A few weeks ago I posted about how I've been a grouchy Mom and the steps I was/am taking to be better in the moment with my boys. Last week I felt a real dip in that motivation.
JL has been working odd hours and taking more on call shifts as we get financially prepared for Christmas, and his school load has been much more demanding this term than last. I feel like the second our heads hit the pillow we are both out which leaves no real time for actual communication. I love my husband so this makes me sad.
Both boys have been consistently under the weather. First we had the flu shot fall out. Then Henry decided it was a great idea to cut five teeth all at the same time while Walter went through a major growth spurt. Then that morphed into a wicked cold and my house has been infiltrated by tissues covered in bright green mucus ever since. Blegh.
I've also had a fair amount of heavy contractions and now my OB is lecturing me on premature labor. Lectures from my OB always remind me of lectures from my Grandma Fowler. Sweetly worded guilt trips.
I am not one of those mothers that follows the rule that a messy home equates to happy kids. I definitely think cleaning is important and teaches children the importance of cleanliness. I also am not one of those mothers who will completely ignore myself to make sure my kids and spouse are happy. But sometimes my attempts at balance and sanity are completely thrown off by friends that tell me I shouldn't care so much. Friends that guilt trip me for putting the boys in front of Sesame Street every day to take a shower and get dressed. And after awhile all of that peer pressure and those comments start to work on me and I wonder if I really am even a tolerable mother and wife.
Now that I've whined that all out...the point is I was losing steam. Then I came across a quote by L. Tom Perry that completely changed my perspective.
One of the greatest weaknesses in most of us is our lack of faith in ourselves. One of our common failings is to depreciate our tremendous worth.
I love it so much it's my new background on my laptop.
25 October 2012
09 October 2012
parenting....nailed it
I'm starting to realize that Walter and I take a lot of pictures like this. Both of my boys are busy reacting to their flu shots (thumbs down), so we're laying low around here. All this down time is really starting to bring out a bit of narcissism in Walter I hadn't realized was there. I'm going to worry about that later... for now, enjoy!
Strange Mom Admission: Is it wrong that my favorite physical feature of his is his birthmark smack on the center of his forehead that matches mine? Every time I see it I think, 'HA! I dare someone to say you don't belong to me!' It also makes a really good target for kisses.
19 September 2012
Restart
I have been a grouchy Mom lately. There is a long list of pathetic excuses that I've been using to justify my behavior, but in reality, I've just been a pill.
So I took a deep breath and hit the restart button. When I was single, I believed that the only way to restart was to move to a new place, meet some new people, etc. Everything I did was exterior with the hope that it would impact me emotionally. I have since learned my lesson.
(Moment of embarrassing truth: Mostly because I love our little house that we rent.)
Restarts are pretty awesome. The boys and I have been snuggling and playing all day long. Walter has really gotten into singing lately and he is currently trying to teach Henry the gestures to all of his favorites. Henry really likes dancing, so in an effort to combine their two loves, we've been having dance parties to Classic Disney songs. This has brought on a great love for the stuffed Sebastian that my brother gave me when I was little.
Walter and I have started a new alone time during Henry's morning nap. We get in my bed and snuggle under the covers like stow aways on a ship, reading books and talking and laughing. Yesterday, he looked at me and said, "I love you Mommy. You are my awesome friend."
Who can be grouchy with love like that?
I hit 6 months next week and I know that before I can bat an eye, baby boy will be here and all of these precious moments with Walter and Henry will be that much harder to soak up. I have been extremely blessed to be able to stay home with my boys and I don't want to look back and regret filling my life with nonsense instead of focusing on what really matters.
06 August 2012
My goose
JL got a great deal and bought Walter a turtle night light for $8. It must have been a hit because he was sweet enough to crawl into bed yesterday morning before dawn and show us what all of the different setting were.
In other news, we're potty training! We started this morning and Walter has only had one small accident. I am so proud of how great he is doing and am glad we waited until Walter gave us some serious signs that he was ready. *Fingers crossed* Hope this continues to go so well.
31 July 2012
Sickos and grouches
Hopefully their fever breaks soon so we can get back to our normal routine.
18 July 2012
sometimes you just need an Olympian on your side
(This is a long and convoluted post, so bear with me.)
Seven weeks ago, I had my sweet OB tell me that there was a high chance that my pregnancy would end in miscarriage.
Rewind to 11 weeks ago when I recognized the many signs nature has of letting me know I am expecting. I had a panic attack. Let me clarify.
I know that most couples embrace every pregnancy with open arms and joy. When JL and I found out that we were pregnant with Walter, we were immediately elated. JL came home from work and he picked me up and spun me around our itty bitty living room until I wanted to vomit. We knew that there was a baby that needed to come and we were ecstatic.
There was a minor complication in my pregnancy that led to some expected bleeding, but other than that things were normal. We assumed that we would be able to carry on with our plan to have as many children as we saw fit in the time frame that we chose.
We miscarried three times before we had Henry. All four of the pregnancies were unplanned. With each miscarriage I was thrown deeper and deeper into a state of severe depression. I didn't understand what was happening.
The same minor complication that had occurred with Walter occurred during my pregnancy with Henry. The pocket of blood didn't dissipate naturally, however, and I spent my time on and off bed rest with a truly bloody birth finishing things off.
At my six week post-partum check-up, my OB and I had a quick discussion about the fact that my uterus was inverted, something that he or any other doctor I had seen had never brought up.
Four months later, I miscarried again. I was inconsolable. I cried for weeks. My body had once again betrayed me in a way I never thought that it would. As a child, as a teenager, and as an adult, I never once supposed that I would be unable to successfully carry children from the start of a pregnancy to the end. For months, I would burst into hysterics and my sweet husband would hold me and remind me of our two beautiful boys. Of Heavenly Father's timing. Of trials of faith and lessons learned.
After five months I finally found closure. I realized that I might never have another child. I thought about how wonderful it was that JL and I met at such a young age when my body would have the energy and ability to fight for our babies. I pondered on the many women who never get to have children in this life. Who was I to complain when I woke up every day to two of the most loving children, healthy and strong and mine?
One month later we found out we were expecting. I dreaded the thought of losing another pregnancy but I was so overcome by hope that this would be different I let myself believe that it would be. Because of previous complications and miscarriages, I went in at 8 weeks for my first check-up. I felt great! We usually miscarried by 7 weeks, so I was feeling confident that the hardest part was done. My OB breezed through the beginning of the appointment. We talked about how my thyroid medication was working, how I was feeling, how I was handling things with the boys, etc. As we moved into the ultrasound room, I called JL back and he stood next to me and held my hand while we watched that little heart flutter on the screen. It took a second to process the large pocket of blood, but when I did, I didn't think anything of it. I'd seen the complication with both boys so why wouldn't it be there for this child? My OB hummed and printed twice the usual amount of pictures, shot us a small smile, and told us to meet him back in the exam room.
We got down to business. The pocket of blood was unusually large, but even worse, it was blocking the placenta from fully attaching. Until it cleared away, if it ever did, the placenta was stuck with no where to go, having attached firmly on either side of the pocket. Our rate of miscarriage was four times higher than normal. He wanted to see me in a week to do another ultrasound. Until then, I was advised to minimized my activity as best as possible and be on the watch for hemorrhaging.
When I returned a week later, my OB realistically laid out the next few months. He had looked through my file and assessed things. He said it was a small miracle we were able to get pregnant so easily and an even greater miracle that we had carried both boys to full term. The ultrasound showed no change, if anything, the pocket of blood looked larger, bigger than the baby. He gave me a list of restrictions and told me that if I started cramping to sit down and stop moving. I knew in that instant that if I combined my faith and his willpower that we would get this baby here safely.
At my appointment two weeks ago, the blood pocket had shrunk dramatically. The baby was healthy and beautiful. And most importantly, I knew that no matter what happened this baby would always be mine. So while there is still a 25% chance that we will miscarry for what would be the fifth time, I'm at peace. I'm calm with the knowledge that this is out of my control because, just like most mothers, I say about 100 prayers a day and I know that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me completely. I know that I have a husband who cherishes me even if we never bring another child to this Earth. I know that I am a mother to two boys, that I will always be their mother, and just like with this little swirly fetus that I feel moving around as I type, nothing will change that.
And all of those things and so many more make me one of the most blessed women.
Seven weeks ago, I had my sweet OB tell me that there was a high chance that my pregnancy would end in miscarriage.
Rewind to 11 weeks ago when I recognized the many signs nature has of letting me know I am expecting. I had a panic attack. Let me clarify.
I know that most couples embrace every pregnancy with open arms and joy. When JL and I found out that we were pregnant with Walter, we were immediately elated. JL came home from work and he picked me up and spun me around our itty bitty living room until I wanted to vomit. We knew that there was a baby that needed to come and we were ecstatic.
There was a minor complication in my pregnancy that led to some expected bleeding, but other than that things were normal. We assumed that we would be able to carry on with our plan to have as many children as we saw fit in the time frame that we chose.
We miscarried three times before we had Henry. All four of the pregnancies were unplanned. With each miscarriage I was thrown deeper and deeper into a state of severe depression. I didn't understand what was happening.
The same minor complication that had occurred with Walter occurred during my pregnancy with Henry. The pocket of blood didn't dissipate naturally, however, and I spent my time on and off bed rest with a truly bloody birth finishing things off.
At my six week post-partum check-up, my OB and I had a quick discussion about the fact that my uterus was inverted, something that he or any other doctor I had seen had never brought up.
Four months later, I miscarried again. I was inconsolable. I cried for weeks. My body had once again betrayed me in a way I never thought that it would. As a child, as a teenager, and as an adult, I never once supposed that I would be unable to successfully carry children from the start of a pregnancy to the end. For months, I would burst into hysterics and my sweet husband would hold me and remind me of our two beautiful boys. Of Heavenly Father's timing. Of trials of faith and lessons learned.
After five months I finally found closure. I realized that I might never have another child. I thought about how wonderful it was that JL and I met at such a young age when my body would have the energy and ability to fight for our babies. I pondered on the many women who never get to have children in this life. Who was I to complain when I woke up every day to two of the most loving children, healthy and strong and mine?
One month later we found out we were expecting. I dreaded the thought of losing another pregnancy but I was so overcome by hope that this would be different I let myself believe that it would be. Because of previous complications and miscarriages, I went in at 8 weeks for my first check-up. I felt great! We usually miscarried by 7 weeks, so I was feeling confident that the hardest part was done. My OB breezed through the beginning of the appointment. We talked about how my thyroid medication was working, how I was feeling, how I was handling things with the boys, etc. As we moved into the ultrasound room, I called JL back and he stood next to me and held my hand while we watched that little heart flutter on the screen. It took a second to process the large pocket of blood, but when I did, I didn't think anything of it. I'd seen the complication with both boys so why wouldn't it be there for this child? My OB hummed and printed twice the usual amount of pictures, shot us a small smile, and told us to meet him back in the exam room.
We got down to business. The pocket of blood was unusually large, but even worse, it was blocking the placenta from fully attaching. Until it cleared away, if it ever did, the placenta was stuck with no where to go, having attached firmly on either side of the pocket. Our rate of miscarriage was four times higher than normal. He wanted to see me in a week to do another ultrasound. Until then, I was advised to minimized my activity as best as possible and be on the watch for hemorrhaging.
When I returned a week later, my OB realistically laid out the next few months. He had looked through my file and assessed things. He said it was a small miracle we were able to get pregnant so easily and an even greater miracle that we had carried both boys to full term. The ultrasound showed no change, if anything, the pocket of blood looked larger, bigger than the baby. He gave me a list of restrictions and told me that if I started cramping to sit down and stop moving. I knew in that instant that if I combined my faith and his willpower that we would get this baby here safely.
At my appointment two weeks ago, the blood pocket had shrunk dramatically. The baby was healthy and beautiful. And most importantly, I knew that no matter what happened this baby would always be mine. So while there is still a 25% chance that we will miscarry for what would be the fifth time, I'm at peace. I'm calm with the knowledge that this is out of my control because, just like most mothers, I say about 100 prayers a day and I know that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me completely. I know that I have a husband who cherishes me even if we never bring another child to this Earth. I know that I am a mother to two boys, that I will always be their mother, and just like with this little swirly fetus that I feel moving around as I type, nothing will change that.
And all of those things and so many more make me one of the most blessed women.
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