and today was a good day

today was just one of those days when nothing seems to go right, and today was a good day. it all began as i started my morning cleaning up mouse poo in my kitchen. at first i thought they were strange little crumbs that jason left behind, until i started finding them in different places. then it dawned on me. and i went into a cleaning frenzy, even though my kitchen was already clean. it's during times like these when i reevaluate the credibility of disney. i don't care how amazing of a chef remy is, never ever in my life would i ever eat food prepared by a rat. period.

so today, i was making a trip to the grocery store for food and mousetraps. while i was getting the diaper bag ready, riley was walking around with her morning snack dropping goldfish crumbs in various spots around the house. as i headed back up to riley's room to grab some more size 4 diapers, i stepped on one, leaving a heap of crumbs at the bottom of the stairs. as i thought about the little treat i had now gift-wrapped for our furry little friend, i was distracted enough to forget the diapers.

as we pulled out of the drive, i decided to give jason a call to see if he needed anything from the store, and my phone wouldn't dial. awesome. so, i made a "quick detour" over to jason's office to have him fix whatever setting he messed with. it was close to lunchtime, so hopefully we wouldn't be interrupting anything important. i took my chances on getting in without jason expecting us (they have security doors with card-swipe entry). we managed to get through the gate, but riley lost it when the door she wanted was locked and we couldn't get to daddy. so i "snuck into" the office with a toddler throwing a tantrum. two-year-olds...

long story short: we ended up going to lunch with daddy and some work friends after he heard her from another level in the building and came to the rescue. before we could even order our food at the restaurant, riley spilled water on her shirt. of course, now it was "yucky" and we had to pull it off. remember those little signs they post in public places that say, "shirt and shoes required"? i went out to the car and found a 12-month size sweater i had pulled off of samantha after it had warmed up that morning. although riley barely touched her food, we somehow managed to get through lunch without much fuss. but as we walked out to load the girls in the car, we noticed a nail in my front right tire, which totally made up for it.

we waved goodbye to daddy and finally headed over to walmart since i wasn't sure they even sold mousetraps at the grocery store. any of you with young children realize how much of a hassle it is to make more than one stop, especially when they are tired and fussy. all of that unbuckling, unloading, toting, and reloading is a pain. in. the. b-u-t-t.

before i could get riley into the cart, we suffered a serious diaper malfunction. pee leaked down her pants and into her shoe. i stripped them off to change her diaper, and reached into the diaper bag only to find that there were no size 4 diapers. so here my child sits in a sweatshirt half her size, a diaper two sizes too small, no pants, and no socks or shoes. (at least it wasn't 50 degrees out like it had been the day before). fearful i might wind up on peopleofwalmart.com, i bit the bullet and walked into that store feeling like the biggest white trash mom. thankfully, riley was being good in the store. i can only imagine how it would have amplified the situation had she been screaming and flailing all over the buggy. i can already feel the judgmental looks from the childless adults who crossed our path. anyone with kids knows that it's impossible to "control" a tired and hungry toddler.

after i managed to drag myself through those huge automatic double doors, i darted to the back of the store and managed to find the mousetraps without too much rummaging. i decided to go ahead and get the groceries i needed so i wouldn't have to embarrass myself at another store make another stop, only to realize i had left my list in the car. obviously. so i ran through each aisle, grabbing whatever i could remember while wrestling a squirmy little girl who wanted to walk. do i need to remind you what she was (or was not) wearing? i would have hid her in the diaper bag if i thought she would fit. there was no way i was going to let her walk around walmart without shoes. or pants. or in a tiny diaper and baby sweatshirt. i can confirm that i will not be receiving the mother-of-the-year award. needless to say, i gave up and hurried home for naps, having only scratched about three things off of my grocery list...only to have a certain little someone skip her nap! sigh...don't worry, i waved goodbye to my sanity a long time ago.

because i hadn't completed my grocery-shopping mission, i decided on BLTs for dinner since we had all of the ingredients. or so i thought. technically, we did have all of the ingredients, but we both ended up eating the heals of two different loaves of bread since that's all we had left. so they were skimpy BLTs. but whatever. after a day like today, i'm thankful we even had anything to eat.

so the girls are in bed, the kitchen is clean, the mousetraps are set, and we are cuddled up on the couch not even five minutes into our movie, when SNAP! off goes a mousetrap. i'm so stoked about not having to clean up mouse poo anymore that i don't even think about the fact that this isn't a cartoon. i've never had to actually use a mousetrap before in real life, except for the little plastic cage one on the board game and to make a little car in high school science. please take into account that i am a big fat pushover for cute little critters. i wasn't thrilled about the concept of killing a mouse, but i was not prepared to clean up mouse poo for the rest of my life. i did what had to be done. and let me just say that it was quite disturbing. i'll probably have nightmares about that stupid little mouse tonight.

well, at least something went right today. i'd say it's a pretty sad day when the only thing that went right was killing something, but i'll take whatever i can get. so...all in all, i'd say it was a pretty good day.

change

You've opened the cylinder, ejected the cases, and unloaded a revolver. Imagine putting it up to your head and feeling the cold metal pressing against your skin. Even though you know there is no chance of it killing you, pulling the trigger can be terrifying.

That's how I feel now. I know God is in control and this change isn't going to kill me, but I didn't think it would be this scary.

My husband lost his job last week. Well, technically, they offered to transfer him to a different branch within the company, but they "let him go" nonetheless. We were given the choice between five different options, none of them perfect and all involving some type of risk.

Want to hear something funny? For the past few months, I've actually wanted this. I was tempted to ask my husband to just quit so we could find something better. It's funny because I always think I know better, but the reality is that I don't. God knows what He's doing. The hard part for me is letting Him do it. I don't like being told what to do, especially when it's something I don't want to do. I also thought that once we got to this point, it would be easy. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I prayed and waited for three long and lonely years to get out of California. We lived in an 800 sq. ft. duplex with really thin walls and really loud neighbors. There was no yard. There was a lot to do and all of it close to home, so, although difficult, life there was a lot of fun at times, too. When we got the opportunity to move to North Carolina, we jumped on it.

We went from a tiny concrete prison to a two bedroom house right outside the city limits on half an acre...for half the price we were paying in California! We visited two churches before we found our home. It was like love at first sight (not that the appearance of the church is what captured our hearts). I remember one evening right after we moved in, driving to the grocery store and seeing the sunset over all the fields and grass and trees and knowing I was going to be very happy here.

It's one thing packing up your lives and saying goodbye when you aren't very happy. It's quite another thing walking away when you're in love. In the past few weeks, I started looking into the possibility of buying a house and settling down. We went from browsing homes to browsing jobs in a matter of days. It's like God saw that I was trying to get comfortable and yanked the rug right out from under my feet without warning. I never saw it coming.

I must say that I am extremely thankful to even have options in as tough of an industry as aviation and in a terrible economy on top of that, but I can't help but be a little resentful that, just as we are building close friendships and establishing a support system, we have to go somewhere new and start all over again.

So, this is where I am. I'm sitting on the front step outside of a home filled with all of my closest friends. The door is closed and the path in front of me has branched out in about ten different directions in the dark. Only a few of the paths are lit, so I know that those are probably the safest options, but I can't see around the bends or over the hills down the paths.

I am just sitting here waiting. Waiting for a sign to tell me which way to go. Waiting for God to come carry me because I can't make the journey alone. I have been tempted to just choose the one that's looks the nicest to me and hope for the best, but I know that's too risky. It would most likely end in one of two ways. I would either choose the wrong path and have to turn back several times to try another after realizing I went the wrong way, or I could fight through all of the obstacles trying to make it work, dragging my family behind me.

I just picture myself going for a walk with my husband and two young daughters. We go down the path that I selfishly chose, throwing caution to the wind because this is what I want. We end up lost, climbing over boulders, trudging through mud pits, getting caught up in thorny vines that cut us with each painful step. We would all be miserable, my family would resent me, and I would feel like an idiot for thinking I knew the way.

In the long run, I think having a little patience and putting my trust in God would save us a lot of heartache. I'm just waiting for my heart to catch up with my head, because I know what I need to do...I just don't want to do it! I will admit, though, it will be a much nicer journey walking down the path holding Jesus's hand and enjoying the scenery than having Him drag me kicking and screaming the whole way.

hot

disclaimer: this is not a rant about my husband. it is simply a collection of thoughts on modesty and creepers.

are all men perverts? is it possible to smile or be friendly with a man, and not have kindness be mistaken for flirting or a proposal to sleep together?

which brings me to another point. it's not always the men's fault. men are designed to be attracted to women. plain and simple. you can't be a thread away from nudity and not expect a man to not have sexual thoughts. (double negatives can be so confusing).

i'll admit that, as a woman, i sometimes feel a bit of a competitive urge when it comes to my clothing and appearance. i want to feel hot when i'm out in public. i am from texas, and i do like the sun, but, by hot, i mean sexy. <--check all="" commas.="" out="" p="" those="">

what many girls/women do not realize and i am having to constantly remind myself of is that, even though their choice in clothing may have gotten the attention of their prime target (aka "mr. right" or, in my case, my husband), it usually also gets the attention of mr. wrong and mr. way wrong, too.

i'm sure you can think back to at least one time in your life, where another girl got more attention because she was wearing less. remember the way it made you feel to have your man look at another woman that way next time you are getting dressed. you may be causing someone's husband, daddy, brother, or son to sin! you are hurting someone's wife, daughter, or sister!

there are certainly things that a mother should just not wear (partly because it just doesn't look as good as it did pre-baby), but also because she is a mother. we need to set examples for our daughters, who are living in a society where they are constantly being bombarded by sex. i want my girls to know that they can be beautiful without being "sexy." and i certainly do not want the boys getting any wild ideas. remember the padded bikinis for girls at abercrombie&fitch last year? never. in. my. life. don't even ask me about some of the stuff i've seen people put on their babies. well, maybe ask a little. two words. high heels. yes, for babies. don't believe me? check it out. need another example? bikinis for babies.

i'm not exactly sure where i'm going with all of this. all i know is that it isn't fair to anyone involved when a woman wears revealing clothing. it's like inviting an alcoholic to a wine-tasting party. it just isn't fair to the few good men out there who actually do try to guard their eyes, and it isn't fair to the women married to the men who don't. remember, you're not just catching the eye of prince charming. there are a lot of fat, old, disgusting perverts, creepers, pedophiles, and rapists watching you and your babies, too.

poopoo poopoo, what do you see? i see a toddler staring at me.

okay. so, i don't know if my kid has just gotten to that age - if this is pretty normal - or if she's just really weird. then i wonder, if it is normal, is it usually a boy thing, or is it all kids? are only potty training children at risk? i can tell your curiosity is beginning to pique.

ever since i showed riley her dirty diaper in an effort to convince her to let me change it, she has had this preoccupation with inspecting poop. her poop ("mommy, i make a brown poopoo" or "riley made a big poopoo!), samantha's poop (to which she proudly exclaims, "mom, it's a yellow poop!"), and daddy's poop. she doesn't inspect mine because we all know mommies don't poop. (my husband would beg to differ). moving along...

we are not allowed to flush or close the diaper before she's had a chance to take a peak. my husband also recently taught her that "c" is for "caca". couldn't we have stuck with something easy like cookie, cat, cow, candy or clown? there are a lot of acceptable alternatives. i understand the need for reinforcing the french language, but we've already got enough poop to deal with. (while we're on the subject, did you know that the french word for boogers literally translates as "nose poop"?) it's probably a really good thing we don't have cats anymore. at least we've gotten over the hurdle of "it's poopoo on it" anytime something is dirty and needs to be wiped clean or washed.

so, is it just my daughter or is this pretty prevalent among the toddler community?

the Lord's work

Colossians 3:23 says, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." It's sometimes hard to remember that during those times when nothing seems to go right. On those days when Riley messes whatever I clean, she screams for no reason, I don't get to shower, when my all is just not good enough, or even a good day when no one is there to tell me thank you or acknowledge the time and love I have poured into caring for two small children.

It's times like these that I have to step back from the mess or screaming and remind myself that "this too shall pass." My girls won't always be little. There will always be a mess to clean. And even when I spend an entire day treading water, I am thankful for the daily reminders of God's love for me through the tiny miracles I experience everyday. Whether it's seeing my babies' smiles or hearing them giggle, a hug or kiss, the pitter-patter of little feet running through the house, my two year old praying and thanking God for Mommy (even though I was yelling at her two minutes ago), and watching them learn about the world our God created.

These are just a few reminders that my job, though perhaps not glamorous, is important. And no matter how often my gestures of love go unnoticed, what I'm doing makes a difference. Although I have to wash the dishes twice a day, the laundry never ends, my two year old refuses to eat the food I cook or seems demon-possessed, my husband is gone for days at a time, and I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown, I dig down deep and pray for the strength to get through another day on the baby battlefield. I pray that, while my heart is pounding, teeth clenched, and lips pursed, I have the patience to deal with another tantrum without losing my temper. I pray for the energy to prepare another meal that only I will eat (and another meal that meets a toddler's standards, sort of). I pray for the strength to manage a household while my husband is away from home working hard to bring home the bacon. And, at night, when the girls are sleeping and the house is quiet, I thank God that we survived another day! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and remember that God is with me and loves me and sees the work that I am doing at home to further His kingdom.

redeemed

i came across this poem i wrote several years ago and thought i'd share it with y'all. enjoy! :)

i raised my arms up to the sky

and slowly as the clouds rolled by

the tears streaked down and raindrops ran

and blended with the blood on my hand

the puddles formed beneath my feet

then all the angels began to weep

my eyes were on heaven, His eyes were on me

i lost myself and fell on my knees

then down on my face and calling on Him

i begged that He take back all of my sin

"let me go back, turn back the clock,"

i begged and i pleaded, "please God make it stop!

the pain of it all, is this how it feels

for the ones whom you love to deny your appeals?

i'm sorry i sinned and killed you again

god please, oh please, take away all my sin

i need to start over, please give me that

i need a clean slate since i cannot go back."

the sunshine is covered by all of the clouds

and i'm still praying and crying out loud

my blood is covered by the blood that He gave

and i thanked God that even my soul could be saved

as the blood on the ground washed away with the rain

the clouds soon faded along with my pain

i rose to my feet and raised my arms to the sky

as the sunshine beamed down and the scarlet turned white

my eyes were soon dried and the puddles receded

all of my heartache and wounds had been treated

for He is the one who forgives everything

and taking it back was not as hard as it seemed

confessions

1. i do not like lunch meat, cauliflower, or lamb.

2. i hate spiders, but i will pick up a granddaddy long legs because i know they can't bite me.

3. i fell out of a truck the summer after i graduated from high school. it took nearly a year for the scars on my face to fade.

4. i got in a fight with a boy in fifth grade and didn't get in trouble. his teacher came into my classroom after recess and told me thank you!

5. i won the spelling bee in fifth grade but never learned how to do long division (still don't). i almost had to do a lesson on it when i was student teaching and panicked!

6. i don't like to be just good at something. i want to be the best. i lettered in five sports in high school (volleyball, basketball, soccer, track and cross country). i was named first team in volleyball my second year ever playing. i made first team and all east texas team in basketball my senior year. i was the only girl on the boys' varsity soccer team. in college soccer, i made first team my sophomore, junior, and senior years and conference co-mvp and letourneau's student athlete of the year my senior year.

7. i went to play basketball and majored in pre-med at ut dallas my freshman year of college. i left after my first semester, took a few months off, then went to play soccer and major in early childhood education at letourneau the next fall.

8. i worked at disneyland in fantasyland for nearly 6 months when we lived in california.

9. i am still a total tomboy. i'd take a gun, fishing rod, 4-wheeler, or ball any day over shoes, purses, makeup, and shopping.

10. i think i am one of the only women in the world unhappy about being skinny. i am always trying to gain weight, even when i'm pregnant. the most i have ever weighed (other than during pregnancy) was 120.

11. i gained 35 lbs. during both of my pregnancies. i lost 40 after i had riley.

12. jason is the only person who i will let see me cry, and even that doesn't happen very often.

13. josh turner is my celebrity crush.

14. i cancelled last minute for my first date with jason. it was a double date and he ended up being the third wheel. i guess he forgave me :)

15. in high school i told my friends that i would never live to be thirty. that's just over two years away, and now i pray that i will live to see my grandkids turn thirty :)

16. i have on old blog from college. you can find it here.

17. i do not drink coffee...yet. but then i do want more kids, so...

18. i have been to 7 countries and 25 US states (not including airport connections).

19. we didn't find out if riley was a boy or a girl when i was pregnant, and we didn't have a boy name picked out. we still couldn't agree on a boy name when i got pregnant with samantha. good thing they were both girls.

20. my mom is the only one among her siblings who hasn't been divorced. another good thing.

21. i flipped off a teacher in high school because i thought he would think it was funny. he didn't.

22. spring is now officially my favorite season. i love the blooms, fireflies, warm rains and thunderstorms.

23. in the 20 years i participated in contact sports, the worst injury i sustained was a concussion and bursted blood vessels inside my eye (i was temporarily blinded in one eye). i have never broken any bones in or out of sports (i did dislocate a bone in my hand/wrist after the truck fall, though). oh, and i sprained an ankle once playing intramural flag football.

24. i like the smell and taste of bananas but won't eat them because i don't like the texture.

did you learn anything new about me?

there is only so much...

there is only so much one can take. yes, i do cherish my sleep. and yes, i do know that you are supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps. but seriously...there is only so much one can take! there are a limited number of times that i am willing to step over a pile of laundry. i can only handle sitting on a crumb-covered couch for so long. not to mention that it's ant season! don't even get me started on the dishes. you know when you pile them on one side of the sink to soak? and you know how, after you haven't gotten to those, you start to stack dishes on the other side? and then you know how you can't even use your kitchen sink because there are too many disgusting dirty dishes (that by the point, you're almost not even willing to touch, let alone put your hands in that nasty water) in the way? yeah, don't even get me started on the dishes...oh and diapers. let me tell you about the diapers. they're everywhere. i think we have one trash can in our house, and it's in our bathroom. let me break it down for you:

1. during the middle of the night, sam's diapers get changed in our bed, and they get tossed on the floor. by the time we get up for breakfast, there's a nice pile of 3 or 4 (sometimes more) diapers.
2. in the morning, riley's diaper gets changed either on her floor before breakfast or on the couch after breakfast, so the diaper usually ends up either in the hallway or on the living room floor.
3. during the day, diapers get changed wherever we happen to be, which is, 9 times out of 10, in the living room.

depending on how fussy sam is being or how busy i am chasing riley around, these diapers may or may not sit in their designated spots until i can get to them and dispose of them properly. the kiddos get put on hold if riley poops. those diapers can't be left sitting around to marinate. it's just not safe. you may think that it would save me a lot of trouble if i would just put the clothes in the hamper, have riley eat only at the table, and invest in a few more trash cans. you would be wrong. have you ever left wet clothes in a hamper for an extended amount of time? it ain't pretty, and it doesn't smell pretty, either. have you ever left a 2 year-old alone at a table to eat? yeah, that one isn't much fun, either. food ends up everywhere but in her belly. have you ever had to empty a trashcan that's been collecting diapers for a few days/weeks? trust me, my friend. you don't want to. that's all i can say. it's easier this way.

so, that is why, my friends, i sometimes do without a nap, because there is only so much one can take. besides...i can sleep tomorrow.

baby girl's birthday

for those of you who want to know, this is a short recap of the events leading up to and immediately following the birth of our second daughter. as for the rest of you, read it or don't. whatever.

i had been having braxton hicks since my first trimester, so some deep maternal instinct told me this baby would come much earlier than my first. don't always listen to your gut. to give you a little background, my parents drove 17 hours straight from texas overnight to get here 4 days earlier than planned because we just knew she was going to come ahead of schedule. well, she didn't. four days passed with no clear indication of an impending labor. we walked. i carried big girl around like a mule. i juggled a soccer ball around with my husband (i bet that was a sight). we played bocce ball. i walked more. i had a checkup on friday morning, and after wrestling with the thought of rushing her arrival, we decided to let the doctor rupture my membranes to help me along. i was at 3 and 50% effaced at this point. my dad almost gave up and went home on saturday to get home in time (and somewhat rested) for work on monday, but we convinced him to stay just one more day. it payed off! and now, here is the labor story...

around 7pm saturday, i started getting regular contractions. when i first began timing them, they were about every 3-5 minutes but not painful at all. my mom kept trying to kick me out the door, but i didn't think i was in labor, and even if i was, there was no point in spending all night laboring in the hospital. after an hour or so, i called the doctor's office to see what they thought. in the meantime, i fed big girl dinner, gave her a bath, read books with her and got her ready for bed. even though i was in a little bit of denial, i knew these were the final precious moments with just one daughter. it was very bittersweet and i will cherish that time i had with her forever. we rocked and said our bedtime prayers, and i gave her big hugs and kisses before putting her to bed.

another hour and a half passed, and i had yet to hear back from the doctor's office. so we made the decision to just go. we loaded up the car, called the babysitter, and headed to the hospital. by this point, my contractions were about every 2-3 minutes and starting to get a bit stronger but still not big. i still wasn't fully convinced that this was it. we parked and checked in, answering a lot of questions (we'll come back to this later). when they got us in upstairs, i was at 4 and 70% effaced, so we walked the halls for about an hour and a half. i wanted to walk, but i wanted to lie down, but i wanted to stand, but i wanted to sit. nothing was comfortable. the nurse asked us most of the same questions we had already answered at check-in, but i wasn't in excruciating pain yet so i wasn't too annoyed. after our walk, the nurse violently checked me. i had dilated to 5. she stepped out of the room a few seconds later, and my water broke! it was so loud, top gun heard it over the monitor! the contractions started to get serious after that. it was gut-wrenching, but it earned us a spot in a delivery room! so they moved me...

when we got into our room, they started hooking me up to all the monitors and IVs. the nurse there asked me all of the same questions i had already answered twice! i was so mad at that woman i wanted to kick her. why do they ask you questions when you're enduring the agony of childbirth?? the worst part is your husband isn't allowed to answer them for you...what kinda hotel is this? anyways, after mumbling a few choice words and giving her the evil eye, i decided i'd had enough. it had been 6 hours (39 weeks, actually), and i was still at 5. who knew how much longer i would suffer? well, it would only be about 45 minutes...

i thought the anesthesiologist would never get there. 20 long minutes after i put in my request, sweet relief came dripping down in liquid form. ahhh, praise the Lord for modern medicine! after that, the nurse and i were best buds! not too long after the epidural was administered, i felt a bit of pressure that i remembered having when riley was born. we called in the nurse, and since i had just been at 5, she didn't check me. she said to just let her know if it continued or got stronger. the second she stepped out of the room, i looked at top gun and told him to get her back in there! she came over and said, "oh! there she is! you're going to have a baby now!" everyone came in and got ready, i pushed a few times, and there she was!

at 2:16am, i held our second perfect, beautiful, and healthy 8 lb. 1 oz., 20.25 in. long daughter for the first time. i was in love!

the next morning, big girl came to the hospital to meet her new baby sister. the first words out of her mouth were, "no! don't want it!" it took her three days to touch her, and she also kissed her on the head without us prompting her. she is slowly warming up, but most of the time ignores her. she will bring us things like blankets and diapers to help out, which i love. a few days ago when baby girl was crying, she patted her on the leg and said, "it's okay, samantha." she made one attempt at playing blocks with her baby sister and put in a request to take a bath together, but it hasn't taken much for her to realize she is much too small and incapable for now.

for now we are still getting up about three times every night, but i am trying to focus on the positive and enjoy my blessings while i can. i know that pretty soon they will be too big to give momma hugs and kisses. they grow up so fast...

i wanna wear my cleats

i miss soccer. i miss playing in the warm rain and squishing around the field in my soggy cleats. i miss the blistering feeling on my lips while playing in the dry heat. i miss the foggy humid morning practices and the muggy friday nights under the lights. i miss the smell of fresh cut grass and sweat and dirt and the taste of salt dripping down my face. i miss shin guard tan lines and training hard. i miss the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net, teammates, tackling, road trips, sun burns, and fighting hard to be the best. i miss it all.

the final stretch!

i hit my 38 week mark today, and it's really starting to hit me how our lives are going to be changing very soon! baby girl has been overflowing with love and giggles and cuddles and kisses and cuteness and playfulness for the past few days, and i have really been treasuring what little time is left with only one daughter.

last night hit me really hard with the realization that it's not just my life that will be changing, but my sweet little girl's whole world will turn upside down. she has had momma all to herself for over two years now, and a baby sister means sharing an overwhelmingly large amount of momma. as excited as i am to meet my second daughter, i'm also slightly afraid of the toll bringing home a new baby will take on her. all i can do is prepare myself for sharing my time, love, and attention with two children and their daddy...and hopefully squeeze in a little me time every now and then, too.

i am praying for the courage, strength, and energy i will need to care for a newborn and toddler through the early days, weeks, and months of sleep deprivation...especially when daddy has trips and is gone for a week or two at a time and it's all on momma! it's nice to know that we have a handful of trustworthy friends nearby that i can call if i start to lose my marbles!

ready or not...

i am ready. i am so ready to be not pregnant anymore...not so sure if i'm ready to take care of a newborn through all hours of the night and spend the whole next day chasing around a two-year-old...but definitely ready to be normal again. i mean, as normal as one can be postpartum...which really isn't that normal when you think about it. but at least i will be able to lie on my back again. at least i will be able to cuddle my husband without this huge bump in between us. at least i will be able to breathe again. of course, i'm trading all that fun stuff in for leaking milk and having a person latched onto me for at least a year and never sleeping again, but who cares about sleep and independence and dry shirts anyways? that stuff is way overrated. these early years are supposedly easier than the teenage years, too, right? the best part about all of it - pregnancy, birth, and postpartum - is that i will have two amazingly beautiful little girls to snuggle and love and watch grow into amazingly beautiful women.

daylight savings

so, yesterday baby girl decided to opt out of nap time, which i thought would aid in adjusting to daylight savings...wrong! thanks to a runny nose and over exhaustion , someone was too cranky at dinner to eat. we spooned in a few bites of applesauce and put her to bed without dinner and a bath. i'll give you one guess what happened next...

well, first of all, i had the most difficult time getting comfortable and falling asleep. i probably got up to pee about seven times, thanks to the little girl in my belly. the last time i checked the clock, i think we were nearing 3 am. normally, this wouldn't be too damaging to my morning, since baby girl typically wakes up sometime between 8 and 9. last night, however, some barky little voice called out for momma to rescue her around 4am. "hungwy." yeah, that no dinner thing came back to haunt me.

despite her requests for milk and cereal, i gave her a strawberry granola bar in OUR bed. i did not feel like dealing with that mess all over the kitchen and baby girl's pajamas as i waddled around like a zombie. of course, someone also decided they couldn't sit up on top of the covers (that i could easily shake out) and eat the granola bar. no, she had to lie down under the covers in the middle of the bed next to daddy.

when she was finished, she begged for milk and cereal anyways, despite my best efforts to dodge that bullet. i compromised with dry cereal in a bowl, but my deal was not good enough. so i picked up a screaming little girl and put her back in her bed, unplugged the loud humidifier, which probably woke her up in the first place, and went back to bed, where another grouch was waiting for me...top gun soon rolled over into a chunk of sticky granola bar that had somehow made it to his side of the bed. before i could do anything about it, he threw back the covers and grumbled, "i'm going to sleep on the couch!"

i brushed what crumbs i could out of my side and passed out. we all slept in until sometime around 11 this morning. i guess this was God's way of sending me through a newborn boot camp before we bring home another little person who is going to torture me with restless nights. stupid daylight savings.

j'aime ma vie

amid all the diaper wrestling...

the crumbs on the couch cushions...

the sock factory in the backseat of my car...

the crib circus of stuffed animals...

the blueberry stained t-shirts...

the wall murals painted in sharpie and crayon...

the missing toys i find in the most obscure top-secret hiding spots...

the constant picky-eater battle...

the runny nose and impossibly fast-growing fingernails...

the begging and whining, "i want it"...

...and "don't want it"...

the inescapable cartoons...

the play dough and fingerpaints...

reading the same books twice every night for 17 days straight...

the "big castle" and "choo choo" blocks...

the puzzle books that end up in a pile...

the no-spill sippy cups that somehow always leak...

the "rinnie pieces" and "bwownies"...

amid Kipper and Nemo...

Mickey Mouse and Curious George...

the grubby smears and fingerprints...

bike rides and playgrounds...

the mountainous piles of laundry...

...and dishes...

the time-outs and no-nos...

the holes in...well...what doesn't have them these days?

yup, amid horsie-back rides...

the pants that never stay up...

and shoes that are too small...too quickly...

i get a glimpse of the amazing, incredible little girl my baby is growing up to be.

and i find myself smiling through the tears of frustration and fatigue...

because

i would not trade one minute of my crazy, sometimes lonely and isolated, blessed life for anything.

j'aime ma vie.

cry baby

top gun and i had a little debate earlier about an experience we had as first-time parents in california. we went to disneyland for a few hours and ended the night with a dinner out at downtown disney. first of all, it was our first time out together since baby girl was born. second of all, the hostess seated us smack in the middle of the restaurant...it was like we were on display, and everyone was there for the new parents show. not long into our meal, our little girl started making a BIG noise. i tried nursing her, holding, rocking, changing...nothing was helping. daddy said we should take our food to go, but i said no. absolutely not. this was our first night out, and they shouldn't have seated us "on stage" if they have a problem with crying babies. i'm curious what you would have done??