From Where You Are | NaBloPoMo day 22

No words really tonight. Our family is mourning the loss of our Uncle Don. May he rest in peace.

Until,
D

Crazy For You

When I stare at the screen for a long time before starting a blog post, it is usually because I either have nothing to say or I have so much to say that actually putting it into words seems like the hardest thing in the world. And right now, I am in the second position - with too many thoughts going through my head and all of them making sense in their own way, but no one stepping up to organize them in some readable form. So I will try to get them all out - forgive me if it makes no sense.

I am sad today. Try as I might, I just can't muster up a happy exterior for some reason.  I am not writing this for sympathy or anything like that - just for the sheer fact that I really just want to say it out loud (relatively speaking) and get it out. I know I tend to complain a lot.  Most of the time it is just to let out the built up steam and help me to chill out a little. But in that release I try to gloss it over with humor or some sort of false cheerfulness, just to make myself feel less pathetic.

But today, I am just tired of glossing. And today I want to let it out. I debated on whether I should just put this on my other blog, the one no one reads, but it's just not as cathartic to spew your guts to no one. So, if you don't want to read about my sadness, come back later. The gloss will be back soon.

Sometimes all the little things just get me down. They overwhelm.  I stuff them down and distract myself to the point of not even paying attention to much of my life because it is just easier to be in denial than to deal with things. And I know that my life is good. I know that I am blessed beyond measure.  Let me just get that out of the way before people start wagging their fingers at me. I know that it could be much worse. Let me just have a moment to vent and purge then I will go back to counting my blessings. ok?

Sometimes I just feel sad. And really, there is no one reason for it; no one real thing that makes it particularly worse on some days and better on others. Sometimes, I am just overwhelmed and depressed. It happens. I get over it, eventually. Sometimes I need to talk about it, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I think I do but I don't want to burden anyone with my baggage so I don't. And sometimes I, and I think everyone, just needs a good cry. And no, I am not hormonal right now.

The weather today isn't helping. The gloomy, rainy skies and gray, gray, gray everywhere just drags me down. I could not live somewhere that was like this all the time. I used to love the rain.  I used to love a good storm and I used to love starry skies and breezy nights.  When we lived in Arizona, one of the things I missed the most about Texas were the rain storms. I missed hearing the rain on the roof of the Camp (my parent's camp house I mentioned last week), I missed the thunder and the lightening, the rippling of the water with each drop, I missed the drama of it all. I loved the energy and the emotion that a good rain storm would bring. I loved the smell of the air and the wet ground afterward. When we moved back to Texas, we relished all the things that made up storms and we were glad to be back among them.

But then the kids came along and somehow the wonder and the fun of a good storm was taken away from me. Now I curse the storms that come at night, threatening to wake my children from peaceful slumber. I grit my teeth and tense my shoulders when I know I have to pick up or drop off the boy from school when it is raining. I don't like the mud the dog drags into the house after a storm floods our yard. My joints ache and my head feels full when the humidity reaches a peak before a storm. And the worst, I don't like how the storms change my mood.

And so today I am overwhelmed with life and problems and all that has been heaped upon my tiny plate, and I just want to run away. I want to find that place again where I could sit and listen to a storm with delight; where I could lie on top of the car in the driveway and watch the stars, where I could dream big, romantic dreams and not have to be responsible and practical and think about people other than myself. I miss the days of being able to make a choice and it only affect me, not everyone around me too. Perhaps I am just feeling selfish, perhaps I am longing for a freedom that a responsible person with a family doesn't have the luxury to afford. Perhaps I am just looking for an escape. Perhaps, I just miss the way things used to be.

I wouldn't give up my life and my family for anything. But I do sometimes long for things to be less complicated. I long for healed relationships, I long for closure, I long for things that should have been said. I wish I knew why things happen the way they do; why people come and go, what the purpose of it all is. I wish God would grant me that wisdom so I can understand and heal. So many people, new and old, have moved in and out of my life in the past few years, and I wish I could just sit back and take it all in with the same kind of understanding that one only gains long after the time has passed. I want to know now why things are the way they are so that I can appreciate them for what they are instead of constantly questioning everything. I want to see God's beautiful and perfect plan. I want to understand.

And I want to forget. I want to forget the bad storms and the sad times. I want to replace them with the good memories - they seem to be so much weaker than the bad ones in my head. I want to not worry about everything all the time. I want to just live my life, happy, content, and not constantly looking over my shoulder for the next thing that is going to fall in my lap. I want to just be and enjoy.

The rain has stopped. The sun is peeking out from the clouds and the birds are singing. My heart is racing and for the umpteenth time today I am experiencing a rush of adrenalin. Why? What is going on that I don't know about? What am I sensing in some subconscious form that makes my ears burn and my heart race? And why is it happening so often right now? I wonder if I am sick or if I am just connected to something beyond my own understanding.

Ok. I will put the crazy back into the box now. The men in black coats with the mind erasers will be at your door shortly. ;) But, if you have ever felt this way too, I would love for you to share that with me in the comments. While I am not looking for someone to make me feel better, it would be nice to know that someone understands and feels the same sometimes.

Until,
D :)

Collide

I was adding a few things to my Amazon wish list this morning (it is Cyber Monday afterall!) and I decided to fill out the little info box on a few of the items, just to help people who might be shopping for me this Christmas.  Most of the stuff on my list is strictly for ideas - not necessarily the exact items I want should someone be so inclined to make a purchase.

Anyway, a couple of the things were pretty basic. Some of the things on there are for the boys, so my comments were general. Then I filled out the comments on some of my things. And I noticed that all of my comments went something like, "mine broke/fell apart/wore out so I need another one".  How sad. lol!

I guess I am dealing with a lot of broken things right now. Stuff, people, hearts...sometimes it is all overwhelming. And today I am feeling the weight, especially in the people and hearts category. There is so much sadness in this world. Every day there are people out there that do good deeds that go unnoticed, or worse it seems it's all for naught. But I have to keep reminding myself that there is good in everything. Even if the outcome seems bad, somewhere along the way lives were affected, people changed, memories made.  And when sad things happen I have to look beyond the immediate and search for the bigger meaning in it all.

We are all broken.  We are all messed up in one way or another. And life is a constant battle between doing the good that is naturally in our hearts and giving in to the also naturally occurring anger, the sin and the defeat that we face in so many aspects of our lives. When bad things happen we want to give up, give in and stop doing the good. Because it seems so pointless sometimes. But you just never know how your actions affect the world. Life is much bigger than all of us. I firmly believe that good brings about good, always. 

As I am writing this, Howie Day is playing on Pandora - the song is Collide. The lyrics identified by my brain, cutting through all the noise in there...

Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find
You and I collide

When taken completely out of context of the song as a whole, it kind of illustrates my point. And that is, no matter the good we do, the effort we put in or how successful our efforts seem, sometimes bad things happen.  Things that don't make sense suddenly are the truth. And even if it shakes you and tears your world apart, in a bigger way that we may not even understand, the good has still been done. And in that good, we collide.

Across the room, across the state, the country or even the world - we are connected in ways we may never understand.

Until,
D :)

And just because the song is really pretty, I'll post it if you want to listen.

Break

Um, yeah. Ok.

So, I know I complain a lot, but I really don't like to.  It's just sometimes things are easier to deal with if I can share my feelings with others.  Most of the time I find someone who has been there before that can sympathize with me or at least say, "Hey, I've been there. It will get better." or even "Hey, I've been there and it sucked." It makes me feel better to know I am not alone.

Ok, so maybe I do like to complain.

But I try not to complain all the time. At least I try not to whine about things. But today, man today I feel so bad for my Hubby. And for our situation right now. And just in general.

I have mentioned a few times how everything seems to be breaking around here. The washer is now possessed - working just fine sometimes and refusing to agitate at others. I haven't a clue what is going on with that thing.

I came home from my awesome weekend to find that the door handle on our microwave spontaneously broke. It basically has pulled away from the door and bowed out, making it very difficult to open and shut the door.  The good thing is we actually have 2 microwaves in the kitchen, and another in the closet that we don't use, but the one that broke is the one above the stove and not exactly something that is easy to remove and replace.  And, it is the one I use all the time because it is at *my eye level and I can see everything in it better. I don't like the other one. But beggars can't be choosers I suppose.

Something I haven't mentioned here is that it is very likely that my husband will lose his job at the end of the year. I can't really go into details because nothing is official, but that seems to be the way things are headed and so we are trying to prepare for the inevitable.  The housing market as we all know, really, really stinks right now, and since he is in that field it is pretty unlikely that he will be able to secure employment elsewhere any time soon.  So, we are preparing for him to start working on his own, and are trying to secure the things he needs to do that effectively.  We purchased a new desktop computer and are setting up our spare room as an office just for him.  Otherwise, we are on a spending freeze until...well, probably forever.

whee!


But then today happened - oh JOY! Hubby went for a bike ride and was attacked by a dog while he was riding the trail.  The dog (a vicious black lab, by the way *eyeroll*) bit his ankle pretty good; he's got three puncture holes.

Hubby had the dog owner text her information to him on his phone (which was back in the car) and he thought everything was fine...until he got back to the car.

The car had been broken into. The passenger side window was smashed and his phone and a portable radio were gone. Thankfully they didn't find his wallet, which was also in the car, and they left his very expensive bike wheels in the back. The glove box had been ransacked - not sure what they were looking for, but they certainly made a mess doing it (now that I think about it, they were probably looking for the wallet).

Sooooooooo - we had insurance on the phone, but the deductible was still $50 (for them to replace it with a different, poorly rated phone) and the window is going to cost about $90 to replace.  I probably don't need to mention how much we can't afford this. grrr

If these things happen in threes, then how many are we up to now?  I am pretty sure it's more than 3.

Tonight we recorded our weekly Musing Mommies podcast, and of course, this episode was about the things we are thankful for.  Surprisingly, it wasn't too hard to come up with some blessings.  Even in all the crap, the day to day stuff that happens and gets me down, I know that things are still good. Life is good. Family is good. Friends are good.

God is good. And faithful. And I know He is watching over us and taking care of us. No matter what is thrown at us, we will come out of it ok.

Reminding myself that God is still good. Always.

Until,
D

Taking Chances

*crickets*

Yeah, I know. That last post was a bit strange and weird. I don't blame you for not commenting. I mean, it probably was a lot to decipher. Maybe it was that I posted on a Wednesday and you all are used to me chiming in on Monday.

I am still working on that Monday post...

So, here it is Friday and I am feeling trapped under the weight of too much responsibility.  Yesterday was such an emotional day. I had to order a medical alert bracelet for Kiddo and a special pouch to for him so he could carry his epi-pens. And of course, in doing that it sparked all kinds of conversation with him about his allergy and what it will be like managing that in school.

It is impossible to gently speak to a 5 year old about his mortality.

I can't lie to him. I can't tell him that he won't die if he eats peanuts.  I mean, I pray he won't, but it is always a possibility and he knows that.  And while he expresses that part of it with such ease at times, there are moments when the reality of it bears down on his little chest and he breaks down.  He cried a lot yesterday. I held back a lot of tears of my own.

I have to take him to have his blood drawn so they can test the severity of his allergy. He is pretty scared about that too.  He is usually so brave about shots and the like, but something about them taking his blood is freaking him out. Personally, I don't blame him.

So in talking to him yesterday I could tell that while he is excited about school, he is also terrified. But not in the way a normal kid gets afraid of something new.  He is terrified about dealing with his allergy there and not having anyone "to watch out for him".  He is taking the responsibility all on his little shoulders and it rips me up.  Of course I want him to be diligent about looking out for himself, but at the same time I want him to know that there will be lots of people there looking out for him too. I don't want him to fear everything in the name of being "careful" but I don't want him living haphazardly and not paying attention to possible dangers either.

It is too much to ask of such a small child. It really is. I feel so bad that he has to take on this responsibility. No child should have to fear dying from contacting a food that 98% of the population consume in some form weekly.

So there was all that - and then last night was also Elementary Orientation.

It was strange to say the least. I did not expect to walk in to be greeted first by the principal herself and then directed to tables where people ask you to buy things.

Really?

You have to pay to join the PTA.

Really?

You have to pay to participate in the volunteer program for dads.

Really?

You should by a school shirt for your student.

Ok, so I can kind of understand that one, but my head was still spinning from the PTA... and the fact that the "hot mom" was still speaking to my husband about volunteering. And batting her eyelashes. And standing a little too close... anyway...

Thank goodness I don't carry cash. Though it was a bit awkward to walk away from the table without being the dutiful parent and signing up for everything.

The dad behind the Watch Dog (the dad volunteer program) table was someone I knew, but I couldn't place him. I hate it when that happens.  And of course, a normal person would approach him and say something like "have we met? you look so familiar." but I am not normal. So I tried to steal glances at him discreetly and I have been wracking my brain ever since trying to figure out how I know him.  The best I can figure he either worked at or was a member at the country club I used to work for. But that doesn't seem right either. It's going to bug me until I figure it out. Maybe he goes to our church?? Yup, I think that is it.

So we got a tour of the school, saw the playground and the cafeteria and the library and the Kinder hall.  I now know where drop off is and where I can park on the first couple of days if I want to walk Kiddo to his class (which ought to be real interesting with the Port in tow). The school is setting up a Mommies and Muffins room for all the crying moms on the first day. The school principal told us we shouldn't cry while we are with our kiddos, that we should put on a brave face and a happy smile.

I was holding back tears while she was saying that. Yeah, I am doomed.

I am never going to get out of that room without crying. Maybe I should warn Kiddo ahead of time.


On a good note, the earlier bed time for the boys is going really well. Thank God. Next week I will be waking up earlier and getting them up and dressed first thing in the morning as practice for school. Lord help me.

Until,
D :)

Sign Them Papers

Today has been a really, really hard day.

I don't know exactly how this post is going to go, but I can pretty much guarantee it's not going to be sunshine and roses, so if you don't want to read about my struggles, feel free to move on to something else. There is a long list of very good blogs in my sidebar that I am sure will be enjoyable. Maybe next week I will have something better to talk about.

So, today was kindergarten registration.

If you have been reading my blog for any amount of time, or if you listen to the podcast or know me in real life, you know I have been dreading this.

It sucks.

Can I just say that again? It sucks.

And I am trying to keep a smile on my face, I am trying to not let my kids see what a torture this is to me. Because it is a torture. And I am not going to apologize for that. This is not what I ever wanted for Kiddo; not what I want for him at all and yet I am completely powerless to prevent it. And the thought of him going to public school every day makes me sick to my stomach. I have had a headache and heartburn for days now. Part of it is allergies, yes, but I know a lot of it is not.

I have been having the weirdest dreams. Dreams of me being back in college, back in that ridiculously tense choir room. I am there with every musician that passed through the doors in the almost 8 years I was there, and we are all vying for our rightful spot in the choir hierarchy.

Yes, there was a hierarchy. Yes, there was tension. Don't let our melodious harmonies and perfectly synchronized group sway fool you.

And in every single dream I am the outsider. I have no assigned seat, there is no room in the soprano section for me and I can't find my music folder.

I guess the dream is the equivalent to the showing up on test day without a scantron, or worse, your pants.

I am grinding my teeth in my sleep; something I only do when I am deeply stressed about something.

And today I thought I could be ok with all of this. I can talk about it and tell myself the good things about him going to school; I can reason with myself that my fears and hang ups are not as big and important as him getting out into a group setting and being around other kids. I know he needs peer interaction. I know he needs time away from me. I know I need time away from him.

If the last two weeks have been any indication, we both need a break.

But even though I can rationalize and find favor in him going to school, deep down, I know it is most definitely not what I want.

So we go today, and I try not to make a big deal about it, because I know that while he is very excited about it all, he is definitely nervous too. I do believe that a lot of his excessive whining and weirdness in the past two weeks has been partly due to knowing we were doing this today. I prepped him as we pulled into the parking lot, and asked him to please not interrupt when I was talking to the adults and to please try to not ask random strangers too many questions. (he has a bad habit of doing that) He did really well, except for when he cornered some poor mom and her 3 kids while he chatted them up and asked for all their names and birthdays.

sigh

At least she was nice, and her oldest was starting kindergarten this fall too and so she made sure he properly introduced himself. And she didn't even stumble when Kiddo asked her for her birth date.

mercy

We made it through the paper work and I was able to ask the nurse about Kiddo's need to carry an epi pen. She had to give me a stack of paperwork for that, and I have to have physician's signatures on a bunch of it. So I guess I need to schedule an appointment with the allergist. I am supposed to bring the paperwork back to the school the week before classes start and go over everything with the nurse then. She said that they also do an orientation on the first day of classes that informs the kids that they have a classmate with an allergy and the things they can and can't do. I was kind of disappointed that she didn't say that the school or certain classes might be peanut free, but I guess that is really too much to ask. Though, she did say they had several students with peanut allergies.

I am concerned that the paperwork she gave me was for "self carry and administration" of meds. I certainly prefer him to carry them on his person at all times, but he is by no means able to self administer them. Shoot, I am not real sure an adult could self administer if in that situation. I guess it's another question I am going to have to ask. There are so many.

The whole situation was surreal; nothing really out of the ordinary happened. I didn't necessarily have a bad feeling about the place, but I didn't get a good one either. I didn't have the right document showing his vaccination history but the nurse was able to look him up on some state registry. The woman who was checking everyone in and giving out all the paperwork looked tired and stressed. She wasn't rude by any means, just not very friendly or welcoming. She made me feel like she didn't want to be there. Maybe she didn't. I did find it strange that while she smiled at everyone else, she never smiled at me. Also, she gave a book to every child that came through to register, except for us.

We made it through and left the building. I had to promise Kiddo we'd be back in August to meet his teacher and see his room before school officially started. He wanted to see everything today, but of course that was not possible. We got out to the van, I got everyone in their seats, put the van in reverse, and burst into tears. It totally snuck up on me.

I took a deep breath and backed out, and suddenly Port was asking for a hot dog. It was a very unusual request for being in the van - he knows that snacks in the car usually consist of gold fish crackers and the occasional baggie or cheerios. His request got more and more, um, enthusiastic, and since we were actually headed to HEB I decided a detour to Sonic (and a huge Dr. Pepper to choke down the tears) was in order. We enjoyed some snacks in the car and all felt better in time for the grocery store trip.

When we got home I commented on facebook about the experience and how I felt like I was going at the whole thing blindly. I hadn't been able to find any information on the teachers at the school, nor did I know anyone who had a child in the kinder program there. After chatting with a couple of people, I was able to find more info on the teachers. An old high school friend told me a few of her friends liked 2 of the teachers in particular, but that was all I really had to go on. I realized that most people request the teacher(s) they want, and she convinced me it would probably be in Kiddo's best interest to do the same.

Since I was going on very little information, I decided that three of the teachers would probably be a better choice than the other 2 available, and so when Port woke up from his nap we went back up to the school to fill out the request form. The same woman was doing the check ins, and she still looked tired and unhappy. The nurse actually got me the form I needed and left the boys and I in the front office to fill it out.

There was a section on the form that you have to fill out where you write a few sentences about the "special needs" of your child and why you think the teachers you were requesting would be a better fit. I could not think of anything worth while to say, so I just put some nonsense on there about Kiddo being easily distracted and asking a lot of questions (I mean, surely that is well within the broad range of "normal" for a 5 year old, right?) and that he needed someone who was understanding of that and encouraging of his inquisitive nature, and also someone who would be comfortable administering life saving medication. I don't know if any of the teachers I requested fit that bill, but that was all I could think of.

What I should have put there was this: I am too distracted by the 2 year old who is trying to destroy your office and my school aged child really has no "special needs" to speak of. However, I am yet another psychotic mommy who is stressed out and feeling inadequate and only wants the best possible experience for her child, and who was told by other caring moms that these three teachers are ok while the other two suck. Please help me feel like I am advocating for my child in some small way by making me feel like I had some control in this personally awful situation. Thankyouverymuch.

If only we could be so honest.

So, we will see how this all pans out. I have been a mess all day; crying at the drop of a hat and very sentimental toward my boys. Kiddo got a lot of cuddles and kisses during Port's nap time. I think he needed it almost as much as I did.

The next few months are going to age me 10 years. I already feel an ulcer and the gray hair coming on.

Until,
D

Empty

Hello my lovies!

I am sorry I didn't blog yesterday, but well, to be honest, yesterday totally sucked. It started with being up with Port for over an hour in the middle of the night and then weird and scary dreams before I even woke up. Then I woke up to Kiddo messing with me while I was trying to catch the lat few minutes of sweet sleep. I was cranky, and I told him if he couldn't be still he needed to go back to his room. Of course, asking a 5 year old to be still is like asking...well it's like asking a 5 year old to be still! It isn't going to happen! So I fussed at him and he burst into pitiful tears, wailing that he only wanted to cuddle with me. Of course the HUGE, GINORMOUS Boulder of Mommy Guilt crushed my chest and so I apologized and snuggled with him for a while before his brother woke up. Then I kicked myself for the rest of the day for not being a normal mom and a nice mom and cherishing every little moment I have with him because in a few short months he will be off to school and cuddling with him in the mornings will be something I will most likely never be able to do again (and probably not something he would want to do anyway). Why can't I ever remember these things in the moment? Why do I have to make him cry to trigger my brain that maybe he is still a little guy that loves me and just wants to be near me? Ugh.

So...I am PMSing. And of course the whole day just kind of went down hill from there. It wasn't that anything really was bad, there were just a million and one little annoyances that added up and by 5PM I was done, done, done. Port is teething and so he is dealing with constant (seriously like every 10 minutes) nasty diapers that are burning his little hiney no matter what I do. So I had to chase him around all day and check his diaper every 5 minutes, and every time he needed to be changed I had to wrestle him to the changing table and deal with him fighting every move I made. We went to the grocery store and I bought way more than I expected (hello! they finally have peppermint mocha creamer in the store!!). I was standing in the check out and I realized that I forgot to pick up one of the free items from the meal deal I was buying. It was a loaf of bread that I could have received for free and I totally forgot it. And of course, I am too weird about these things and the boys were right on the verge of going insane so I didn't bother asking the checker if someone could go get it for me. So I kicked myself all the way back to the van for not getting the free loaf of bread, and then opened the van to find that I had a shopping cart full of groceries and a van full of bicycles and gear. So I had to move everything out of the way and load up the groceries while the boys were losing their minds.

Then there was the usual nap time struggle and dealing with Kiddo during nap time when I am trying to get work done and all he wants to do is play with me. He likes it when we have time for just the two of us and I totally understand, but I really needed to get some things done. And once again, I told him "no" one too many times and he burst into tears and the Mommy Guilt Boulder found it's way to my desk chair. And then I fought with the boulder and the angry woman in my head who was yelling at me for feeling guilty. So there is part of me that wants to teach him to play independently and part of me that is sad that he will be starting school soon and part of me that just wants to enjoy having him around while I can. And none of my parts knows how much to give or take and what is healthiest for him and they are all angry at each other.

Confused yet?

Oh and when I was at the grocery store I bought some yogurt specifically to help little Port with his issue and when I unloaded the groceries from the van I somehow managed to leave one bag in the back.

The only thing in the bag was 5 containers of yogurt. *sigh*

Beyond that I am dealing with other things I can't discuss on here - actually anywhere, and dealing with them internally is just eating me up right now. And most of it is petty and ridiculous and blown way out of proportion by hormones and some lingering, insecurities that I really wish would go live with my 16 year old self because that is where they belong. And yesterday I was just wishing I had 1 friend that I could be incredibly selfish and whiny and a big cry baby with so I could get all of the "dark and twisty" out of my system and be done with it. But that's just not going to happen and so I was mad at myself for wanting that and feeling that way.

And then right about the time I was teetering on the edge, Hubby changed his plans and, though it was nothing at all it tossed me off the ledge. Add to that a couple of other well timed bits of information coming across my desk and by the time Hubby got home, I was a lunatic.

{welcome home Dear!}

So yeah, the day was not so hot. I wasn't planning on writing it all out like this, but I kind of feel better for doing it. One highlight was getting a phone call from a dear friend.

Today was not much better - more poop, more screaming Port, more wrestling with him every 5 minutes when I had to change his diaper, more PMS. Thankfully my sweet, dear, wonderful friend Kim made a trip to the store for her own family and offered to bring me some yogurt for the boy on her way back. Sadly, I couldn't get him to actually eat any of it until late afternoon, but I was very grateful I didn't have to go to the store myself to get it.

The day has had it's bright moments; a couple of encouraging phone calls and a semi-encouraging email, another call from another dear friend and some nice moments with the kids.

Things are starting to emerge in the garden. I have cucumber, zucchini, peas, black beans and basil sprouting. I am still waiting on green beans, corn, tomatoes, peppers, lima beans and okra. I think it has been too cold for them until recently. Hopefully they will make their way through the dirt soon.

And hopefully tomorrow will be better. Though, the weather is supposed to be yucky, so I am not getting my hopes up. And I have to do taxes. Joy.

I will try to think of something more positive to talk about tomorrow.

Until,
D :)

Same Direction

I love my garden.

While it might not be the most successful thing I've done, it does produce a little and more than anything I truly enjoy working in it. I love the smells, the sights, the dirt under my nails; it is one of the few things I don't mind getting all dirty and sweaty for. It is fascinating to me; the process of planting seeds, watching and encouraging the plants to grow; the bearing of "fruit". The stages of it bring me joy and wonder, heartache and elation.

I've been considering purchasing some fruit trees; specifically apple and pear, because those are 2 of the primary fruits we eat. I would love to cut that expense out of our monthly food budget for some of the year. But I hesitate to spend the precious $30+ for each tree because I know that it will take several years of cultivating and caring and tending before I ever see fruit. And when that finally happens I will have invested way more than the initial $30.

I have to remind myself that what I get out of the things I grow goes well beyond the fruit produced. It is an outlet, a sanctuary for me to relax, spend time in nature, explore, get outside (or inside if needed) my head for a while, and a way for me to just be myself. The garden doesn't expect me to be "on" or be fun or be intelligent. It just needs me - as I am. I try to do the best I can with it and my limited knowledge and it rewards my efforts with beautiful flowers and fuel for my kitchen.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Many days I am not the parent I want to be. This stage we are in (please God, let it only be a stage) is something I don't feel I am able to really handle. I yell way more than I like. I am easily angered, easily frustrated. It seems all the endless and unwavering patience I once had just flew out the window, taking my sanity with it. I get so. very. angry. at Kiddo. He fools me with his intelligent conversation and amazing brain and I all to often forget he is just a little kid. And we (Kiddo and I) are both caught in the middle of wanting him to be bigger than he is and we both are irritated that he is still so immature at times. His frustration and completely irrational reactions to things fluster and anger me. I don't know how to get him to understand anything anymore because he either won't listen or he gets it in his head that he doesn't understand and then nothing I say can change his mind.

I am not a yeller normally. If an adult angers me, I am much more likely to go away silently or to cry. Or both. I do not confront. I do not yell. I get sad and depressed and sometimes I might confide in a good friend and be angry in the conversation, but I rarely show that anger to the offender.

With Kiddo, it's different. I don't know what it is about him that makes me react the way I do.

And I can see how unfair it is sometimes. I can see that I favor the baby right now. But that is more about the baby's age than anything else. He is just...well.

easier. For now.

And after a particularly intense moment, I feel awful. Terribly, terribly awful. I never want to yell or raise my voice in such a way. I don't want to make him cry with my words and my actions.

I don't want to scare him.

I don't want him to be afraid of me.

Sure, I know there is a healthy dose of "fear" when it comes to your parents. But somehow in the last 6 months or so we have transitioned from a fear that comes from knowing that mom and dad are the leaders and they can take the fun things away if I screw up... to a fear of, oh crap I screwed up and now she's going to scream at me again.

I am kind of out of leverage here. I can take away the video games and it doesn't really seem to bother him. Instead he drives me insane about it by asking every five minutes what day it is and what day he is going to get them back. Or worse, he will remind me every five minutes what day it is and what day he will get them back. The boy is a human calendar.

Taking away toys is tricky. One, he has so many that missing one really isn't a problem. Two, most likely the toy in question is one that the baby wants, and taking it away causes me problems with him. Time outs don't seem to work anymore.

And it's not that Kiddo is a bad kid. Quite the contrary - he is pretty amazing most of the time. He is smart and clever and funny. His eyes light up when he knows he is being listened to. He talks constantly. And I am serious about that - he does not stop talking ever. He even talks in his sleep. But he really is fun to be around and so very often I am amazed at how wonderful he is. It makes me ache that I can't do more for him. The guilt is almost too much to bear.

But I think with basic discipline, the majority of our issues lie in the fact that we don't do anything.

We, well he, Kiddo, is bored out of his sweet little mind.

He is a social butterfly. He loves being around people and kids and he loves being out of the house.

But with the baby and my work and the nap schedule, I can only do so much.

Never mind the fact that I am totally opposite. Given the opportunity, I could stay in my house for days at a time. I like being home. I am comfortable here.

But Kiddo, staying home is just not his thing. And he needs to be around other kids. He needs to talk and run and play and do something active. I want so badly to put him in something like a sport or karate; I know he would love it and thrive in the activity. I wish we could send him to school.

But of course, it isn't going to happen.

It's going to be a long year.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

I discovered today that something is eating my lettuce plant babies in my garden. I am pretty sure it is slugs.

So I am tossing down coffee grounds and oats and anything else I can come up with to deter or kill them. I am replanting seeds and pruning and digging in the dirt. It is messy, it is tiring and it is sometimes painful (like when I step on the rake - cartoon style). Sometimes I look at my garden and sheer joy and satisfaction comes over me. Sometimes I look at it and discover something chewed on or dying and it makes me cry. Sometimes I see a pest and I get so angry that it is nothing for me to squish it between my fingers.

But I know if I keep pressing on, working through the sickness and battling the bugs and nurturing and talking to the plants I will create something beautiful. I will help to cultivate something wonderful and life sustaining and fragrant. Along the way I will get frustrated and things will get messy, but in the end it will all be worth it. The investment, be it financial, emotional or physical is an investment in the future.

Perhaps motherhood and gardening are not so different.

Until,
D

Green Eyed Girl

Ok, so remember a couple of weeks ago I mentioned what Kiddo said to me about having a baby sister?? Well since that conversation he hasn't mentioned it again. I figured it was just a passing thing and haven't really thought much about it.

Well, I do think about having another baby, but not because Kiddo told me it was going to happen.

Anyway...

Tonight as we were driving to Houston, out of the blue (and after a very long stretch of silence from him; man, it must have been like a whole 30 seconds..) Kiddo says,

"Mommy you have a baby in your belly."

[I almost drove off the road]

I do?

"Yes, and it is a girl. I can tell because your belly is growin'."

[thanks a lot Kid.]

********************************

Just for the record, my belly is doing anything BUT growing, considering I lot 6 pounds this week, so there. :P

But this whole baby thing is really starting to bug me. It's no secret that I was really hoping Port was a girl. I really want to have a girl - for many reasons, and there are times now (becoming more frequent) that I think about that little girl and I once again mourn for her.

In church last Sunday, we were standing during the music portion. All the lights were down, the praise team was rockin' it, and I was caught up in the music.

Usually during that portion of the service, I am totally focused on the stage and the people in front of me. I don't often see my husband standing next to me - often because I am emotional and trying not to draw attention to the fact that I am crying.

But for a split second this past Sunday, out of the corner of my eye I saw my husband. And in his arms was a little baby girl with dark brown hair and green eyes.

And it took my breath away.

Of course, there was no baby girl. It was a figment of my imagination. A vision perhaps. A dream.

But for a moment she was there, and she was real and she was beautiful.

And it took all my strength to stand there and pretend to sing through the tears.

Until,
D

The Horror

I never thought I would see the day.

I'd read the stories.

I'd envisioned the madness.

I cringed at the thought.

I sympathized with the victims.

I had the nightmares.

But it was not near as gruesome in my head as it was in real life.

No one ever thinks it will happen to them.

And then one day, you look over at your sweet babe.

.
.
.
.
And realize he is smearing his own poo all over your beloved wood floor.

Oooooh yeah.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

So I can't just end a post with that. I'll give you an idea of a normal conversation with Kiddo.

~on the way to meet Hubby and the inlaws for lunch...

(while passing Hubby's office) read this as fast as you can for the full effect...

"Is that Daddy's office?"
-yes
"Did he go to work?"
-yes
"Did he drive the CRV?"
-yes
"Does he have a motorcycle too?"
-yes
"Does it get better gas mileage than the van?"
-yes
"Does it have a big engine?"
-yes
"Does it take him on big adventures?"
-yes
"Does it drive really fast?"
-yes
"I had Lucky Charms for BREAKFAST!!"
???

Okie dokie! lol!

Until,
D :)

Orange Crush

How do you stay positive when...

Your Sunday night ends in a massive explosion on all levels, ranging from the blow out of blow out diapers (resulting in you getting covered in nasty, smelly baby poo) to a fight with the Hubby and lots of silence. Then Monday starts with yet another blow out diaper (resulting in more laundry), cat puke all over the new wood floor and the old Elmo stuffed animal (again, more to wash). You try to put it aside, getting your hopes up with the promise of a new camera at a smokin price, only to find the camera isn't there, neither are any of the other things you were poised to purchase if the price was right and you waste the morning driving all over town chasing something that never was. The kids drive you nuts, the baby won't quit screaming because his mouth is revolting by shoving every tooth it can find through the gums at the same time; the 4 year old asks you the same question he's been asking you for months for the 43,249,032,532,478,390,243,849,732nd time and when you can't muster up enough energy to answer something nicely he crosses his arms, punches the baby and throws something across the room.

The baby refuses to nap, but you survive the grocery store and dinner time and the still angry Hubby comes home just in time for you to put the kids to bed. The baby doesn't settle in your arms like your usual night time routine and instead sits straight up, looks you in the eye and says "nigh, nigh?". And you ask him if he's ready to go night-night and he smiles and shakes his head yes. So you try to lay him back down in your arms and he squirms and fusses and you ask him if he just wants to get in the crib and he shakes his head yes again. So unbelieving you stand and point into the crib and say "this?" and you get another grunt and shake of approval. Begrudgingly you place the baby in his crib, he grabs the bottle from you, turns on his fishy water noise machine all by himself and lays himself down to go to bed. You exit the room with your tail between your legs, trying not to cry and find that life is going on without you in your house.

And all the while, somewhere in Boston, a place you've never been, people you'll never meet are waiting to hear the news about their 5 month old son. People all over the world are praying for him and wearing orange in his honor as he fights for his life in the hands of a cardiac surgeon. The 2 hour procedure that started early this morning is still not over and we wait and we worry and we cry for this little boy so far away.

And I wonder,

how does one stay positive?

Please say a prayer and wear orange for little Stellan today. Because even though life as you know it may not be going so well, he is fighting a battle that no baby should ever have to fight. And his family is suffering in a way no family should ever have to suffer.

Until,
D

Hail, Hail

So we had some excitement today...
The biggest I saw in my yard was maybe slightly larger than golf ball size, but the news reported baseball size. The way it was coming down, so hard and fast and in all directions,
made us all fear the house was about to cave in. When it really picked up I gathered the kids in the living room.
It was so loud the baby was screaming and the boy was starting to panic. The sound was deafening, and I looked into the kitchen just in time to see something falling. I ran the kids into the bathroom and the three of us along with the dog hung out in there until the storm had passed.
When we came out, I looked up to see this...
Here, let me give you a closer look.
Joy.

Until,
D :(

Baby Stellan

I had another post written for today, but I can't publish it right now because this is more important.

Please, if you pray, if you believe in a higher power, karma, fate, good will, whatever - if you have just a moment, please say a quick prayer for a little 4 month old baby named Stellan.

Stellan has an amazing story. It's a story of devastation and certain death; a story of a miraculous healing by God and a story of the cutest little baby you've ever seen. And suddenly this weekend, sweet little Stellan became horribly sick and once again needs our prayers, good thoughts and well wishes.

I do not know Stellan and his family personally, but for some reason I am so upset by this and I can't get them out of my head. Please join me in sending as much positive energy as possible to him, to slow his heart and calm his body.

Thank you.
D

Walking Man

Ok, so I finally got the baby walking on video - please excuse my voice and the noises I make. Lordy, it's embarrassing! He has started turning now; walking a little in a straight line and then turning around and walking the other way. Slowly but surely he is figuring out how easy it can be to get from one place to another if he walks. I'm expecting his first run any day now! ;)


I am a little down today. Some sad news last night about my sister in law combined with a far too early wake up and clingy, whiny baby today (he is getting in another tooth - joy) has left me with a cloud of crank on my head.

[What, you've never seen a cloud of crank?? Well believe you me, they are ugly. Mean and ugly.]

Anyway, I am having a hard time focusing on anything. I guess it's not the best day to try to do my taxes, huh? Oh well.

On the good side - a wonderful, fun, exciting opportunity has been laid in my lap and a meeting last night about it left me giddy for hours. My hubby asked me if I was sure I drank decaf at the coffee shop. lol!

Anyway, I will reveal more later, because it's probably gonna take some 'splainin' and I am not ready to get all into it right now.

So that's the good and the bad for the day. Join me on the roller coaster, will you?

Until,
D :) :/

Cut My Life Into Pieces

Freekin' Fabulous.

So Hubby just informed me that his company did another round of layoffs (that's round 5 people) and a pay cut across the board (5% Joy). Thankfully Hubby still has a job, but a pay cut??!? Lord, I don't know what we are going to do now. We are barely making it as it is and we are still $300 in the hole each month when I factor in our annual property taxes (no, we do not have escrow on our mortgage account).

So a lot of you know that my birthday is coming up on Thursday, and I have a very strong feeling it's going to be absolutely horrible in some way. Call me psychic, call me psychotic, whatever, but I do not want to even acknowledge it. I have a feeling it is going to be something like my 30th - if any of you recall, I got fired from my job a few days before my 30th birthday because they found out I was pregnant with Kiddo, and therefore was "not a team player". uh huh.

So anyway, I really don't want to "celebrate" my birthday - it's not the age or anything, it's just our circumstances. I don't want to get my hopes up daydreaming about any kind of celebrating or dinner out or pampering of any sort because it just isn't going to happen. I'm not trying to throw a pity party either - I am just trying to be practical. If I treat it like any other day then I won't be tempted to spend any money. Right? Right.

So yeah, I am going to be 35 - it doesn't seem real. I think part of my problem is that I've been on Facebook so much lately, talking to "old" friends and thinking about things that happened 15-20 years ago...I am back in that young adult mind frame again (sort of). Then I look at pictures of my family and I think, "how the heck did that happen? Look what I did!" lol. It's a strange feeling for sure. Even more strange is seeing people I went to high school with that have kids that are or are almost teenagers! My boys are still so young, and some of my friends are preparing their kids for the high school years already (and a couple for college! yikes!). I just can't imagine it.

I still feel like in many ways I am just starting out. Like this is just the beginning. When will I feel like I am in the middle of it?

When will this headache go away?

Until,
D :/

No Woman No Cry

Happy Friday Company Girls! (and my other readers as well)

Well today has been a trying day. Last night with Port was so bad - at 2am I found myself staring at the ceiling, resenting my baby for being such a bad sleeper. I had to seriously concentrate on not getting angry with him. He tossed and turned and fussed and head butted all night long. I couldn't put him in his crib, I couldn't sleep with him on the couch (usually a last resort, but it always works - nope not last night), I couldn't walk with him nor could I rock, sway, soothe, or do anything that calmed him down enough to sleep. I think he may have been a tad warm - the house was warmer than usual. But beyond that there really was no reason for him to be awake all night.

At about 3 I turned down the air conditioning and cooled off the house some and he finally passed out in our bed at about 4. He slept hard until almost 9 this morning. I have had it. I can't do this with him anymore. My attitude and my disposition have been altered and I can't be a good mom to him or Kiddo if I don't get some sleep soon.

Several friends suggested Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child to me so my dear friend picked it up for me at a Half-Price Books when she was out running errands today. I poured through it all afternoon and tonight we took the plunge. Instead of our usual routine of taking the bottle to go to sleep and sleeping in my arms until he is out enough to transfer to the crib - I settled with him in his room for a few minutes, cuddled and kissed him and put him in the crib wide awake. I told him goodnight and turned out the light.

He sat there; stunned in the darkness.

For a few moments he was silent. Then through the door I heard his little "uh" he makes when he "talks" to me. It's that familiar there you are that we exchange whenever we acknowledge each other. Only this time he was not hearing me say it back.

And then he started to cry.

Of course, I knew he would - but I really had no idea how it would effect me. I thought I would be upset, but I didn't know that I would turn into a caged animal of sorts. I frantically hunted for my mp3 player, hoping the music flooding my ears would drown out my sweet baby's cries for me. I haven't used it since I was in labor with him, and when I put the buds in my ears I was suddenly transported back 11 months to that hospital room, sitting on a birthing ball and willing my baby boy into the world. The feelings of calm and joy that the music brought me then were replaced by sadness and feelings of inadequacy. My internal me berated me for being a bad mother and soon enough I was crying and ripping the buds out of my ears.

Thankfully, it had been about 30 minutes and thankfully the crying in Port's room had stopped.

Other than a few moans here and there, he has been silent ever since.

I desperately want to check in on him, but I'm afraid if I do he might see me and ruin the progress made this evening. According to the book, I shouldn't go in to see him until after the 6am mark.

It's going to be a long night.

I hope you all have a wonderful, restful weekend.

Until,
D :)

Walk On

Each day in the life brings a series of roller coaster moments. Sometimes the ride is tame, and other times it leaves me breathless. But each morning, I get up and strap myself in the ride, say a quick prayer and hope for the best.

Lately life in general has been extreme; up, down, up, down. And just when things start to even out and the ride comes to that flat straight-a-way, someone pulls a lever and off we go, and I am holding on to the safety rail and holding my breath.

I find myself almost daily now staring off into space, avoiding things I should do and people I should see, and I wonder if my depression is coming back again. We just can't get a leg up. Hubby's work did round 3 of layoffs last week. Things are tense to say the least. I am worried constantly, and in that worry I find myself sinking deeper and deeper...


Kiddo can be so sweet, and so frustrating. Some days he is in time-out all day. Like today, he's been awful. Mouthy, defiant, rude and just plain old mean to his brother. He is the evil version of himself, the black Spiderman to his usual good humored superhero persona. Today I haven't the energy to get ruffled. I am ignoring the behavior and punishing only when absolutely necessary. It's probably not the right thing to do, but it's all I can do today.

Port is a special kind of ornery today. This kid is headstrong I tell you. As my friend Mollie told me yesterday, I have created a monster. She is right. He screams, I jump. I can't handle the screaming. I am too tired and it just hurts my head when he gets upset.

But I try to savor the little moments of life, the glimpses of hope and joy and peace I find in my day to day. My kids, oh how I love them. They bring me so much joy...and so much headache. But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

This morning started early; way too early for both Hubby and I, as Port flipped and flopped and moaned and groaned in the bed between us. The night itself really wasn't too bad (no good either, but I take what I can get these days) but he started waking sometime in the 5 o'clock hour and fussed and fidgeted until I finally got up at 7.

Our early rising woke up Kiddo, who is a total bear when his beauty sleep is interrupted. I guess that explains his attitude today.

But just an hour or so later, we had some excitement. Port took his first steps!!! I set him down in front of me as I do many times a day and I let go. The first time he took one kind of half step and lunged for me, falling into my arms. I stood him up again and he took 5 clean, big steps toward me. Just like his big brother did almost 4 years ago, Port squealed the entire time. He was so excited; I was so excited. I cried and laughed and squealed right along with him!

10 1/2 months and he walks!

It may still take some time, but now that I know for sure he can do it I am going to encourage him even more.

Which, leads us to a low in this ride. Port is mad. He is mad that I am not helping him walk like I normally do. He is mad that I am making him try to walk by himself. He is screaming and crying and pitching fits (full blown tantrums) over it. Nothing is making him happy.

Up, down, up down.

Until,
D :)

Decision of the Skies

Why is it that when I am away from the computer, I think of all these great things to blog, but then when I have a moment and I sit down to blog them I can't remember a thing? I can't even think of where to start or what to write about. There is just so much right now.

So, I realize it is only January, but I am completely immersed in thinking about Kiddo and school. This could be his year to start Kindergarten or I can hold him back one more year. My, it went so fast. I really thought I had more time to think about this. But, I think many of the schools start the fall registration process in February. ack!

I'm still not even sure if we are going to send him to public school, private school or go the home-school route. There are so many reasons for and against all of it - it is completely overwhelming.

First off there is Kiddo's peanut allergy. This is a BIG issue because his allergy is not slight - just being around someone that has the proteins on their hands could send him into a reaction. He is contact sensitive and if he ingests something unknowingly, he is still too young in my opinion to know what to do about it. Or maybe it's that he is still very socially immature - when something is wrong he is more likely to hide rather than seek help. That scares the life out of me. I wake up in a cold sweat dreaming about it at night. I cannot trust that a teacher or even a school nurse would know what to do - nor can I trust that they could locate and properly administer the epi-pens even if they did. I know a lot of the schools are going peanut free and that is wonderful - but what about the parent who forgets or just doesn't care, or the kids that have pb&j for breakfast and get it on their clothes??? The possibilities of contamination are endless. I am trying not to be paranoid about it, but man it is tough.

Private Christian school would ultimately be my first choice - if we could afford it. I seriously doubt that will ever happen though. I may as well take that out of the running.

I always thought I would home school - but as of late have been doubting my ability to stay focused and organized enough to actually do it properly. Kiddo is very bright and I know he needs social interaction, and I am afraid that while I can probably give him a better education (assuming I can get my act together), I know that I probably won't give him the social interaction he needs. Past actions can predict future actions, and I have a hard enough time taking him to playdates and stuff as it is.

Another downside to home schooling is that I really need a break. I need the social interaction as much as he does I think.

And now we are possibly dealing with another big issue. Hubby and I think Kiddo may have a slight sensory disorder, hyperacusis. This is something that actually I have dealt with in some degree all my life, and lately Kiddo has been demonstrating hearing sensitivities - to the point of it interfering with normal life. He has always been a bit weird about crowds and loud places. As a baby and toddler I had to be careful to keep him on the perimeter of a group or he would freak out. I thought he had outgrown it, but recently his Sunday school teacher pulled me aside after a particularly rough morning. She told me that Kiddo freaks out every Sunday when they go for children's worship (the music time). Kiddo complains that it is too loud; he won't listen and usually he freaks out and starts crying or panicking. The teacher decided it would be best to have him walk the halls with a volunteer every Sunday during the music time. He has been much better behaved since they started doing that. It makes me incredibly sad when I think about it.

He has unusual or weird reactions to different kinds of noise. Sometimes he gets scared, sometimes he panics and sometimes he just cries uncontrollably. He even gets mad or enraged. On Christmas Eve we went to the 7:00 service. Rick Trevino was performing, and at one point he invited all the children to come up to the stage and sing a song. Even though I wasn't sure it was the best idea, we let Happy take Kiddo up to the stage. He sat down on a step with about 200 other kids and when the music started...well everyone was all smiles except my child, who crossed his arms across his chest and had the most sour look on his face the entire time. The video cameras were panning across the sea of children, close in on their smiling, beaming, happy Christmas faces, and you could actually hear the crowd collectively giggle when Kiddo's face came up on the big monitors hanging over the stage. By the time the song was over, Kiddo was in a full on rage and Hubby had to take him out of the sanctuary until he calmed down.

So now I am doing some research into what can be done for him, and eventually will have to set up some hearing tests. I am hoping their might be some early intervention programs or some sort of therapy that he can get into - because if he doesn't learn how to control himself and cope with the confusing signals his ears are sending his brain, he is going to have a lot of trouble in school.

My affliction with the same thing is probably not as severe. I have always had a problem with certain tones and dissonance. Growing up I had huge reactions to the emergency broadcast system's warning tones. When they changed the warning tones some 10-15 years ago I was greatly relieved, though I still have to turn them way down when I hear them on the tv or radio. As a music major in college, I learned to deal with my reactions to certain tones, but overall my sensitivity caused me to struggle with singing "loud enough". It wasn't until I was studying at ASU that my vocal professor suggested I have my hearing checked. He told me the reason I couldn't give him the volume he wanted (after him shouting at me "sing loud!" and I shouted back "I AM!!" grr!) was because my head was telling me I was already singing loud. He spoke to me at a "normal" speaking volume and asked me if I thought he was speaking loudly. Of course, I said yes, and he determined that I most likely have oversensitive hearing. After doing some research on Kiddo's behalf, I am certain that I suffer from hyperacusis as well.

But poor Kiddo, he just doesn't understand his reactions sometimes and I think it makes it worse. I can ask him what is wrong and he will wail "I don't know!!!!". I think it scares him.

So, in all this school stuff that is something else to consider. Something else to make the decision more difficult. As a mom I struggle with the intense desire to keep him home, to shelter him from the big, bad world; to keep him as far away from feeling "different" as possible. He has issues, every kid does, but no mom ever wants to see the day that their child realizes they have something going on with them that is not normal and not "special" in a positive way. I hate that he will someday have to experience that. I pray daily that I can prepare him, so that he can take his issues and spin them in a positive manner. And I pray that God will give me the wisdom to come up with a way to make that possible. Because right now I am at a total loss. I have no idea how to explain things, if I even should explain them, or how to go about it. I know things could be much, much worse and much more difficult. I know we are so very blessed he is healthy and smart and able bodied. I know that there is so much more positive than negative. But I still struggle with not having a normal existence; a normal life.

We all struggle in one way or another. This is our journey. I just wish it came with a map.

Until,
D :)

Blues Traveler Lyrics
When you're living in a series of atmospheres
You don't stand upon the world, but within it
And the faster that you move, the lighter you become
The farther out you go, the better the view
And you wanna rise
So that you can last
Take it all in slowly
Real fast
The capsule goes at 17,000 miles an hour
To make the sky act like a pond
And if it should slow down
Then the mighty ship will sink
As if falling through the sea
So your destination for the outskirts
Thinks the answer lies beyond
But the slower that you go
The more substantial you become
Come to rest against the pure and solid center
And you wanna last
So that you might rise
Take it all in slow
That's the decision of the skies
The decision of the skies
Your best discovery will always be
Simply what you see
And there's something to look at ...everywhere
Devoid of any destination
Yes, you're part of a relation
From the cold ocean floor
And beyond the softest air
When you're living, you're just a series of atmospheres
Whatever velocity appeals
And no matter how you move
You're going to become
You cannot end and there's no beginning
The farthest you can go is right behind you
The closest you can get is nowhere near
And it could make you wonder where
When you're discussing here or there
And do you really have to get going
And nothing lasts
And only time really flies
And you're always free
From the decision of the skies
Decision of the skies

We Need A Little Christmas

Hello everyone! I know, I know, I dropped off the planet again. It tends to happen after NaBloPoMo - I think I've gotten into a blogging routine when the reality is I've been burned out completely. Then I feel resentful about the blog - like I am neglecting it or something (which, let's face it, I am) and then I start blogging in my sleep, in my head while I'm driving, in the shower, etc. and I have all these stories and things I want to put in a post or two or three and then it just gets all overwhelming and I am paralyzed to do anything related to blogging because it is Just. Too. Much.

Yes, I am neurotic.

But you still love me, right?

Hello?

Anybody there?

Yes, I know everyone is busy right now - who has time to check a blog that rarely posts anyway?

Ok, enough of that - for those of you still checking in, here are some updates on us.

Port cut his second tooth last Sunday. For those keeping score, that 2 teeth in a mere 8 days. Uh Huh. We have been in Teething H - E - Double Hockey Sticks!! ;) I need to buy stock in Tylenol I tell ya. He is also pulling up and cruising around the furniture, destroying everything in his path. And he is absolutely driving me nutso making me walk him around the house all the time. My back is killing me! Port also has signed "milk" about 4 times now - the first time was last week. I thought it was a fluke, but he did it twice in a row and has done it a couple of times since. It is so cool when he does it, but it's very sneaky - you have to really watch for it. I will be so glad when he is more consistent and can communicate a bit with it. Because right now he is a mess having entered into the "I shall scream bloody murder every time something isn't right and you must frantically throw things at me until you figure it out" phase. I have never seen a child get so MAD over stuff.

He is getting a little bit better about letting me put him down. He will usually scream for a bit but then find something to play with for at least a minute before he comes crawling for me. There are some things that will entertain him for a little longer than others - the singing ride-on car, the musical turtle, his favorite book and sometimes my keys. Daddy's laptop mouse is a great source of amusement, but often leads to him trying to pull the whole computer off the table.

Kiddo is, well, he has good days and bad. I am trying lots of hugs and cuddles and it seems to be helping a bit during the day. Night time is still a mess though- I think he may just be too tired at night to be in a good frame of mind. We have backed his bed time up to 9:30 most nights, but I am thinking it needs to be more like 8:30. Shower time is just a nightmare, because he knows bed time is right around the corner. I think I might try giving him his shower either in the morning or right after supper so that he has some time before bed and we don't end up with a scream fest every night.

As for me, well I guess I am alright. I am caught up with my photo shoots, have a new one to edit and also need to get my own holiday cards designed and ordered. Since for the most part Port is sleeping better, I am too and that helps things tremendously. We aren't going many places these days which makes for stir-crazy kids, but in all things are good. I have about given up on pumping. I am still doing it 2-3 times a day but my supply is going away fast and it is getting to be a nuisance to pump more than anything. When I sit for 30-45 minutes and only come away with 3 ounces of milk I have to question the value of it all. Part of me is screaming to keep it up; start pumping more and getting my supply back up - especially when I have to fork over the $ for a can of formula every 5 days or so. But part of me is also so very tired of it all and really wanting to just stop.


...if it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all...

And, we have taken yet another financial hit. Hubby's company took away next year's bonuses a few weeks ago, but they promised they would come through with the last quarter for this year. Today they announced that the end of year bonuses are not coming either.

I understand, really I do. I mean, we are just terribly lucky Hubby even has a job in this industry. Things could be much, much worse. Things could still get worse. I just wish, well I just wish the hits would quit coming. I don't know how much more we can take.

BUT! [and this is a HUGE but] We have had some good too. We have been blessed with a couple of wonderful gifts - a very, very nice one from the inlaws and a wonderful, thoughtful, generous and kind gift for the boys from a my good friend Julia. The spirit of the holidays is alive and well. It helps me to hold on each day and remain positive of the future. When the people in my life show my family such kindness, it reinforces my belief that all things are in the hand of God - that he put all these people in my life for a very specific reason and that I can rest in the knowledge that He will provide for us everything we need.

We don't have a lot, but we have it all.

With that in mind, I wanted to alert you all to my photography blog. This year, a wonderful photographer, Kristen Kalp of Pennsylvania, challenged the photography community to give back in the spirit of the season. What started out as a simple idea has spread far and wide, and in less than a week more than 90 photographers have joined up and donated photography sessions to those less fortunate.

My friend, Mollie Kendall and I have decided to team up and offer an amazing package as well and we are looking for nominations for our giveaway. I encourage you all to go over to my blog, read the entry and think of someone you know that deserves a gift this year of complimentary custom photography. And if you are not in our area, please visit the Giving Is Awesome website and find a participating photographer near you so that you can nominate someone in your community.

Because even when we don't have much, there is always something we can give. I have been shown the generosity of family, friends and strangers and I am paying it forward. Please help if you can.

Until,
D :)

One Week

Sleep training night number 7:
The boy was up all night. And of course, Hubby wasn't here to help me so I was exhausted and cranky when Kiddo came bouncing into my room this morning.

This was one of those days - the kind that makes me seriously contemplate selling the kids off to the circus or running away by my self to Tahiti. Or Greece. Or Hawaii. Just somewhere far, far away.

I don't want to get into the details of it, but combine my sleepless night with a cranky mood and a four year old who doesn't listen, then add in for flavor a dash or two or three of spilled applesauce, chocolate milk and baby spit up and you have a recipe for disaster. (or the loony bin)

I am so glad this day is about over. Hopefully tonight is a better night. I promise my posts will get more interesting. I just need to get some sleep soon.

Until,
D :(