Two Wheels...

Every mile stone that my Little Man hits, I am reminded that it's our last...it's the last time one of our children will take their first steps, it's the last time one of our children will say their first word.  I had Dan actually take a picture of me with the last breast milk bottle I pumped for my Littlest Man.  The lasts just keep coming...and unfortunately there is no pause button.


On Saturday, I went out grocery shopping by myself while Dan kept the kids entertained at home. I wasn't gone for that long...nor did I expect a last first to happen while I was away.

When I came home, my Littlest Man was on two wheels. His training wheels were tossed to the side. My Littlest Man is little for his age, but I could have sworn that he grew a couple inches while I was away. I was so excited for him, and frankly, I was thrilled that now I won't have him lagging behind on bike rides...bikes are much faster without those training wheels! It did however, remind me that we will be hitting another big, huge milestone in just a few months...my Littlest Man is going off to kindergarten in the fall...but for now, I like sitting in the driveway and watching him speed around on his two wheeled bike, his little bony legs peddling so fast, asking me to watch him...and I do because, afterall, there is no pause button.

The Question

Last night, the house was quiet.  All the children were snug in their beds and Dan and I were getting ready to watch The Deadliest Catch together.  I was summoned in to Kait's room.  She was wide awake and ready to chat.

My sister is due to have her fourth boy.  There's been a lot of talk about it around here.  Kait has been asking every morning and every night for the past few days if Aunt Calist has had her baby yet.  I guess it got her thinking.

I walked in to her room and she asked if Aunt Calist was in labor.  I told her that it didn't look like there was going to be a baby tonight.  I could see the wheels turning...and I braced for the question.  I didn't know exactly what question it would be, but I knew what direction this conversation was going:

"Mama, where do babies come out of exactly?"

It was in that instant, that her life flashed before my eyes.  In that split second, I imagined my little Kait, not even an hour old, wide eyed and curious, looking around at the big world...I imagined the nights walking her around the house to get her to sleep...I imagined her strong willed little spunk before she could even talk, her obsession with elmo, her saying her first words, taking her first steps, going off to school.  Where have the years gone?

I now have an almost eight year old asking me questions that I have to answer with words like, "vagina", "uterus", "placenta", "dilate", "hormones", and "hysterectomy"...yes, it was a pretty in depth conversation and she had a whole lot of questions...and some of my answers caused her eyes to get as big as saucers.  Never once did she get embarrassed.  Never once did she act uncomfortable.  It was as if we were talking about the weather or her day at school.

So when our conversation came to an end (it was way past her bed time and Daddy was getting a little antsy), I made sure to tell her that what we just talked about was something so special and private...not to be talked about with friends or joked about.  I let her know that she can come to me with any questions that she has and I will always be willing to sit down with her and talk about anything.  She looked at me with her big brown eyes...the same big eyes that I stared in to after she made her entrance in to this world...she had a big smile on her face and she said, "Do you think that tomorrow night we can talk about more stuff like this?  I have a few more questions."  And so, I made a date with my little girl, who is becoming not so little anymore, to talk about things that I can't believe I am talking about with her already.

I turned off her light, told her I loved her so much, and I fought back tears as I walked out of her room.  She's growing up...and there's not much I can do about it.  The thing is, people have warned me about this kinda thing...that they grow up way to quickly...and I don't know why it shocks me still.

Tonight, I am fully prepared for the question, "Mama, now that I know how babies come out, how exactly do they get in there?"

We've Ruined Her

...depending on how you look at it.

Back in March, when we went to Florida, the kids all spent a week sleeping on the floor in their sleeping bags.  They enjoyed it.  I assumed that they all missed their beds and would resume sleeping in them once we got home.

I was wrong.

Every night, but one, since then, Kaitlyn has made herself a bed on the floor.  After three weeks of sleeping on the floor, she informed me that I could sell her bed...she didn't need it anymore.

Maybe I have readied her for a third world country.

Or, maybe I have ruined her to a life of back problems and sleeping separately from her husband.

I really don't know.

But, I do know that last night she really freaked me out.

I was coming out of our bathroom and looked in the hall way to find this:

It reminded me a bit of a scene from a certain movie that gave me nightmares as a child.  Can you take a guess?  All that is missing is the house and the ruby red slippers, but you get the idea.

I am stumped.  I don't know how on earth this could be more comfortable than a bed, but whatever floats her boat. 

Collinisms (Funny things Little Man says)

My Middle Man stayed home from school today.  While I was waiting for the pediatrician's office to call me back to tell me when they would be able to fit us in, the boys were having a nice time playing together.  For the most part, they get along great.  My Little Man runs the show, while my Middle Man follows his lead, but makes suggestions along the way.  It's funny to sit back and listen to their conversations.  Little Man always has his head in the clouds...he's a dreamer...marches to the beat of a different drum...almost always his own.  Middle Man, however, is a thinker...he's a realist...a bit of a pessimist...a black and white sort of guy.

Middle Man was talking to Little Man about the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit)...a topic that is way over any four year olds head.  It was a cute conversation and Middle Man was trying so hard to explain it.  Little Man has had a bit of an obsession with talking about Satan lately, so the conversation automatically turned to how bad Satan is and how we should not follow him or pray to him.  Middle Man confirmed what Little Man was saying and told him that, indeed, we should only pray to Jesus.  I heard a bit of a gasp escape from Little Man and he quickly said, "Awww, you know what?  Aunt S is not being good.  She always tells us to pray to ourselves!  We should never pray to ourselves.  That's so bad, right?"  Which then turned in to a conversation about what "Praying to yourself" means and how it's not at all wrong.

****

On the way to the pediatrician's office, Little Man kept insisting that we were going the wrong way.  It's been a good winter and the kids have hardly been sick at all...it's nice that he has forgotten the way to the doctor.  I kept telling him that I knew where I was going and that he could just sit back and relax and before long he would be able to see that I knew what I was talking about.  Not long after that, it clicked for him that we were headed in the right direction and he burst out, "Mama, you are a genius!  You do know the way!"

My 30th

The days leading up to my big day, I was anticipating it with a healthy respect...that kinda verged a little on dread.  It wasn't so much the thought of being older as it was the thought of saying goodbye to my 20s...I hate goodbyes.

I wanted to celebrate in a big way...a day I would remember for the rest of my life...celebrate in a way that was me.  So, months in advance, I looked up races that were going to be held right on my 30th birthday...exactly how I wanted to ring in my thirties.

I ended up settling on The Illinois Marathon.  So, Friday afternoon, my family and I packed up and made the trek to Champaign-Urbana to check in to a hotel.  I was so happy to be able to get away with them...and even happier to wake up on my birthday with all of them sleeping around me.

My husband is not a morning person.  He is a talker, but not when he first wakes up...so it meant so much to me that he got up and spent time with me before I had to leave for my race.

I left my babies sleeping, kissed my husband goodbye, and snuck quietly out of the room to catch the shuttle to the starting line.

I walked in to the bathroom and found a little gift and cards from the kids waiting for me. 

Sitting in the bathroom talking with Dan before I had to go (the kids were all sleeping)...he wanted to get a shot of my new birthday socks. 

I had a great race. I won't go in to a mile by mile play by play that might bore you to death...I'll save that for my running blog. But, I will say that it was a different kind of run for me. I don't like racing alone. I had only done it once prior to this race and it was awful. I was nervous about this race and running 13.1 miles without a running buddy beside me. This race, I proved to myself that it's not so bad and I can do it. I can run my own race, motivate myself when I feel like walking, and have fun in a sea full of strangers. It was my two hours of worship,prayer, and thanksgiving. I crossed the finish line at the 50 yard line of Memorial Stadium and fought back tears of joy and thankfulness. After getting my medal and a bottle of water, I stood there looking around and taking it all in.

I met my family and made the quick drive back to the hotel to get showered. Dan caught me crying in the bathroom and asked what was wrong. Even though it was only 10:30 in the morning, my birthday was all I wanted it to be...with the exception of Jimmy Johns and cake (which came later).

My Princess with the sign she made to cheer me on. 

My Little Man with his sign he made. 

My Middle Man and the sign that he made. 

Posing with my race shirt and my new medal to add to my collection. 

The rest of the day was spent relaxing.  Before the kids went to bed, they came to me for thier goodnight hugs and kisses.  I kissed each one and thanked them for making my birthday so special.  My Middle Man asked me who helped make my birthday the most special.  The simple answer I gave him : Jesus, with Daddy being number two.  So much has changed and happened in these last ten years, but my Jesus has remained constant.  In my 20s, He gave me Dan, blessed me with three beautiful children, carried me through a miscarriage and a 22 month unemployment, brought healing, filled me with joy, brought wonderful friends in to my life, and cared for me so tenderly.  I spent my twentieth birthday with my Dan...which doesn't seem like so long ago, but in a lot of ways it does.  We have been through so much together these past ten years and I am looking forward to bringing in many more decades with him.

Tonight, I am just simply thankful.

Bring on my thirties!

Our Week in Florida

Our week in Florida was much needed and such a good time.  Not only was it our first week long family vacation, it was the first time any of our kids had been down to visit Dan's grandparents.  We spent the week shooting, riding around grandpa's property, fishing, going to the beach, going out to eat, and just relaxing.

We left at around 2:30AM on Saturday morning and drove straight through to Pensacola.  The last few hours were rough...Dan and I wanted to pull our hair out and the kids were (of course) restless, but we made it.

Sunday morning Dan loaded the kids up in the RTV and drove in front of me around his grandparent's property while I got a run in.  I was a little afraid of snakes, but luckily I didn't see any and so that gave me the confidence to go out a couple more times that week by myself.  Grandpa and Grandma took us out for Sunday dinner and then we had a relaxing evening at home.

Monday we decided to take a trip to the beach.  It was the kids first time at the ocean and they had a blast.  They were able to swim, collect a lot of shells, and soak up the Florida sun.

Tuesday we headed to The National Museum of Naval Aviation with Dan's grandparents.  It was an enjoyable time...but the kids lost interest quicker than Dan and I did.  After we spent a few hours there, they took us to McDonalds for lunch and even treated all of us to ice cream cones.  It seemed like we no sooner were finished there that they were taking us out to a place called Firehouse for dinner.  The kids were in Heaven.

Wednesday, we decided that since the weather was gorgeous again that we would head back to the beach for one last time.  It didn't seem like any of us got too much Sun on Monday, but when it was time to pack up and head home this time, we were all burnt.  The waves were huge and the kids enjoyed body surfing...my Middle Man especially.  It was a hard good bye.  I think the kids would have stayed at the beach a lot longer if we would have given them the option.  All of them loved it.  We came back home and Dan, the kids, and Grandpa spent the rest of the day fishing.  Dan was in his element and Kaitlyn is quite a natural little fisher girl.

Thursday was a sad day.  I found myself walking around with a little bit of dread.  It was our last day and the week just flew by way too fast.  It was so nice being together, eating together, sleeping together, doing everything together...that I hated to see it end.  Dan's grandparents took us to breakfast at Crackle Barrel...it was the kids' first time.  They were amazed that there was a store in a restaurant...and for a few days after that, Collin was begging to go back to "The Chipped Barrel".  We had a relaxing rest of the day exploring the property and looking for snakes to shoot.  That evening, Grandma put in a couple of Elvis movies and the kids loved them.

The next morning, we headed for home around five.  It was a sad goodbye.  I really hate that my kids' lives are filled with so many of them...more than I think there should be for their little hearts.  It crushes this Mama's heart when I hear a little voice from the back seat say how much they miss Great Grandpa, Great Grandma, Gammy, Poppy, or whoever we are leaving after an extended visit.  What's even worse is when I hear a tiny whimper or sob escape...my heart just aches for them.

We ended up getting home a little after 11 that night.  We were all sore, tired, and ready to fall in to our own beds.  While it was so nice to be home, I have to say, I missed our togetherness already...knowing that in the morning, there would be places we would have to be...a schedule to keep.  I loved every minute...every second, really...of our little get-away.  This past week, when the stresses of life crept back, the sleepless nights started again, the busyness took over, it was nice to sit down and flip through the pictures...close my eyes and be back there...and that will have to do for at least another year.

Thankful for the time away.

Suffering From A Vacation Hangover

We're back from a wonderful week in the Florida sun...a post on our vacation is coming soon...when I finally can get my head out of vacation mode.

Side of the Fridge

I am in love with what's hanging on the side of my fridge...clean & organized...my cup of tea!

He'll Be Back Again Someday...

...and hopefully not until December!

My Princess and my Middle Man with Frosty (My Littlest Man was inside.  He came down with Strep the night before)

Last Friday, we got a little bit of snow...six inches of wet, heavy snow.  I can't complain.  This mild winter has been wonderful!  We were excited to be able to play in it one last (crossing my fingers) time...and build our very first snowman of the year.  Frosty tipped over two days later with the warmer weather and yesterday he went missing.

Forecast for next week says high sixties...bring it on!

Her Best Friend Curtis

She tucks him in

before she heads off to school

in a new box

that suits him so nicely

she covers him

with the same "specials"

that she needed to sleep

when she was so little

and he waits for her

all day

to come home

to be reunited again

she walks in

he finds her

laying down and relaxing

and he'll come to her

lay on her chest

and go back to sleep

in the arms of his best friend.

No More

This marks the end of an era.  She came to me tonight and said that she knows that there is no Santa, no Easter Bunny, and (gasp) no Tooth Fairy.  I must say, I am totally relieved.

I grew up believing in Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy...and I have to add that I didn't resent my parents, didn't doubt Jesus was real, and wasn't at all disappointed.  So, when it came to raising our kids, our personal preference was to do the whole Santa thing...and whole heartedly believe that it doesn't scar children.  It's a choice.

Never did I think that she would go on believing in Santa until the age of seven and a half.  I was kinda thinking it would be a quick couple of years and then would come the big question and we'd be done.

My husband has been taking time to talk with Kaitlyn about deeper spiritual things.  She wants to be baptized and wants to learn more.  So, I guess this came up in a talk they had...the whole Santa thing.

She came to me tonight before bed and blurted out, "I know that there's no Santa.  That it's you and Daddy."  I smiled and acted surprised...just joking with her.  I asked her if she was disappointed that there's no Santa and no Tooth Fairy.  She laughed and replied, "Nope, because I still like getting gifts from you guys."  It's all good.

Santa and the Tooth Fairy are no more...the Easter Bunny...well, I still have nightmarish visions of him coming to our front door when I was little...he's real, and he's scary.

Frozen

He's the only one home with me. He's the youngest. He's enjoying his
time at home before he's off to kindergarten in the fall. I wish I
would have had a year with each of my kids alone like this.

There's never a dull moment with this one. His world is one of
amazement at the little things, an imagination gone completely wild,
and sweet talking like no one else. One day with him and you will
laugh more, smile more, stand in awe at things that you never have
before, and truly feel like you have lost your mind.

Today was no exception. My littlest man loves to pretend...and most
of all, he loves to play Polly Pocket's. I think it started out as an
obsession only because he could only play when his big sister was away
and it was to be our little secret. Now, he doesn't care...and she
loves that he will sit and play with her. So, after our usual play in
Polly World it was time to move on and play something else.

He was, of course, a prince...and I was some sort of maid or
something. He had a horse and was riding it around. He jumped off of
the horse to come in for some lemonade and juice (bowling pins) and
then announced that he was off to the zoo. I told him that he had
better ride his pony to the zoo. He looked at me, as serious as ever,
and said that he was actually going to ride his pink bunny to the
zoo...and away he hopped, sitting on a giant, stuffed pink bunny.

I called him on his cell minutes later to ask if I was supposed to
feed his horse while he was gone. I expected him to answer with a
simple yes...but I should know by now that nothing is ever simple with
my littlest man. He said, "Oh no, I forgot that I have the bag of
food in my pocket," and so he had to hop back home...with instructions
that I should not feed it all to her at one time. Minutes later, he
was back...and apparently he had gotten his PhD while away. He
instructed me to sit down and got out his stethoscope. "Beep, beep,
beep, beep," He said. "I hear your heart beeping." I asked if he
thought I was going to be okay. "It's beeping so fast. I think you
are going to die soon," and then he was off doing the dishes and
making us a grand meal...his being made up of mostly cookies and mine
being mostly veggies.

A day in the life. I just want to freeze him four forever.