Slightly Traumatic

I don't quite remember when I noticed my middle man's big tooth coming up right behind his baby tooth, but it's been at least a month.  His baby tooth was a little bit loose...not enough to come out.  We have been telling him to wiggle it every day, a few times a day.  This morning, my husband took him in to our bathroom.  I didn't think it was ready to come out yet.  I liked to let my teeth get as loose as possible so that I could almost spin it completely around with my tongue...Landon's tooth wasn't even close.

After a botched attempt, number two was successful.  There were tears and a little bit of pain, but the tooth fairy will make her appearance for the first time tonight....Kait has yet to lose a tooth...and is not even close.

Landon was excited to head off to school this morning to tell his teacher and all of his friends about the new hole in the front of his mouth.  And before he headed out the door, he asked to call his Poppy to tell him the news.

 Traumatized, he wouldn't stop crying at first.  He wouldn't even take the paper towel off to show me.

 With tears still in his eyes, he agrees to remove the paper towel and open his mouth just enough so I could get my first look.

After eating a popsicle for breakfast, everything in his world was right again...and he was happy about his missing tooth.

March 22nd, 2003 to March 22nd, 2011

Then

Now

Today, we celebrate eight years of marriage.  Looking forward to many, many more with this man of mine.  I am thankful, so thankful, and am in awe of this precious gift of eachother that we have been given. 

Happy Anniversary, Dan...the rest is in your cards. :-)

Fun Filled Weekend

My little family and I had a blast this past weekend.  My husband and I have been making it a point to have at least one date night a month.  It has been great to spend that time together.  On Saturday evening, we spent our night out with Dan's brother and his wife.  We wanted to do something out of the ordinary.  I have been wanting to go to a nearby indoor rock climbing place forever.  When my sister-in-law and I agreed on it we decided we were going to keep it a secret from our husbands and surprise them with it.  The beans were spilled in the car, but we lasted longer than I thought we would.  We all really enjoyed ourselves!

The next day, we headed out to Medieval Times with Kaitlyn's girl scout troop.  We got an awesome deal on the tickets that we couldn't pass up.  Even though Dan and I had already been and could really care less about going again, it was so neat to watch the kids enjoy themselves so much.  The boys were absolutely glued to the action, Kaitlyn liked sitting beside a friend...and Dan and I just went for the food.

 Giving it a shot...I am two inches off the ground.  We were only supposed to be moving horizontally, not vertically yet.

 Dan was a natural.  I was so impressed with his skills...I nicknamed him my tree frog...it was as if he had suctions on his feet and hands.

 Up I go...what a blast!

 The four of us after an hour of fun!

 Daddy and Kait

 My boys and me

The kids after a great show

Laundry Room

If you know me in real life, you know that I had a pretty tough week last week.  Several different things hit me all at once and I was left feeling as if I had been run over by a truck...maybe not so much physically, but definitely emotionally.

I wouldn't really use emotional to define the person that I am.  Dan comes home with stories about co-worker's wives and what they guys at work deal with and I don't even compare...which I think I should get some sort of compensation for...I kid, I kid.

I have talked to my wonderful man several times over our almost 8 years of married life together about the way dirt clothes should be put in the hamper...to make my duties easier.  I can usually look past the forgetfulness and whistle while I work, brush it off, and forget about it.  This past week, not so much.

When it came time to do a load of laundry for the day, I began carrying it out to the washing machine.  I placed item after item into the soapy water, and then I came to a pair of pants...inside of another pair of pants...and the socks still attached inside of both the legs.  I knew deep breathing would not work.  All of my sanity was out the window.  I slammed the laundry room door and that is when I let out a scream (as a 3 year old would)...mind you, all of my children were playing nicely in the playroom and they were oblivious to what was going on...I would never act like a child in front of my kids...well, almost never.

With my husband on the other side of the door laughing and trying his hardest to compose himself and me in the laundry room sobbing with the door closed, I am sure it was quite the sight.  He waited a minute and then opened the door, with a big smile on his face, and just opened his arms.  And that is all it took, just him opening his arms, to make me feel like everything was not so out of control and it was all going to be okay.

My Dad always said that I would need to find me a patient man...and it's a good thing God took care of that.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

I keep thinking how I must look for this book at the library the next time I am there.  My princess got in to the habit of faking sick to stay home...or making several trips throughout the day to the nurses office to try and get out of class.  It became a real problem...a problem that has been remedied...but apparently picked up by my middle man.

On Monday, I got a call from the nurse at school (whom I know through work) saying that Landon did not look good at all.  He wasn't running a fever, but since he looked so terrible, she needed me to come and get him.  I jumped in the van and sped over to get my sick baby, who apparently looked so terribly ill.  I went inside and told the office who I was there for.  Minutes later, he walked out and I instantly knew the look on his face...he was faking it.  His eyes were barely open and he was doing something very weird with his mouth.  I was about to shout, "You guys have been punked!" but decided that since there were only two more hours in the school day, I was going to act like the compassionate mother and take my son (who looked to be near death) home.

Once getting out the front doors to the school, his eyes instantly became normal size and he suddenly began to talk 100 miles an hour.  He was healed...and wanted to play the computer when we got home.  I explained on the way back home that he could not play the computer and he was to lay on the couch when we got home because he was so sick.  I gave him some tylenol upon returning home and had him lay on the couch.  I asked him 15 minutes later how he was feeling.  He waited a minute and said, "If I tell you that I am feeling so good, do I have to go back to school?"  Busted.

I sat my son down and explained to him the importance of not only being at school, but also telling the truth.  I told him that I did not want another call home from him unless he was throwing up or had a fever or there would be serious consequences.  No more faking sick.

Well, Wednesday rolls around.  I drop him off at school and he seems just fine to me.  About three hours later, my phone rings.  The school name pops up on my caller ID and I can feel the anger build.  I answer the phone and the nurse says that she has Landon in the office and he looks terrible.  She also, told me that he was very reluctant to come and see her and was a little hesitant to walk in...his teacher made him go down.  Once down there, they took his temp and it was 101.7 and I needed to come and pick him up.  I was relieved that he wasn't faking it (felt bad that he was sick) and rushed to get him.

Later on that day, he looked up at me and said, "Momma, it's very hard to stay at school when you are feeling so sick especially when your mommy doesn't want you at home."  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what he just said...feel terrible or relieved that he got what I was telling him.

My middle man has strep for the fourth time...and I am still going to look for that book.

For Better or Worse

In two weeks, Dan and I will celebrate 8 years of marriage and it's got me thinking a whole lot about marriage...my marriage.

Almost eight years ago, I stood at the most beautiful wedding, in front of my now father-in-law (who married us), with a whole bunch of people watching and said vows to my now husband that went something like this:

"I, Bethany, take you, Daniel, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."

I have thought about these words many, many times...especially during the few times that I wanted to throw in the towel.  When I said these words, did I even realize what I was saying?  Was my mind so preoccupied that I even heard what was coming out of my mouth?  Did I think about the depth of these vows?  Did I think about to whom I was saying them?

If I am really honest, I didn't have a clue.  I had heard all of my life that marriage is forever.  I watched my parents model a wonderful relationship and they really made it look quite easy.  Married was something I knew I was going to be someday...and it would be wonderful...all of it.

I often joke that if it wasn't for kids, money, bills...and I am sure a few other things...we would have the perfect marriage.  But, life happens...stress happens...selfishness happens...sin happens...and you both are left staring at a wedding photo wondering who the heck those people were and what the heck were they thinking.

I have loved my husband through better and I have clung to him through the worse until I didn't think I could hang on any longer.  I have walked with him through the richer and crawled through the land of the poorer.  We have been through stuff.  Maybe not as big and some others, but we have had our share in the past eight years.  Have I enjoyed every single day?  No.  Have I been thankful for the worse and the poorer.  No.  Have I wanted to pack my bags and say to heck with it?  I sure have.

The truth is, we all have a 50/50 shot at making it...that's what the statistics say...whether we are Christians or not.  If my husband and I are not committed...if we are not making time for eachother...if we do not chose to "leave our father and mother"...if God is not our very center...you pretty much have a sunk ship...or you'll need no help sinking it yourself.

In a card I gave Dan on the morning of our wedding day, I wrote the words of Ruth : "Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried."  I was moving to a different state, away from my family, leaving my friends, my job, everything I knew...but I wanted to let him know that I was committed and I would follow him.

It is really by the grace of God that Dan and I have made it through the past two years...there's been so much...so much that I won't even go in to...maybe another time...but, I have a renewed commitment to my husband...a renewed commitment to making the time for him...a renewed commitment to respecting the man that God has given me...a renewed commitment to putting in the hard work.

Last night, as Dan and I were kissing in the kitchen, it was so nice to hear Kaitlyn in the background say something sarcastic about love.  I don't want them to think our marriage is perfect or that it's not a lot of hard work.  But, I do want to be secure in knowing that Mommy and Daddy are together forever...and we leave them at least once a month for a date and come home a lot happier!

Post Op...

Two weeks, already?!

My little girl had her post op appointment with the ENT that did her surgery yesterday.  Everything went just fine.  He said that she still has some healing to do, but things look pretty good back there.  They were shocked that she came in heavier than right before she went in to surgery.  For the past week or so she has been eating us out of house and home.  On Friday night, we had the cousins over for a sleepover and I ordered pizza.  She can't resist pizza and ended up scarfing down five pieces.  I was so concerned about her the first few days after surgery...especially after she stepped on the scale and was down four pounds.  It's nice to see that those four pounds (and a few ounces more) came right back on...and we don't have to safety pin her pants up nearly as tight.  On a sad note, her holes in her ears closed up.  I don't know what I was thinking, but I let her go a little over a week without them in after her surgery (I took them out the night before...first time since she got them pierced).  I tried to get them back in but her ear started to bleed and I couldn't even get them through to the back without causing her more pain than when she got them done.  She looked so cute with earrings...and now she doesn't want them anymore.  I am hoping she will change her mind.