wasn't a big event. We'll be together. For better, for worse, and no matter what. That, my friend, is what love is to me. If you're the kind of person who needs butterflies and shaky knees, I hope you get it. But do yourself a favor and look for the real acts of love. A man who will clean up the kitchen so you don't have to, or a man who will take half of a day off work so that he can spend Valentine's Day with you in the doctor's office.
Here's my love prayer for all of us ladies including the married, the single, the mommies, and thechildless. "Dear God. Help us to remember what true love is. Help us to remember that Your love is all we need. Help us to love those around us as we should. Help us to feel loved by You at all times. We love You, we love You, we love You."
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
capere momentum
My friend SFields read an article to me the other day written by a mother of young children about the old saying "Carpe Diem", seize the day. The lady talks of how older women come up to her and tell her about how they enjoyed every moment of raising their children and how it goes by too fast. SFields, Joy Mac, and I all talked about how we love the idea of seizing the day, every moment of our lives, but admitted that we could relate to the article. In the end, the lady says that she instead has learned to appreciate those moments of God filled time in her life, such as when she looks at her child and actually sees her for the first time all day. I have been thinking about this a great deal ever since, and I have decided to do something about my mindset.
My blog has the word "chaos" in it for a reason: I feel that my life is constantly chaotic. It's not that I dislike my life or that I just relish in the chaos that surrounds me. Instead, I have just accepted that my life, as well as anyone's I assume, has a pretty heavy load of chaos. The chaos only bothers me in the moment. I can move beyond it when the chaos subsides. For instance, sometimes I want to pull my hair out when all three of my kids are screaming for my attention, none of them wants me to hold another person besides them, I need to begin dinner (because they will need to eat eventually and will probably decide to do so suddenly), I am in urgent need of emptying my bladder, and the phone is ringing. However, when I buckle my mind down, put my children somewhere where they are safe, pee (sometimes with an audience), begin dinner, and grab the phone to call back whomever it was I missed, I immediately feel better. The chaos has passed. Now, while these instances are often funny to account later, (I'm not putting the truly funny stuff in here because even I have a little shame) they are truly hard at the moment and I find myself at the end of the day saying, "At what point did I enjoy my children?" My heart is sometimes broken. I get so caught up the survival of the day that very few enjoyable moments can be remembered. Those moments are there of course, and if I truly try, I can think of them, but still. What is more upsetting to me is the idea that I am portraying life as something you simply survive to my children, particularly Princess who is old enough to be effected by my attitude. I cry out to God to forgive me. I do not want her or the twins to look back at their childhood and see only that we all survived it. I love my family so much that it hurts. I would die for them, I cherish them, I even like them! Why then, does it sometimes feel like an entire day, week, or month, was just part of some survival training?
I've decided that what I must do is stop living like some crazy woman on a reality show about making it through life. Granted, I can't will my children to be less demanding, needy, or even care for themselves in a way that is not possible for them at this age. There will still be chaos. What I hope to also provide though, is JOY. Why can't the two reside together? Who says that chaos has to keep us in a constant ulcered state? Yes, our life together is crazy. Shoot, mommy is a little crazy too, but who says we can't love life even when it is crazy? I've already begun the process of reconditioning my beliefs that everytime my family steps out of the door we have to be magazine picture perfect in both looks and attitude, so I'm one step in the right direction. Now, I have to begin to reflect the attitude of joy on to my children. I have to show them with actions as well as words that life is an awesome gift from God, and we should be thankful for that gift.
So ladies, let's do this together. Let's capere momentum (seize the moment)! Let's look around when things are good and say, "Thank you God for happy children!" or "Thank you God for healthy children!" Let's look around when things are rough and say, "Thank you God for three kids with extraordinarily strong lungs!" (Two of mine are testing my commitment as we speak!) Or, "Thank you God for so many clothes to wash, because that means we are all well dressed!" It's not going to be easy, but peace is in our hearts, not our surroundings. Remember the scripture from a former post? I will "seek peace and pursue it." (Psalms 34:14) I will seek it in my heart, not my car, living room, or even at the dinner table; it's surely NOT going to be there. We can't relish in every moment of motherhood, or even life for that matter. However, we can appreciate the special moments, like when Tinker Belle looks at me so sweetly as she drifts off to sleep, or when Tank smiles his famous smile at me, or when Princess puckers her little lips up for a kiss and tells me I'm so cute. I think I can seize those moments and hold them in my heart.
In my mind, it's kind of like when you take your kids to the photographer. You leave thinking that in the mist of all of the crying, fussing, and chaos, there is no way the poor photographer got a decent picture. However, when you get the proofs back, they are gorgeous. Life is that way. Even when it seems that there is no way your day had a redeemable moment, there are so many you can call to mind that it is truly awesome. We are so blessed by a Father who cherishes his special moments with us!
Here's my prayer for all of us wallowing in chaos but trying to appreciate life: "Dear Father, thank you so much for giving us such full lives. We know there are those out there who are lonely and would love to have a house full of children to love. We know that while it's not always easy to be a mom, it is so blessed. We know that as Your children, you want us to be happy and have joy. We also know that life is hard, but You are great. Help us to enjoy life. Help us to hold tight to the sweet memories of our precious children and husbands. Lord, while sometimes all we can hope to do is survive a moment in life, we sincerely want to enjoy life, not just survive. We praise You. Amen."
My blog has the word "chaos" in it for a reason: I feel that my life is constantly chaotic. It's not that I dislike my life or that I just relish in the chaos that surrounds me. Instead, I have just accepted that my life, as well as anyone's I assume, has a pretty heavy load of chaos. The chaos only bothers me in the moment. I can move beyond it when the chaos subsides. For instance, sometimes I want to pull my hair out when all three of my kids are screaming for my attention, none of them wants me to hold another person besides them, I need to begin dinner (because they will need to eat eventually and will probably decide to do so suddenly), I am in urgent need of emptying my bladder, and the phone is ringing. However, when I buckle my mind down, put my children somewhere where they are safe, pee (sometimes with an audience), begin dinner, and grab the phone to call back whomever it was I missed, I immediately feel better. The chaos has passed. Now, while these instances are often funny to account later, (I'm not putting the truly funny stuff in here because even I have a little shame) they are truly hard at the moment and I find myself at the end of the day saying, "At what point did I enjoy my children?" My heart is sometimes broken. I get so caught up the survival of the day that very few enjoyable moments can be remembered. Those moments are there of course, and if I truly try, I can think of them, but still. What is more upsetting to me is the idea that I am portraying life as something you simply survive to my children, particularly Princess who is old enough to be effected by my attitude. I cry out to God to forgive me. I do not want her or the twins to look back at their childhood and see only that we all survived it. I love my family so much that it hurts. I would die for them, I cherish them, I even like them! Why then, does it sometimes feel like an entire day, week, or month, was just part of some survival training?
I've decided that what I must do is stop living like some crazy woman on a reality show about making it through life. Granted, I can't will my children to be less demanding, needy, or even care for themselves in a way that is not possible for them at this age. There will still be chaos. What I hope to also provide though, is JOY. Why can't the two reside together? Who says that chaos has to keep us in a constant ulcered state? Yes, our life together is crazy. Shoot, mommy is a little crazy too, but who says we can't love life even when it is crazy? I've already begun the process of reconditioning my beliefs that everytime my family steps out of the door we have to be magazine picture perfect in both looks and attitude, so I'm one step in the right direction. Now, I have to begin to reflect the attitude of joy on to my children. I have to show them with actions as well as words that life is an awesome gift from God, and we should be thankful for that gift.
So ladies, let's do this together. Let's capere momentum (seize the moment)! Let's look around when things are good and say, "Thank you God for happy children!" or "Thank you God for healthy children!" Let's look around when things are rough and say, "Thank you God for three kids with extraordinarily strong lungs!" (Two of mine are testing my commitment as we speak!) Or, "Thank you God for so many clothes to wash, because that means we are all well dressed!" It's not going to be easy, but peace is in our hearts, not our surroundings. Remember the scripture from a former post? I will "seek peace and pursue it." (Psalms 34:14) I will seek it in my heart, not my car, living room, or even at the dinner table; it's surely NOT going to be there. We can't relish in every moment of motherhood, or even life for that matter. However, we can appreciate the special moments, like when Tinker Belle looks at me so sweetly as she drifts off to sleep, or when Tank smiles his famous smile at me, or when Princess puckers her little lips up for a kiss and tells me I'm so cute. I think I can seize those moments and hold them in my heart.
In my mind, it's kind of like when you take your kids to the photographer. You leave thinking that in the mist of all of the crying, fussing, and chaos, there is no way the poor photographer got a decent picture. However, when you get the proofs back, they are gorgeous. Life is that way. Even when it seems that there is no way your day had a redeemable moment, there are so many you can call to mind that it is truly awesome. We are so blessed by a Father who cherishes his special moments with us!
Here's my prayer for all of us wallowing in chaos but trying to appreciate life: "Dear Father, thank you so much for giving us such full lives. We know there are those out there who are lonely and would love to have a house full of children to love. We know that while it's not always easy to be a mom, it is so blessed. We know that as Your children, you want us to be happy and have joy. We also know that life is hard, but You are great. Help us to enjoy life. Help us to hold tight to the sweet memories of our precious children and husbands. Lord, while sometimes all we can hope to do is survive a moment in life, we sincerely want to enjoy life, not just survive. We praise You. Amen."
Monday, February 6, 2012
Tank’s Talk
I love my children all equally. However, when I think of them individually, I can appreciate the things about each child that makes him/her different. Tank, my only boy, is definitely a different experience. My husband has been longing for a boy since we decided to have children, and I’m always amazed at the fact that there is no partiality towards him from my husband. He actually tends to coddle the girls more. Princess is his playmate, and Tinker Belle is so tiny that she receives a lot of attention from everyone. To me though, there is something so special about Tank that seems to be overlooked by the average person. One thing others do notice though is that he’s strong. As humans, we are naturally drawn to those who need our protection most. Tank, who was 19 pds at only 6 months, is obviously strong and has a big presence. He didn’t have the physical issues that Tinker Belle did/does, and honestly, at only 7 months, he looks like he could stand up and run across the floor. As his mother though, it’s so apparent to me that the advantage he has with size and strength is matched with a disadvantage in emotional immaturity. In short, he needs my love, hugs, and snuggles more than the girls. I actually haven’t been able to type his post because he has been sick, and therefore demanding; in fact, he’s working his way towards me now on the carpet.
I sometimes get frustrated that he demands so much attention when there are things that I really need to do. I mean, it’s not easy to cook spaghetti with a 20 pound baby on your hip, and typing an entire blog post with one hand is not all that efficient. However, there’s a reason that deep down I don’t mind. If I’m being honest, as I’ve promised to do, I know he’s only mine for a little while. Pretty soon, he will be idolizing my husband and chasing behind him wanting to do only “what daddy does”. I say this with no remorse or resentment. I actually want that. I think Tank has a wonderful father, and it will mean so much to Dean to have a little protégé. I am simply acknowledging the truth, and maybe trying to prepare myself for playing second fiddle so to speak. Dean has tried his best to train Princess to be a little farm girl, but her interest wanes. Sometimes she loves it, sometimes she doesn’t. She loves her daddy in a very special way, but there’s a connection, or understanding, or something that she and I share that can’t be duplicated. As much as we may fuss and disagree, she’s mine forever. I’ll never lose her or have to share her. Tank, however, looks at his daddy in a way that lets me know he feels just that way about Dean. He will want to be just like him, which, as far as I’m concerned, is that way it should be. I think a son’s immediately love for his father and his desire to please him is a beautiful metaphor for how we should be towards our heavenly Father. Tank is fortunate enough to have a daddy who loves God and will lead him in the path of righteousness.
Tank has the sweetest little personality. He is always smiling; sometimes he is smiling even when he is crying. It’s adorable. It’s as if he wants to be happy, even though he is devastated. I hope he never loses his sincerity of emotions. Whatever he feels, you know about. He is tough as nails. He can roll over and hit his head on the floor and not even flinch. With Princess around, this is a good trait. While she tends to be as gentle as she knows how, the fact that Tank isn’t much smaller than her makes her less worried about being careful around him. In addition, he has this wonderful ability to look at you when you pick him up and express to you that “YOU”RE MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD!! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU!” Then, when you pass him to someone else, he looks at that person as if to say “YOU’RE MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU!” Even though you know he portrays that same feeling to everyone, you don’t mind because you know he means it. Watch out ladies, he’s going to break some hearts!
Speaking of which, I also realize that when he gets married in the future, I will feel a greater since of loss than when my girls do so. I used to think it was ridiculous when people would quote that old saying, “A daughter is a daughter her whole life, but a son’s a son until he takes a wife.” I understand it a little better now. In truth, my girls will always be my girls, even when they are married with children of their own. Trust me, if ANYONE else made some of the suggestions to me that my own mother makes, I would be arrested for assault, but my mom can say it without even offending me (usually). Also, she’s someone who I still depend on hopelessly. My brother, however, does not. He has, however, maintained that relationship with my dad. He had to let some of the dependence he had on my mother go when he married. It’s natural and necessary for his marriage. I had to do the same with my dad. He could no longer be the solver of my problems or fixer of my car. I had to let Dean take care of me. In turn, Dean had to “leave his father and mother, and… cling to his wife” (Mark 10:7). I don’t look forward to this occurrence, but I don’t dread it like I expected either. Instead, I’ve chosen to relish in the love he has for me now and enjoy that out of all the females in his life, he loves me most. (He is currently proving this fact by standing in his exersaucer screaming for me at this very moment.) Granted, he’s not even one, so my dread may grow with his age. I often wonder if moms with only boys or dads with only girls feel this way, or if it is heightened by the luxury of comparison. It does help me understand my husband’s massive overprotection of his girls though.
Tank will probably always be my happy little good time guy. I’m hoping his sweet disposition has as much of an effect on the rest of the world as it has had on our family and friends. You just can’t look into his chubby little face without smiling back at him. It’s a true gift to bring joy to others so naturally. This is my prayer for Tank when I put him in the nursery at night:
“God, please bless my baby. Keep him safe and healthy. Make him strong in his faith in You. Help him grow up to be a strong man of God, no one knows better than you how much this world needs them. Help him to know that his relationship with You is the most important thing in his life. Help me to be the mother You would have me be to him. Help me to guide and train him in Your ways.”
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