Wednesday, August 28, 2013

We Don't Mess.

My oldest child forgot his lunchbox at school. It's the third week of school and it's the second time it's happened. The first time was during the first week and since I'm nice, I drove back to the school so he could have a nicely packed and healthy lunch the next day. You know, a lunch packed with love. 

 But now, I'm over it. He has to learn responsibility at some point so we're starting early. He thought we would just give him money to eat lunch at school. But...I felt like that was too easy and he was excited about it, so while the other boys got go gurts and lovely turkey sammies, apple slices, cheese sticks, cold juice and whatever else...triston got a boring pb & j, pretzels, water, and a granola bar + 15 minutes of early bedtime. And that lovely little note on his sack, which all his friends thought was funny. 

Side note: turns out that he didn't really care about it at all except the early bedtime. 

But, whatever. Lets hope he learns that lesson before I have to break out psyco mom. She tends to make an appearance a few times a year. Or, at least once a month - if you catch my drift. 

Katy Perry's new song, roar: awesome. It's just the kind of song I sing to my kids when I whip them in a game of pig or trouble and they get so mad (but they secretly love it). 

And also: I had a good laugh over some primary history over the weekend. "Primary" is our church's program for youth ages 18 mo.-11 and I won't lie: my kids hate going to the third hour called sharing time, which maybe says something about me because I'm the president in our little branch and myself and another couple of ladies teach the lesson and music. 

Anyway, this weekend was the 135th anniversary of the first primary. According to church history, a sister in the church was concerned about all the crazy little boys running around. She was quoted saying, "how will our daughters ever find suitable husbands if these boys are what they have to choose from?!" or, something like that. And so primary was born where they taught the boys (and girls) not to steal out of orchards and hang on pioneer wagon wheels. And then also about spiritual matters...and I just thought, "yeah, that sounds about right." It makes me feel like maybe my rowdy crew is more normal than I sometimes think, even if it was over 100 years ago. Boys are boys. And based on most of the men in our church, they will turn out just fine. I think I'm going to start quoting that the next time our row starts getting some stares! ;) 

Monday, August 26, 2013

Thoughts on a Miscarriage

2 weeks ago, at 12 weeks along, we got the news I had been worried about: the baby didn't have a heart beat. I wasn't shocked, nor riddled with emotion from an unexpected surprise - it was a simple confirmation if what I already knew. 

It's easy to talk yourself out of something you haven't learned yet as a truth. "Well maybe...." or "I'm just nervous" or whatever. It's hope for things unseen. It's faith that everything goes the way it's supposed to. And we have, as a family, faith that our creator orchestrates what we cannot and so really, why worry. Especially about our reproductive achievements, if you will: four healthy pregnancies, four easy labor & deliveries, and four perfect little boys in eight years. 

Yet, still, I had this completely unwarranted worry that something just wasn't right. There was no rhyme or reason that led me to believe that something was wrong, other than light cramping that everyone and every website reiterated as normal (it is, but has never been for me, which prompted, "it must be a girl" sentiments). Other than that, I had a very vivid dream of miscarrying that now seems like real-life foreshadowing. 

When I finally saw our babe on the ultrasound screen and it wasn't bouncing around like each one of the boys were, I knew the ultrasound tech wouldn't find a heart beat. It's the first thing you can usually see, after all, and there was only stillness. In every sense of the word. Even Nash, who I had reservations about taking because the boy is a pistol, was unusually still. 

The tech was thorough and when we were both certain, she called my doctor in to discuss options. The baby had passed 3 1/2 weeks earlier and my only shock of the day was the fact that my body hadn't even alerted me (other than the dream) of what had happened. Where was the spotting?! I didn't want to make any rash decisions and Nash was starting to get rowdy, so I told her I would call her back and let her know if I wanted a d & c, which sounded terrifying. Side note: I've never been put under.  

After I went home and after speaking about it with Travis, we decided it might be the best thing if I went ahead and got the d & c. We made the appointment and made preparations, had the surgery and everything was fine. (to someone who is considering what to do - it was so quick and easy, and hardly any cramping or spotting afterward) 

And so everyone wants to know, how do I feel? And that answer has to be different for each and every person who goes through this. I feel okay and at peace with it. I said this on my Instagram: it is hard to feel devastated when you've been so richly blessed. Disappointed? Of course. Sad? Yes, but not a disabling kind of sadness. But also thankful that if the baby wasn't forming right, that this happened at 12 weeks instead of 30. Or worse, had a still born birth. And we're  just trusting that The Lord has our back, irreverently speaking. 

It didn't hurt that we were surrounded by friends and family with calls, texts, FB messages, people that stopped by or sent gifts and flowers...and the food! If you aren't friendly with good people who will cook for you when you are down, you've got to get some better friends. And of course, the thoughts and prayers made all the difference. It was all very much appreciated and made our burden so much lighter. Thank you - you guys know who you are.

A friend posted this on my FB, and I had heard the quote before, but it really touched my heart the day I read it - and I believe it.

"There is no footprint too small that it cannot leave an imprint in this world" 

Travis and I will carry that tiny imprint with us. At the moment, I'm not sure of the how, but I know, in the same way I knew before, it will touch others, too, and will make a difference somewhere. This little life, as short as it was, will not be forgotten.  


Tuesday, August 20, 2013

hello? is there anybody out there?

** points for guessing the title of the of the lyric of the song i just used for my blog post.
 it's a goodie.

so, seriously. my kids went back to school a week ago and one thing that was at the top of my list to get done/start doing/quit procrastinating/come on already was: blogging. it's right up there with finally potty training my 2 year old who asks me to change his poop diaper. which, not coincidentally is why i am right now blogging: i'm taking that cat to the potty every 10 minutes - going on 2 hours - with nothing. not even a drop. so we're sitting here, watching 10-13 minute increments of thomas & friends, and then trying with no results and i kind of want to die.  and long time readers (do i even have readers any more?!) might remember that at one time i claimed to be a potty training expert. my older 3 boys potty trained so easily that surely it had to be something that i was doing. ...and well, there's nothing like that 4th child to bring you back down to reality - in all aspects of parenting.

but whatever. we'll get it done.

also on my list: get the rest of the wallpaper out of my house & paint the foyer. for reals.

and then, just keep up with the dailys. i've always had this idea that my job as a stay at home mom is a temporary one - and maybe it is, something i only do when my kids are young - but, an actual career sounds less and less appealing every year. and just "keeping up with the dailys" is more appealing than ever. hmmm. i'll have to just let that marinate awhile.

let me just tell you:
sending these guys back to school was hard. i have felt, for years now, the need to home school, which is conflicting because over the summer i just about pulled my hair out with them home 24/7 and of course i have some reservations. and, it just isn't the right time yet. and so, as happy as i was to get them in a routine again, it was also a little sad. especially to let this one go:

he is just so innocent and sweet still - i haven't seen the disappointment on his face yet of what he might perceive as failure or worse, what a teacher or administrator might see as failure that actually changes how he feels about himself or what he can do. i haven't heard yet from him the endless chatter of so and so has this and so and so got that and so and so watches this on tv and i want to be just like so and so and how come so and so's parents let him do that, but you don't?!
 and i most definitely haven't gotten a call about him yet from a power trip teacher on a mission to teach children life lessons by ridiculing and belittling them in front of their peers and parents to the point of tears.

so prayers. prayer is the answer. the kiddos get extra prayers while they are at school, their teachers and administrators get extra prayers while they are at school, and nash is getting extra prayers so that he will learn how to use the potty.

and an extra prayer for myself: because nash just pooped in his pants.

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