Adventures in Parenting

The Good:

Each morning, Carter and Aidan and I accompany Katelyn around the corner to school. I push the stroller while Carter rides his bike and Katelyn rides a bike or scooter. They get to play on the playground until the bell rings, then the kids line up and their teacher escorts them to class. This morning, Katelyn was already in line and following the teacher with the other kids when Carter got a very strong urge to give her one final hug and kiss. He was so insistent that I let him run after her. He was quick and didn't hold up their little line at all, and it made me glad that I allowed it. His little displays of affection just melt my heart.

*Because I have yet to post pictures of Katelyn's first day of school, I'm going to take the opportunity right now. Most of you are totally familiar with the emotional side of the first day of school, so I'll spare you a long, drawn-out post. Suffice it to say, I was sad to send my first child off to kindergarten, and tears were shed. It helped me to see her so happy to go.

This picture is blurry, but it captures Katelyn's mood that morning just perfectly.

Striking a pose

Katie and mom on their first walk to school

The Bad:

Aidan is the happiest baby around - usually. He spends 98% of his time smiling, laughing, and playing around. He's quite a tease for a 13-month-old. Well, my happy little guy has suddenly turned into a screaming, crying baby, thanks to some teeth trying to fight their way through his gums. He woke up around 4 this morning, so upset that I thought his screams were going to wake the other kids. I gave him Tylenol and held him for a long time, and finally gave up and put him in bed with me. He eventually fell asleep right before 6, just 15 minutes before I get Tanner up and see him off to school. Poor Tanner had to eat breakfast alone this morning because I was afraid if I tried to move Aidan he'd wake up and start screaming again, and I couldn't leave him in my bed. Of course, I had to get up soon anyway to feed the other kids and get Katelyn off to school. A few months ago, before Aidan starting sleeping through the night, I would have considered that a decent night's sleep. But I've gotten a little spoiled lately, so I was pretty tired this morning.

Unfortunately, the screaming and crying also lasted through much of our Costco trip today, and through Tanner's parent/teacher conferences. It was fun to try to talk to 8 teachers with a squirmy, upset baby in my lap.


The Ugly:

I mentioned that we went to Costco today. Well, I wouldn't recommend a Costco trip to anyone whose huband is out of town (hint, hint, Alisa). Somehow I managed to fit most of the store in the cart before we finally made it to the registers. After shopping for what seemed like hours, we had lunch at the snack bar. It is a real test of patience to try to get your rambunctious kids to eat their pizza without making a huge mess, and in less than 2 hours, all with a baby who's writhing and alternating between whining and screaming bloody murder.

So we made it through the shopping and eating, and were headed out the door. I let my kids bring the remainders of their drinks, and you can probably see where the story is heading now. Right as the woman at the door was checking my receipt, Carter dropped his root beer on the floor. It spilled in the center of the entrance, so people were backed up waiting to go around us as one of the employees and I worked to clean it up. Carter was upset and asking for more root beer, and I've been trying hard not to overreact in these situations. So to show him that I was not really angry over a spilled drink, I ran back and got him a little more. We gathered ourselves together and finally got out the door, and had walked about 12 steps when Carter dumped his entire drink AGAIN! We were outside of the store, but still inside of the main outer doors. I saw that one of the employees had seen it, and decided to let them take care of this one. So we left, and I made Carter throw his cup away. Sorry, but no refill after the second spill! I wasn't really embarrassed by the first spill, although I don't enjoy holding up crowds of people. But the second one made me feel like a real idiot for having given him another drink to spill immediately. Oh well, what do you do?

Frea.king.out.

I've got a million blog posts rolling around in my head, and tons of things I want to catch you all up on, but I can't get past what's going on around here right now, so that's what you get to hear about. John leaves Sunday morning for a 3-week radiology course in Washington, DC. We've known about this for months, and I had originally planned to drive out with the kids and spend the last week with him sightseeing and hanging out. Since we made those plans, we spent all of our money redoing a bathroom. I also realized that it would be pretty tough to only take the kids out of school for a week (which seemed like the longest I'd want them to miss) and drive all the way across the country and back, still leaving enough time to see some stuff in DC. And John's not thrilled with the idea of his wife driving the kids cross-country alone. (Personally, I'm pretty independent when it comes to that stuff, and don't see that as an issue. I could do it! Of course, it would be exhausting......) So we'll do DC with the kids when we have unlimited time and money, or at least more time and money than we have now.

That leaves me here to be a single mom for 3 weeks. I'll be honest with you - I'm freaking out. I feel pretty confident that I can handle things as far as keeping our home running, but when I really start to think about all of the responsibility, I do get a little panicky. However, my main concern is that I don't want to be without my husband. He is my best friend in this world, and the most important time of my day is the time we spend together at night after the kids are in bed. Looking forward to that time is what gets me through my days. Man, I'm getting myself worked up, so I'd better stop thinking about it. I'll just say that I'm going to miss my husband desperately. And when he gets back - after I've spent as much time with him as either of us can stand - I think I'll be ready and deserving of a day at the spa (hint, hint, in case you're reading this, sweetie). Four kids is a lot for one person to handle for that long!

So for the remainder of this week, we're trying to get John packed and ready for the trip, finish up our stupid bathroom, and throw a big birthday party for Carter. (Did I mention that John is on nights this week, so he's gone all night and sleeps most of the day? That gives us a few afternoon and evening hours together, and that includes Saturday night. He'll get home Sunday morning just in time to grab his suitcase and jump in the car for the airport. By the way, could I be more of a crybaby?)

I did sneak a minute to get the little boys' pictures taken this morning. It's a little bit of a distraction from the work I should be doing and the mourning I am doing, just to have some cute new pictures of my babies. The main ones are on the sidebar, but here's one I got just for fun. I'll share and maybe you'll forgive me for spending most of this post feeling sorry for myself.

And now, about the cake

Apparently cake decorating is the latest thing. There are a million different shows on tv about the subject, my personal favorite being Cake Boss, in case you were wondering. I think it's funny how the stuff our moms and grandmas were so good at seemed to be forgotten, but comes back in waves. It seems like everyone I know is into quilting, gardening, even canning. I wasn't even surprised to see Becky's post about her recent foray into cake decorating, which I read after I had purchased what I needed to create Aidan's birthday cake. Hopefully she won't turn me in to Cake Wrecks when she sees these pictures.

I was super anxious about the whole cake thing. I'm not sure why - it's really not life or death. The worst thing that could have happened is that I served an ugly cake. Or I could have served a plain old frosted chocolate cake, which no one in my family would have complained about. (OK, maybe John would have complained, but not about how it looked. He's just not that into chocolate.) On Friday night I went to Michael's and spent 30 minutes in the cake decorating aisle, then gave the cashier an arm and a leg for the small bag of supplies that I brought home. Then I had nightmares all night about making the cake. Seriously, I hardly slept at all. You'd think I had a big exam or something, not a silly cake to make.

When it came down to it, it took me a long time to decorate this cake, but mostly due to inexperience. And it was TOTALLY worth it. The kids got the biggest kick out of it. Carter told everyone at Aidan's party about how mom "squirted red stuff all over the cake and it took her a looong time." He was seriously impressed. So would I do it again? Absolutely! I'm already planning the kids' future birthday cakes, fully expecting, of course, that my skills will improve with each one.

I can't forget to thank my friend Ginger. I was inspired by her awesome cakes, and couldn't have done it without her recipes, advice, and encouragement. Although I'm sure this would look better if she had been holding my hand while I did it.

So without further ado......



Fun, huh? Doesn't it make you want to try your hand at it?

To Aidan, on your first birthday

Dear Aidan,

Today you turn 1. A year ago, I was pushing a shopping cart around Costco, trying to keep Katelyn and Carter close so I didn't have to chase them and stopping every few minutes for a contraction. By the time I reached the checkout, it was apparent that it was time to head to the hospital. I wasn't terribly smart about my shopping, and lifting all of those giant boxes into the van while I was having contractions was nearly impossible!

If I hadn't had to wait 2 hours while they gave me IV antibiotics, the labor would have been pretty quick. But those hours were peaceful as your dad and I watched the summer olympics and laughed, and I updated my blog to let people know what was going on. Even with the epidural, I can always feel the contractions in one spot, but I still think of those hours in the hospital with your dad, having a baby, as the most peaceful and happy times - times that I look forward to and don't dread at all, even knowing the difficulty and pain that are coming.

I made dad go home to sleep that night after you were born, partly because I couldn't imagine him trying to sleep on the chair-turned-bed in the corner of the room, and partly because I selfishly wanted to be alone with you. I fell in love with you immediately. You have the sweetest, happiest, and most loving spirit. Even now, at a year old, you snuggle with me in the morning after you wake up, before and after naps, and at night before bed, while dad and I watch tv. You are the biggest daddy's boy I've ever met, and you'll push me away in a heartbeat if your dad is in sight or if you can hear his voice. But I'm lucky enough to be at home with you every day, and I know that you love me.

That day at Costco seems like a long time ago, yet I have a hard time believing that my baby is a year old. I think it really hit me that you're growing up the other day when you brought dad your shoes and socks, then sat on his lap and lifted your little foot so he could put them on you. You're such a smart little guy. You say mama and da-da and diddy (kitty). You wave hi and goodbye and even night-night, and you love to clap your chubby little hands. You've started walking, and you're all over the place. A few nights ago, I walked outside to see what dad was doing and found you sitting on Carter's PowerWheels motorcycle. You had climbed up all by yourself and knew exactly what you were doing. If only you knew how to make it go - you would have taken off!

Now I'm having another baby, and every once in a while I worry about how it will affect you. But I know that you won't get lost in the shuffle. You're such an important part of our family. You're happy 98% of the time, and that happiness is contagious. Tanner, Katelyn, and Carter absolutely adore you, and can't pass by you without stopping to play with you. You can turn even the worst of moods into a smile. I think you'll have this role in our family no matter how many kids come after you.

Happy birthday to my best little buddy. I love you!

Love, Mom

Keepin' It Real

I have always been claustrophobic. When I was in elementary school we had these 3 giant tractor tires on the playground. They were lined up so that you could climb into the two outer tires and into the middle. But if you were in the middle with friends on the outside, you couldn't get out unless your friends did. I can tell you that I only sat in that inner tire once or twice, and my heart was beating hard and fast the entire time. I preferred to let everyone else climb in and I'd stay in the outer tires, with my whole body able to scoot out at any time. As an adult, I don't have tractor tires to deal with, but I've had two MRIs, and those were two of the most terrifying times of my life. You know, the table you're lying on moves into that tube and it sure seems like you couldn't get out if you tried. Man, I'm starting to shake just thinking about it. The whole time I'm having the MRI done I have to tell myself to take slow deep breaths, and I keep an inner dialog going to talk myself out of completely freaking out. My claustrophobia also extends into seemingly boring things, like driving in construction where you only have one lane, and no way to get out of it - or anything similar you can think of.

So I freaked out last night. Just for a split second - I had that moment of panic that I have at least once every pregnancy. Claustrophobia is the best description I can come up with for this feeling I get. I know that I have this little life developing inside of me. I haven't really felt enough movement, and I'm not big and pregnant enough yet to start feeling that bond. You know, by the end you feel like you have a little pal with you all the time, and you almost feel empty and lonely after you've given birth. Well, I'm not at that stage yet. I still have to remind myself that there's a baby inside, though you'd think the constant barfing, headaches, and increasing pudginess would be constant reminders. Anyway.........it must have been one of those moments when I was thinking, "Oh yeah, there's a little baby growing in there!" That's when it hit me that, "Oh my gosh, that little baby's going to be there until it's big enough and developed enough to come out. And it's going to start impinging on my ability to breath. And it's going to stretch my ribs to the point of pain. And there's not a thing I can do to get it out!"

Yeah, I know, I sound like a total nutcase. And pretty selfish, too. Like I said, this whole thing only lasted a second, but it was some intense panic. At least it's a familiar feeling. It hits me at some point with every kid, and obviously I get over it. But man, what are we thinking when we choose to go through this? It's a big commitment to let someone move in and use your body to grow and develop. And it's really out of your control. You can't decide how sick you get, or what hurts, or when and where that baby decides to kick. And I won't even get into the havoc it wreaks on your body!

So there you go - some insight into my demented little world. I'm pregnant. I'm starting to look pregnant, although mostly chubby, probably, and I hate that! If you're lucky, I'll post a pic soon of my little belly. And stay tuned for pics of the finished bedroom. I'm in heaven having a place to go and close the door and feel peace!!!!

Checking In

Just thought I'd tell you what I've been up to, since for the most part I've gone missing in my life this past week. We're attempting to turn the world's ugliest bedroom:

into a peaceful escape. I've been planning it and shopping for the last two months, and I'm dying for the room to turn out like the picture in my mind. Hopefully I'll be posting the results soon! In the meantime, I'm trying to keep my kids clothed, fed, and entertained, and keep the house from caving in on itself. For the most part I've failed at the latter, but tonight the kitchen and living room are clean, and I even cooked dinner - I haven't been cooking much this week due to the constant mudding, sanding, mudding, sanding, mudding, priming, painting, etc. My poor garden gets its watering and not much else, so I'm beyond excited to bring in my first load tonight (not counting the peas and chard we've been eating for a while now). It looks like we'll have a bountiful year, despite the fact that my garden looks like a morning glory field. We'll get to weeding next week....My body aches in every way imaginable, but it's doing a better job at distracting me from the nausea than sitting on my rear watching t.v., so I should be grateful. Now it's off to paint all night, in hopes that I can finish so that John can lay the carpet tomorrow. (New carpet - can you believe it?!!! I'm ecstatic!!!)

A change of plans

I was driving home this afternoon from lunch at the park with the kids when I happened to find my favorite music in the whole world on the classical station on satellite radio (one of my new favorite things!). Rachmaninoff's 2nd piano concerto was playing, and the 2nd movement, my favorite of the three, was just barely starting. My first thought was, "Maybe I should take a long route home, because this is going to last longer than our drive home." I did drive straight home, completely immersed in the music. I was playing along - in my head, with my fingers, and in my heart. (It's sappy, but you're just going to have to go with it - or stop reading now. It only gets worse.) I have adored this piece of music since the moment I first heard it, and it instantly became my dream to perform it live with an orchestra some time in my life.

We pulled into the garage halfway through the third movement. Tanner opened the door to get out, then realized that I wasn't budging. He waited a few minutes, but gave up on me and went inside before it was over. (The kid now has ear buds in and his IPod going at all times, so my music doesn't even make his radar - not that he'd care about it anyway.) I was kind of glad that he went inside, because the music builds and builds, and the ending is so dramatic and moving that I had tears in my eyes. (This is not abnormal. John and I went to the symphony with his parents before we were married and saw this piece performed live. I cried practically the whole way through. It's hard to explain my emotional connection to the music, but it's pretty strong. I wanted to be the girl playing the piano so badly I could taste it!) This time the tears served another purpose. It occurred to me that I had given up my dream. I said goodbye to my piano major after Katelyn was born and I was pregnant with Carter, when it became obvious that I couldn't be a mom and finish such an intense major at the same time. It was an extremely difficult decision for me. While I hope to finish my degree when the kids are older, I really feel like the time has passed for me to fulfill that dream. I can't see any opportunities arising for some middle-aged lady to perform with a symphony orchestra, and to choose the music. And I've lost so much of my ability. I know it's my fault to an extent. I should be making it a priority to practice daily. But I couldn't possibly play 4 hours a day like I was back then, so I'm going lose some dexterity regardless. Anyway............

I was sitting in the car, tears in my eyes, the music moving through me as I mourned the loss of a dream. And then it hit me. I didn't lose my dream - I traded it! I always knew that I wanted to be a mom and stay home with my kids. I didn't dream of having children like some people do, but I just kind of knew that that's what I wanted. And obviously it is what I want. I chose to stop going to school, and I've chosen to keep having kids. We have another one on the way, due in January, and I'm not even sure that it'll be our last. So obviously, this is what I want to be doing, right? I'm living my dream!

I couldn't really shake the melancholy feeling I had, even with my realization. I carried it with me all afternoon. I'm still allowed to mourn the loss of a dream, even if I chose to lose it, I think. But I feel very grateful. My husband works so hard so that I can be at home, and he supports me and realizes more every day how important it is to have someone at home full time. It blesses our children's lives and will continue to do so. And I will always feel good about the decision I made to be at home with them, even if it means giving up some things I could have done for myself. And I still can and do bless our lives with my love of music.

How about you? What have you sacrificed, and does it make you sad, or are you at peace?