Let me start off by saying I hate winter. I dislike everything about it. I don't like being cold, I don't like the smell of the house when you first turn the heat on, I hate the heating bill, I hate the germs, I dislike the dry weather, I dislike the snow (okay, the first snow fall is not THAT bad, but after that one, I'm done with it.) I really hate the ice, and I hate the hermit crabs my family will have to become during the winter months.
We have been fortunate this winter as no one has been sick. We have had one ear infection from the baby, and that's it. Nothing major at all. Definitely counting my blessings and thanking God for the good health during what is normally an awful time of year for us. However, I am not sure if I stopped praying about this, or what, but our house is now deemed a disaster zone. Josh is bedridden for hopefully just the day. It is day #2 of feeling like he is dying. Zachary has an awful cough. Tripp is cutting teeth. I realize cutting teeth is not "sick" but the whining is making ME sick. Brennon, who is normally our really sick child, is healthy and happy. He is the only one sleeping worth anything. His skin is doing great. He isn't too whinny. I really can't complain about him at all. Not on this blog anyway. :)
I'm not sure why men are such babies when they get sick. Josh has moaned around the house whining about his throat hurting, his head hurting and everything on his body aching. I've laid every medicine that he could possibly need out so that whatever is hurting, he can take a couple of pills, and it will be gone. Does he? No. They sit there until I stop doing whatever it is I'm doing to take them to him. Like I don't have other things to do. My bedroom now smells like Vicks Vapor Rub, I'm washing sheets every day, and if I pick up one more tissue around this house I may just check myself into the Nut House.
Can someone tell me the fascination with the cabinets in the kitchen? Apparently my children find these very thrilling and are unable to avoid them. I re-organized my lower cabinets (because the children re-organized them first) and within a day they had once again been re-organized by a certain toddler. I don't get it. I'm just throwing in there now, and figuring Tripp will put things where he wants them later that day! My OCD is being tested.
This may be a bit random... sorry!
My beloved "new to me" car that I have had less than 3 weeks is about to die. I dislike transmissions. Why are they so expensive to fix? Someone should really look into building and placing a transmission so that it's easier to fix!! I'm saving and driving it praying I can save enough money up to buy another one before this one bites the dust.
Since I've mentioned a lot of things I dislike in this blog, I'll name a few things that I love.
I LOVE GEORGIA. And I am making a trip "home" in 2 weeks for my brother and sister in law's baby shower that myself and my sister are hosting. Super excited!
Speaking of sisters. I LOVE my sister Alicia. I am awed at her patience. I envy it. Her attitude throughout her adoption journey has been amazing to me. I can't wait until they are able to bring their baby home! She has a website for their adoption journey, please add them and pass the word along!
http://ryanandalicia.webs.com/
A few more of my loves...
Sweet Tea
A Clean Car
Sleeping Babies
Hot Showers
New Underwear
Turkey Wraps
Brownies
Twix Bars
(Can you tell I'm hungry while writing this?)
sorry for the most random blog ever!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
TGIF
This blog may be a bit random. A lot has gone on during this week and instead of posting a new blog for each obstacle I’ve made it through, I’m going to do one blog about them all.
This week has been a rough week. Usually the weeks that I am determined to get a lot accomplished and enjoy every minute of every day are the one’s that are less than enjoyable. On Tuesday Josh and I decided to find a gym. We are both getting fat and need to start exercising to keep the weight from packing on. My step mom found a great deal on a pretty good gym about 20 minutes from the house. While the drive isn’t all to be desired, the gym itself is fairly good, and the child care is AMAZING. My boys had a blast and went to bed without a fight the first night we went. They never woke up during the night, and slept later than normal. Can’t beat that.
As we were running out the door to go to the gym, I let Tripp have part of his older brother cheese sandwich. He’s had dairy before, and he has had the bread before, so I figured it would be fine. He could eat it in the car. At least it would keep him quiet. (He hates the car) We didn’t make it far before we realized the car was making a terrible and unusual noise. We came back to the house, checked the oil, and all the other possibilities, praying for an easy fix. I’m not a car person (I’ll post my blinker fluid story later) so I decided against the 20-minute drive to the gym. Josh thought he would take the car back out and see if he could figure out the problem, so myself and the boys headed for the house. By this time, it’s already dark outside. I get the kids inside and turn on the lights. Tripp’s face is swollen, covered in hives and I can barely see his little eyes. My heart sank to my stomach. I was really hoping and praying that he would not have the same food allergies as Brennon. Apparently, no one in this house can have milk!
We found out last night that our problem with the car is the transmission. I haven’t even got the tag for the car yet and it’s already broke! Geez. It’s still driving right now, but it’s a ticking time bomb. It WILL stop at some point. We are just hoping it holds out long enough for us to find something else. 2011 is not starting out on a great note. I think a lot of people would agree to start this year over already!!
I did manage to get my laundry room organized yesterday. I still need 2-3 more 30 gallon tubs to replace the trash bags of clothes, but it does look A LOT better in there. I’ll post pictures in a little bit. I took before and after pictures for comparison.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Grocery Store
Amazing how the grocery store was enjoyable before children. Now it's a job, a challenge, a dreaded event that you do once a week. Truth is, after kids you go into the store to get food and get out. This is not a social event, and you pray you dont run into anyone you know. With a 4 year old, along with his 2 year old brother and the baby in the carseat throwing food that you just simply can't afford down an isle while you have a "how have you been" conversation with an old friend, does not bring any sort of joy to your life, regardless of what anyone has every told you. Most people go to the produce section first, and work their way back to the frozen food isle, however, after kids, you realize if you shop from the frozen food to produce you will save half the time. You rarely ever get behind the same loafers who obviously do not have children (or those who are smart and left them at home). And your chances of loosing a piece of frozen food that melts between the first isle and the last isle is less than your chances of loosing a child between produce and frozen foods.
If by chance your child escapes the buggy, and grabs a box of cherrios, preceeding in dumping the entire box on isle 6, before you can reach them, calmly walk away, expressing how you can't believe a mother would allow that kind of behavior. Remember, you are walking backwards through the store, so your chances of meeting them along the way are slim. I know what you're thinking... yes, you HAVE to go back and get your child.
The ever so dreaded check out line is the last stop before you lug the kiddo's to the car... which is a battle in itself. I dont know about anyone else but I can see the cashiers eyes get really big when we walk by. The prayers have started. I can almost hear her... "Please God, dont let them come here. Don't let them come here."
I personally try to find a cashier that doesn't see us until we are already in line. By then it's too late and she is trying to make the most of the situation. This is not what she bargined for. She is probably making $6.50 an hour and this is was not in her job description. As children yell and grab candy off the shelf I'm beggin inside and out to please stop. I'm yelling at her in my head to please just hurry. She is there until 9:00 regardless, so she takes her time. The bag boy seems to take joy in the kids and their ability to destroy the checkout candy isle. Little does he know this will at some point more than likely be his life and it's really not as funny living the moment.
The cashier finally rings up the entire order and gives me the total. I'm not sure about the rest of you, but whatever I planned to spend on that trip, was not what she tells me the total is. I, with a deep breath, hand her my debit card. We all proceed to the car. My next adventure for the evening.
I now have a buggy full of bagged groceries, and three children, neither of which can fit in the top or the bottom half of the buggy. Two kids, 1 carseat, and a bag boy who does not look thrilled about wheeling these groceries out to my car. I throw the baby in the car seat on my forearm, grab one hand, and another. Out the door we go.
At this point the bag boy doesn't even ask if I need help. It's a given.
The look from the rest of the store is priceless. I can almost hear the lady at checkout counter #3 thinking,
"Does she know what birth control is?" The nicely dressed lady at checkout counter #2 is thinking "I wonder if they are Catholic?" The man at checkout counter #1 is thinking... "I forgot condoms!!" Nevertheless, we head out the door. We are sure to walk through the crosswalk. Okay, no we aren't. I am only concerned about getting to my car without one of my children bolting out of my arms and into the front of another car passing. I get from A to point B in the quickest way possible. They will stop, right?
We finally make it to the car. The bag boy is loading the groceries into the back, and I am loading kids into the backseat. I count in my head, just to be sure I dont leave one behind. (My aunt has done this. She has 9 children)
Firstborn, check. Middle child, check. Baby, check. By the time I finish buckling children into the car seats, the bag boy is halfway across the parking lot. He saw my total, he knows he isn't getting a tip today. Truth be known, I would have given him my left leg for the help. As I stand by my car, I realize, I made it. I made it through an entire store without loosing a child, or loosing my mind. I am proud. I deserve a sticker, like the ones they give my children when they scream bloody murder during a routine check-up. But the satisfaction of knowing I did this all by myself is enough for me..... Until I open the door to the car... and realize my firstborn pooped in this pants, and the middle child is playing with it.
"Does she know what birth control is?" The nicely dressed lady at checkout counter #2 is thinking "I wonder if they are Catholic?" The man at checkout counter #1 is thinking... "I forgot condoms!!" Nevertheless, we head out the door. We are sure to walk through the crosswalk. Okay, no we aren't. I am only concerned about getting to my car without one of my children bolting out of my arms and into the front of another car passing. I get from A to point B in the quickest way possible. They will stop, right?
We finally make it to the car. The bag boy is loading the groceries into the back, and I am loading kids into the backseat. I count in my head, just to be sure I dont leave one behind. (My aunt has done this. She has 9 children)
Firstborn, check. Middle child, check. Baby, check. By the time I finish buckling children into the car seats, the bag boy is halfway across the parking lot. He saw my total, he knows he isn't getting a tip today. Truth be known, I would have given him my left leg for the help. As I stand by my car, I realize, I made it. I made it through an entire store without loosing a child, or loosing my mind. I am proud. I deserve a sticker, like the ones they give my children when they scream bloody murder during a routine check-up. But the satisfaction of knowing I did this all by myself is enough for me..... Until I open the door to the car... and realize my firstborn pooped in this pants, and the middle child is playing with it.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Because everyone else is doing it...
I'm here, writing a blog. Everyone else is doing it. A close friend of mine recently started her own blog, and after listening to her talk about how much fun she has with it, I figured, it HAS to be more fun than scrubbing my floors. (which is what I should be doing)
Were to start?
I met my husband Josh 5 1/2 years ago through my brother. Actually, I met him when I was in 3rd grade. He lived behind me in the same neighborhood. He swears to this day that I stopped him on his bike and asked him his last name. I then put my first name with his last name and told him it sounded nice, and rode off into the sunset on my bike. I normally would say this was a smooth line, but he has the best memory I have ever seen. Back to 5 1/2 years ago. I was dating a guy who I knew I couldn't see myself with long term. He was one of those really good guys that no one wanted to hurt by saying they weren't happy with him. Josh and my brother were always together, and before long, I started chatting with him on the phone. (No, it's not what you think. We talked about wrestling, movies, and music.) Weeks after, I finally got up the courage to break things off with my then boyfriend. I think I knew right away that Josh was "the one" for me. In past relationship, something always felt forced. With Josh, everything was so natural. I couldn't find anything I didn't like about him. He was there for me during one of the hardest times in my life. I was at the end of my Lupron injections. For those who are unfamiliar with this drug, it's awful! I have severe endrometrosis, and doctors thought putting my body through pre-menopause would help my constant pain. It did help, but it made me twice as mean as I was before. Once I realized Josh wasn't leaving while I was the devil, I knew I had a keeper. We were married on December 10, 2005 after 5 months of dating.
And so the story of Zachary begins...
When I was 14, I was told because of my endrometrosis, carrying a child would be difficult, if not impossible. While I ovulated fine, my uterus was too weak to carry a child full term. At 14, this was devastating. As I got older, and more medicine for my situation become available, I had high hopes that something could be done. After many many specialists, I found Dr. Bailey. He was my hero. He never once told me I couldn't have children, like past doctors had done. He did say it would be difficult, but not impossible. He would talk to me on the phone during many of my hot flashes at work. (Yes, I called him during almost every one) I would be outside in the freezing cold, stripping off clothes without a care. I was hot. And I don't like to be hot. I would cuss at him and call him names, and he calmly reminded me of the reasons behind the shots. I am very thankful for him. I came off my Lupron injections in Aug. Within a month, I knew the endrometrosis was back to it's old tricks. I was in pain again. I went back to Dr. Bailey, and we talked about a hysterectomy. I couldn't deal with the pain anymore. I was ready for it.
Before I could have the hysterectomy, I conceived Zachary. I found out at 5:00 in the morning. I froze. I woke Josh up, and still in shock, told him I was pregnant. Josh, being Josh, only responded "I told you so." and went back to sleep. HOW CAN YOU SLEEP RIGHT NOW? Did he not hear me correctly? I was more awake than I had ever been in my life. All the visions of talking to doctor's who said I wouldn't be able to carry a child full term were rushing through my head like lightening.I had so much happiness at that moment but, it was followed by fear. I prayed for God to let me keep this child, carry him full term and experience being a mother. That's all I ever wanted. To be a mother. I couldn't fathom God giving me this taste of motherhood only to take it away from me before I could meet him or her. I prayed everyday of my pregnancy with Zachary.
And on a beautiful day in June, after 17 1/2 hours of labor, and an epidural that was no loner working,, and a shoulder dystocia, Zachary was born. 8 pounds 7 ounces, a 100% perfect. He has been a joy to my life in more ways than I could ever imagine. He is a spitting imagine of his daddy. He is a feisty little firecracker. With a memory like his daddy, he reminds me of everything. He loves video games, being outside, wrestling, swimming, action hero's, and his baby brother Brennon.
Zachary was 6 months old when I found out I was pregnant with Brennon. (For those people who are Mathematically inclined, they are 14 months apart) It was a bit of a shock. I was scared. I still had my sanity with 1 child, but I knew with 2, it wouldn't last long. My pregnancy with Brennon was a pretty smooth one. He loved his rib cage, and would take his tiny toes and perfectly placed them between each rib cage, so that breathing was made very difficult and quite painful. My pregnancy with him seemed to fly by. On a beautiful day in Sept, Brennon made his arrival. He was born about as graceful as his older brother. I was in labor for 16 hours when at midnight, they made the decision to do an emergency c-section due to a constant dip in his heart rate. We found out after the c-section that the cord was wrapped around his neck twice. He too was perfect. He reminded me of my Papa. He looked so much like him! Of course, now he looks like his older brother. I still see some of me in him. Or at least, I like to think so. :) He makes some of the funniest faces. He can go from serious to laughing in a matter of seconds.I predict Brennon will be some sort of stand up comedian when he's older. Brennon loves yo gabba gabba, cars, pretend anything, and his baby brother Tripp.
Tripp was a total shock. I think even more than Brennon's pregnancy. Brennon was a year and a half old, and I guess I had become used to not being pregnant. I was sick every night about the same time. Because it wasn't in the morning, I had no idea it could be morning sickness. After a couple of weeks of throwing up at 9:00pm every night, I had Josh run out and pick up a test. Immediately it came up positive. I was so sad. Not because I wasn't happy about the pregnancy, but because I knew my sister who had been trying to get pregnant with no success would not understand why I was having ANOTHER ONE. See, my sister has become my best friend. I cried, not because of the pregnancy, but because I was afraid of hurting her with the news. She was the first person I told. And like the big sister she is, she told me she was happy for me, even though I knew it broke her heart. I know she wasn't mad at me for having another one, but deep down, I knew that feeling that she had. (Remember, I was told I couldn't have kids at one time to. I know the feeling you get when you hear a friend or family member is pregnant. You go back to all the times that you were told you couldn't have kids, or saw only 1 line on the pregnancy test. No fun.) I started to go into pre-term labor due to stress at work around 30 weeks. The medicine I was put on to stop the contractions worked, and the rest of the pregnancy was a breeze. In fact, it was such an easy pregnancy, I worked up until 3 hours of being admitted into the hospital. Almost 13 hours later, Tripp was born. It was an icky day outside. Rainy, and cold. But, he was a breath of sunshine in that hospital. Tripp was a VBAC. (Vaginal Delivery after C-Section) Most doctor wont do them anymore. But my wonderful Dr. Bailey, was 100% with me on my desire to have one. I never want another c-section. My VBAC was perfect. No complications, and this time, my epidural worked! Tripp is my little monkey, who loves to climb on everything. His favorite possession? His moo-moo's. (13+ month nursing champ) Tripp also loves his baby sister.... no just kidding. That's all the kiddo's. So far.
I didn't intend for this blog to be so long, and I apologize if you fell asleep during it. I wish I could promise clever blogs that keep you entertained all day, but I'm afraid I'm not that clever of a writer. Perhaps tomorrow I can find something interesting to blog about... with 3 boys it shouldn't be that hard... right?
Were to start?
I met my husband Josh 5 1/2 years ago through my brother. Actually, I met him when I was in 3rd grade. He lived behind me in the same neighborhood. He swears to this day that I stopped him on his bike and asked him his last name. I then put my first name with his last name and told him it sounded nice, and rode off into the sunset on my bike. I normally would say this was a smooth line, but he has the best memory I have ever seen. Back to 5 1/2 years ago. I was dating a guy who I knew I couldn't see myself with long term. He was one of those really good guys that no one wanted to hurt by saying they weren't happy with him. Josh and my brother were always together, and before long, I started chatting with him on the phone. (No, it's not what you think. We talked about wrestling, movies, and music.) Weeks after, I finally got up the courage to break things off with my then boyfriend. I think I knew right away that Josh was "the one" for me. In past relationship, something always felt forced. With Josh, everything was so natural. I couldn't find anything I didn't like about him. He was there for me during one of the hardest times in my life. I was at the end of my Lupron injections. For those who are unfamiliar with this drug, it's awful! I have severe endrometrosis, and doctors thought putting my body through pre-menopause would help my constant pain. It did help, but it made me twice as mean as I was before. Once I realized Josh wasn't leaving while I was the devil, I knew I had a keeper. We were married on December 10, 2005 after 5 months of dating.
And so the story of Zachary begins...
When I was 14, I was told because of my endrometrosis, carrying a child would be difficult, if not impossible. While I ovulated fine, my uterus was too weak to carry a child full term. At 14, this was devastating. As I got older, and more medicine for my situation become available, I had high hopes that something could be done. After many many specialists, I found Dr. Bailey. He was my hero. He never once told me I couldn't have children, like past doctors had done. He did say it would be difficult, but not impossible. He would talk to me on the phone during many of my hot flashes at work. (Yes, I called him during almost every one) I would be outside in the freezing cold, stripping off clothes without a care. I was hot. And I don't like to be hot. I would cuss at him and call him names, and he calmly reminded me of the reasons behind the shots. I am very thankful for him. I came off my Lupron injections in Aug. Within a month, I knew the endrometrosis was back to it's old tricks. I was in pain again. I went back to Dr. Bailey, and we talked about a hysterectomy. I couldn't deal with the pain anymore. I was ready for it.
Before I could have the hysterectomy, I conceived Zachary. I found out at 5:00 in the morning. I froze. I woke Josh up, and still in shock, told him I was pregnant. Josh, being Josh, only responded "I told you so." and went back to sleep. HOW CAN YOU SLEEP RIGHT NOW? Did he not hear me correctly? I was more awake than I had ever been in my life. All the visions of talking to doctor's who said I wouldn't be able to carry a child full term were rushing through my head like lightening.I had so much happiness at that moment but, it was followed by fear. I prayed for God to let me keep this child, carry him full term and experience being a mother. That's all I ever wanted. To be a mother. I couldn't fathom God giving me this taste of motherhood only to take it away from me before I could meet him or her. I prayed everyday of my pregnancy with Zachary.
And on a beautiful day in June, after 17 1/2 hours of labor, and an epidural that was no loner working,, and a shoulder dystocia, Zachary was born. 8 pounds 7 ounces, a 100% perfect. He has been a joy to my life in more ways than I could ever imagine. He is a spitting imagine of his daddy. He is a feisty little firecracker. With a memory like his daddy, he reminds me of everything. He loves video games, being outside, wrestling, swimming, action hero's, and his baby brother Brennon.
Zachary was 6 months old when I found out I was pregnant with Brennon. (For those people who are Mathematically inclined, they are 14 months apart) It was a bit of a shock. I was scared. I still had my sanity with 1 child, but I knew with 2, it wouldn't last long. My pregnancy with Brennon was a pretty smooth one. He loved his rib cage, and would take his tiny toes and perfectly placed them between each rib cage, so that breathing was made very difficult and quite painful. My pregnancy with him seemed to fly by. On a beautiful day in Sept, Brennon made his arrival. He was born about as graceful as his older brother. I was in labor for 16 hours when at midnight, they made the decision to do an emergency c-section due to a constant dip in his heart rate. We found out after the c-section that the cord was wrapped around his neck twice. He too was perfect. He reminded me of my Papa. He looked so much like him! Of course, now he looks like his older brother. I still see some of me in him. Or at least, I like to think so. :) He makes some of the funniest faces. He can go from serious to laughing in a matter of seconds.I predict Brennon will be some sort of stand up comedian when he's older. Brennon loves yo gabba gabba, cars, pretend anything, and his baby brother Tripp.
Tripp was a total shock. I think even more than Brennon's pregnancy. Brennon was a year and a half old, and I guess I had become used to not being pregnant. I was sick every night about the same time. Because it wasn't in the morning, I had no idea it could be morning sickness. After a couple of weeks of throwing up at 9:00pm every night, I had Josh run out and pick up a test. Immediately it came up positive. I was so sad. Not because I wasn't happy about the pregnancy, but because I knew my sister who had been trying to get pregnant with no success would not understand why I was having ANOTHER ONE. See, my sister has become my best friend. I cried, not because of the pregnancy, but because I was afraid of hurting her with the news. She was the first person I told. And like the big sister she is, she told me she was happy for me, even though I knew it broke her heart. I know she wasn't mad at me for having another one, but deep down, I knew that feeling that she had. (Remember, I was told I couldn't have kids at one time to. I know the feeling you get when you hear a friend or family member is pregnant. You go back to all the times that you were told you couldn't have kids, or saw only 1 line on the pregnancy test. No fun.) I started to go into pre-term labor due to stress at work around 30 weeks. The medicine I was put on to stop the contractions worked, and the rest of the pregnancy was a breeze. In fact, it was such an easy pregnancy, I worked up until 3 hours of being admitted into the hospital. Almost 13 hours later, Tripp was born. It was an icky day outside. Rainy, and cold. But, he was a breath of sunshine in that hospital. Tripp was a VBAC. (Vaginal Delivery after C-Section) Most doctor wont do them anymore. But my wonderful Dr. Bailey, was 100% with me on my desire to have one. I never want another c-section. My VBAC was perfect. No complications, and this time, my epidural worked! Tripp is my little monkey, who loves to climb on everything. His favorite possession? His moo-moo's. (13+ month nursing champ) Tripp also loves his baby sister.... no just kidding. That's all the kiddo's. So far.
I didn't intend for this blog to be so long, and I apologize if you fell asleep during it. I wish I could promise clever blogs that keep you entertained all day, but I'm afraid I'm not that clever of a writer. Perhaps tomorrow I can find something interesting to blog about... with 3 boys it shouldn't be that hard... right?
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