Dropping the Ball - In More Ways Than One

It's New Year's Eve. The ball will drop in Times Square tonight. People are celebrating all that took place in 2011 and looking forward to the unknown of 2012. I used to love the anticipation of a new year, never knowing where I may end up in the next 365 days. But these days I'm just not feeling it. I've always used this blog to share the happy things in life, but I guess that's the reason I haven't updated lately...I'm not feeling too great most days.

I feel like I'm dropping every ball that I'm supposed to be juggling. Being a mom means there are several balls: laundry, cooking, cleaning, playing, teaching, mothering. That's exhausting enough, but I also have a full-time job in which I pretty much mother 80 other children through the day. Since Ezra's been born I feel like so many of my balls have fallen that I don't know that I'll ever see the days when I can juggle successfully again. I'm not blaming Ezra for my shortcomings, but I've been off since we brought him home. Having three kids is a lot. It has gotten so bad that most nights I'm washing clothes for the next day, I have to wash dishes in order to eat, several nights our meals leave much to be desired (if I can even muster the energy to cook), and I don't play nearly as much as I used to. I usually don't let my problems affect me at work, but this year has been the most difficult I've had as a teacher. More often than not I would rather not be around people so dealing with 20-30 teens at a time makes me shut down. I hate giving worksheets, but that has been my style the past few weeks. These days the job of pretending to be the happy person I once was has gotten to be too much to handle. I wish I could be that person without pretending.

Last night it hit me that I really don't have any true, know all about me and I know all about you friends like I used to. I've put the past six and a half years into Ronnie being my main squeeze that I've dropped the friendship ball with all of my former friends. The saddest realization last night was that the closest girlfriend that I've had has been in Heaven for almost four years. I still catch myself wanting to give her a call or send her an email to get advice, see how she's doing and just chit chat like we used to. But then I remember I can't. She truly understood me. On the other hand, I find it almost impossible to make new friends. I'm friendly and all (I think), but I'm not sure I'm capable of being a true friend to anyone anymore. Most of the time I just get irritated about things (things that Ronnie tells me should be non-issues) and block people off. Maybe I can work on that next year...

So I don't know what the point of my little sob story was. I just needed to get it off my chest. I have no one else that I talk to so my little blog gets it all. For me it's easier to write it all out than to talk about it anyways. Hopefully I'll feel up to juggling sometime soon.

The highlights of 2011 (at least the ones I remember)

In January Ethan turned 4 and Elijah turned 1. They each had fun parties even though Elijah's had to be postponed due to him having RSV on the scheduled day. Speaking of Elijah being sick, he ended up having several ear infections and was constantly on medications until spring came. We found out that our third child would be a boy. We welcomed our Ezra to the family. We went camping in Virginia with Uncle B and Daniela. Ronnie and I went on a real date...the first in years. My brain's too tired to think of any more right now....

A Hard Post to Write

I know I haven't posted in forever, but I have think I have good reason. I am pretty busy with raising three beautiful (yes, boys can be beautiful) boys, working full time and managing our home (maybe not too well, but I am trying). But last week I decided that it was time to write a post, even though it's one that I don't want to write.

Back when Ronnie and I had been married for 5 months in October 2005, we found out that I was pregnant. We were surprised, but we were excited. We knew that we wanted kids one day, but I was finishing up my degree, finances were tight, and we were just enjoying being married. But we were so very excited that an unexpected miracle was coming our way. I went and got the pregnancy confirmed on Halloween of all days. We were busting at the seams and told everyone because we couldn't contain our happiness. I made an appointment with the OB and we were cruising along.

On November 9, things changed. I discovered that I had started bleeding. I probably called for Ronnie, but I don't remember. Why was this happening? Would we lose our baby? I called the doctor and was given an appointment for the next day. I went in and the doctor did an exam and then sent me for an ultrasound. Of course, those ultrasound techs can never tell you what's going on. Annoying, yes, but that's the rule. We tried to act cool. I remember going to Subway because Ronnie wanted me to eat, but all I did was sit at the booth and cry. I just knew our baby was gone. We went home and waited by the phone all day. The doctor didn't call until after 7.00 that night. She was so impersonal. I remember her telling me that there "was nothing there" like my baby had never existed. She didn't ask if I was ok. I had to ask what the next step was. She basically said that nature was taking care of things and I would be fine. I hung up the phone and lost it. I cried like I had never cried before. Ronnie held me and cried like I have never seen before or since. I pray to never see that kind of pain in his eyes again. We were crushed. We told my parents and then drove over to tell his because we didn't want to deliver that news over the phone. I remember trying to be strong in front of others, but when we were alone how we would cry. Ronnie stopped crying before I did. Some days I still cry. Like now, while I'm typing this.

I go through times when I am glad that we experienced the loss of a baby. I know that it helps me be more thankful for the children we have here to hold and love. I have times when I wonder what he or she would have been like. Was that our baby girl? Or would it have been another boy? Most of the time I'm thankful for the loss, because had I carried the baby to term, Ethan would not be here now. The baby would have been born in early June, but Ethan was created in April. There were times when we would see pregnant women or little babies and I would get so upset. Why couldn't I keep my baby? What had I done to make God take my baby? Would I ever get to love a child of my own?

I don't know God's plan. None of us do. I was hurt, but I made it through. I didn't know back then how common it is for women to miscarry. I know now that it happens pretty often. Does that make it hurt less? No. I know that no matter what anybody tells you that it doesn't make it any better. I hated hearing that I would have another baby one day, that there was probably something wrong with the baby so it was for the better, that it wasn't a good time for us anyway. What meant the most was the people that called to say they were sorry, the cards I got that told me I was being prayed for, the friends I had that listened and held me while I cried. So, for anyone that may be going through the loss of a little miracle, I empathize with you. I know it's hard, but you will make it through. You will have a child waiting for you in Heaven just like we do.

I Get To

I had to go to the doctor this morning for my postpartum checkup. Although I was stressed about leaving Ezra for the first time, a little break was really what I needed.

I had gotten into a weird funk. It hits me every now and then. I get tired of sitting at home with the boys with nothing to do other than clean, cook, change diapers, clean, change diapers, cook, change diapers and clean again. I feel like I lose who I am in all the activities that I "have" to do. I get upset with the boys too easily and I start to envy Ronnie because he gets to leave everyday to go to work, plus he gets his extracurricular time with the fire department while I have to stay home. I start my little pity party and start asking when I get to go do something alone, when do I get to just walk out the house to do something and not have to tow three littles or worry about who they'll be staying with.

So anyway, on the way home from the doctor's office, I heard the song "I Get To" by Jeff and Sheri Easter. As I listened to the words I realized that so many of the things I experience every day are things that I "get" to do. So what if I spend all day cooking, cleaning, and wiping bottoms because I am fortunate enough to "get" to be at home with my boys right now. I "get" to decide what meals to make for my family because we are lucky enough to afford that luxury. I "get" to clean a house that God has provided for us. I "get" to go to a wonderful church and I "get" to spend time worshipping with people I care about. I get to do so many things, but I have to remind myself of these things. The world may look at me and think that I have a pitiful life, but I "get" to have a very rich life that only gets better and better.

My August Baby

It seems like yesterday when I gave Ronnie a positive pregnancy test on Christmas Eve. But it seems so long ago at the same time. So much has happened this year and we have been so blessed.

My pregnancy progressed without any issues until my second glucose tolerance test in late May. I took the test and after a week of not hearing anything and not wanting to jump the gun on the "no news is good news" policy like I did last time, I had Ronnie call the office for the results. The nurse told him that I had passed, but just barely. We were so happy! But that relief didn't last long. When I went in to see Dr. Richardson the next week he told me that I had failed and would have to come back in for the three hour test. Ugh. Since it was the end of the school year and things were getting hectic. And the fact that I really didn't want to spend three hours in a doctor's office, fast for hours, or get blood drawn four times in one morning, I asked the doctor if I could just skip the test. He looked at me like I was crazy. So I explained that I was probably going to fail anyways, so couldn't I just start monitoring my glucose levels and save me the troubles? Please. It only took him a few minutes to agree by claiming that a two week long monitor was more accurate than the three hour test anyway, but that I had to get going. No problem. I can't remember when they gave me the meds, but I was put on medicince because my fasting numbers were to high. Then they increased them, and then again. And again. By the time I had the baby I was on four times as much medicine as I was the time before. My body just could not tolerate the glucose.

As a result of the diabetes I had to go in for a growth scan at 35 weeks. At that point the baby was weighing right at 7 pounds. Then I had another growth scan at 38 weeks and he weighed approximately 8 pounds, 6 ounces. I had more ultrasounds than any of my other pregnancies since I had the regular one at 20 weeks and then one at 30 weeks to check the fibroids that were discovered at the previous one. By the time of my 38 week appointment the doctor had already scheduled my induction for 39 weeks, August 9.

Monday night, August 8, Ronnie's mom came over the stay the night so we wouldn't have to disturb Ethan and Elijah the next morning since we were scheduled to be at the hospital at 5.30 a.m. We went to bed late, anxious to meet our new little boy.

Tuesday morning we were up before bright and early. While I was in the shower Ronnie called the hospital and they were ready for us. They told us to be there at 6. We grabbed our bags and started to the hospital. Note: I almost had a heart attack when the car stalled in town. How on earth would we make it to the hospital? I wasn't walking! But the car started right back up and we were on our way.

At the the hospital we got put in our room and I changed and we waited on the nurses. They checked me in, asking all those personal questions. Then another nurse started the IV. Ronnie, who never eats breakfast, went to get something to eat, and a nurse started me on pitocin. Dr. Richardson stopped by to see me and I was only at a 1.5.

The morning was pretty uneventful for awhile. We talked, checked things online via my Nook, and watched tv. When the doctor checked me and I was a 3, so he attempted to break my water, but could only poke a hole. After a bit the contractions started getting a little more painful. When nurse Pam checked me I was at a 5. When she checked me, my water began to leak finally and at that point I really thought I could go without an epidural. The contractions were tolerable and Ronnie was helping me get through them by rubbing my back and being encouraging. He does have a good side. :)

As the time went on the contractions were getting a little less tolerable. I kept asking Ronnie if I should get an epidural. Like he would know. He told me that I was the one in labor and it was my decision. Finally I decided to get checked and if I was close I would go without one, but it not I was getting an epidural asap. I called Pam to check me and I was only at a 6-7. Ugh. Call for the epidural. Looking back, I really think I could have made it longer if I hadn't been stuck in bed. My back was killing me, but I think a lot of the pain came from the fact that the bed broke down right in the small of my back creating a weird angle and not much support.

It didn't take long for the anesthesiologist to get there and he was just plain awesome. He was so much nicer than the guy I had for the other two and was very concerned about my pain. He waited through each contraction and explained everything throughout the process. The epidural took without any problem and he left.

Then the fun began. Not. It was just me and Ronnie in the room and I told him I felt sick. I lay there for a little longer and felt even more sick. I called the desk and told them. A nurse brought me an alcohol pad to sniff and it helped ease the nausea a little. I thought it could try to doze off for a minute it may help, but it didn't. I told Ronnie I needed something because I was gonna throw up. He grabbed one of those little things that the hospital has for you to get sick in, but it really isn't worth a diddly. I started throwing up and it went all over me. Gross. But true. I was out of it. I felt worse than I have ever felt. Ronnie remained calm and started cleaning me up using the puppy pads that are supposed to be on the bed. While he was doing this he called the nurse and said that we needed them and "NOW." Have I mentioned that I just love him? I do. The nurses came in and started cleaning me up and injecting medicine in my IV. My blood pressure had plummeted and was at 70 something over 50 something and dropping. They were checking it continuously and I remember it was driving me crazy squeezing my arm. Finally my BP started back up and the second or third dose of drugs kicked in and I started feeling better. Pam looked at me and said I looked much better. She said that when she came in I had no color, that my lips had disappeared. I'm a pretty dark white girl and for me to have no color is a pretty big deal.

At that point all I wanted to do was sleep. All my energy had been zapped and I knew I wouldn't make it if I didn't get a little rest. I put a pillow over my head and fell asleep.

I woke up with a lot of pressure. I thought maybe I was ready to push. But then again, maybe not. I waited a couple of contractions and called Pam. I told her I needed to be checked. She said she was on her way. When she came in, Dr. Richardson came with her and he checked me. I was at a 10. At the next contraction he said he could feel the baby's head push down and that I could start pushing. Pam started breaking the bed apart. At this point Ronnie turned off the tv and came over. I told him to get the camera because it wasn't going to be long. At the next contraction the doctor told me to push, while he was slowly getting dressed. When I pushed he looked over and was suprised to see the baby's head. They stepped a little faster and at the next push they said it would probably only take one more. Sure enough, on the third contration, Ezra made his entrance into the world at 3.33 on August 9, 2011, weighing 8 pounds, 8 ounces and measuring 22 inches long.

It's been a month and a day and our love for him grows everyday. Life is a challenge with three little boys, but I wouldn't trade them for anything.

Check!

I tried to go back and figure out how to cross things off of my checklist, but couldn't so I figured I would check things off in another post. Ya know, to make me feel like I'm making progress!

I paid off my student loan! Yippee!!! My college education is paid in full! I "paid back" Teaching Fellows at the end of last school year and now that this little loan is gone I feel so good! I am thankful for my education and what it allows me to do for my family and students, but I'll be glad to not make another payment for it!

Since I was feeling so good about that I decided to go ahead and order Elijah's diapers. I just placed an order for a dozen prefolds so that we can get back in cloth. I am waiting on the fabric shop that I use to reopen so that I can order some waterproof material and get to work on some covers.

I think that's all for now!

Oh bother!

It seems that I have lost my mind with this pregnancy!

With nothing but VBS to focus on last week I was able to sleep and rest and do my thing at church all week.

But this week has been another story. I knew I had an appointment with the OB on Tuesday, but I couldn't remember the time so I called that morning to ask. The lady was too sweet when she said, "It was at 2.20 yesterday." OOPS! I so missed it! So she scheduled me for this coming Friday morning.

That whole little scenario plus a few others from the past few weeks added up to me being frustrated with myself and feeling more than a little upset. I almost cried telling Ronnie about it and he told me to calm down because we all make mistakes sometimes. Ok. I get it.

Then later in the day, the phone rang. I jumped up to grab it, somehow stepped on a book that one of the boys left in the floor, went sailing through the air (great image, right?) and landed on my bottom/back and left wrist. The combination of pain and self frustration was too much and I started bawling like a baby. This scared Elijah who did the same. All of this led Ethan to be the one to go get the phone, call his daddy and scream, "My mama fell down! She's hurt bad!" I really don't know how Ronnie responded, but Ethan was giving him the best information that he could. Finally Ronnie convinced him to let me have the phone. The first thing I hear is him talking on the other phone telling my brother to send his wife over because I had fallen and was hurt. Ahhhh, the joys of being pregnant and having such a protective husband!

I eventually got out of the floor. I also chewed Ronnie out for sending someone over here because I was fine and didn't need anyone. He didn't buy all that. And then my sister-in-law showed up. She ended up staying for a few hours and made sure I was ok. It was nice to have someone over while I chilled in the bed...ok maybe we were all piled up in the bed. But it was nice to have someone help with the boys. And the boys...they weren't traumatized. They were pretending that my closet was their house, Ethan was the daddy and Elijah was his son, and we had to ring the doorbell (bucket of legos) to gain entry. The cutest thing was finding Elijah sitting on the shelf peeking out from behind a few clothes, grinning like he was something.

After all of those events I decided to wait for Ronnie to get home so we could go get groceries together. We stopped at Chik-fil-a, (Ethan's choice) and headed to Wally World. Before we got there my sugar dropped so I decided I would get a combo with a Coke (woohoo!)...my first in 3 weeks. Then afterwards my sugar spiked. So it seems that I can't win for losing.

Here's to hoping things start going a little better, at least a little less eventful, and that I survive this pregnancy!

Sweet Summertime

It's been official for over a week now! I'm on SUMMER VACATION! This post is going to share a few things: VBS, my summer goals, and who knows what else!

I haven't really felt like I wasn't working because we had VBS at our church last week. It was a wonderful, tiring, inspiring week and I would do it all over again! Although our church has now been without a pastor for a year, and we had a rough start to the year after a negative vote for a potential pastor, I was so proud of the way so many members stepped up to do their parts this time. After no one else volunteered to direct, I bit the bullet. I discussed with Ronnie how I felt that I should direct, but all the excuses I had...I have two kids to deal with, I'll be hugely pregnant, I just have too many other things to do...and I ended up directing anyways. And am I glad that I did! My first obstacle was finding a program to use. Our church is strictly KJV and the company we usually use was not presenting me with a very good vibe. So I researched and found Bogard Press. This company is strictly KJV and they provide an excellent VBS that is complete and very useful. Thankfully, after I presented the new curriculum teachers volunteered immediately, then the leaders, then the craft director and puppeteers! I was so pleased with everyone's enthusiasm! The only person I didn't get was a music director, but since I have a loud mouth and don't embarrass too easily, I figured I would do it myself. All in all this VBS turned out wonderfully. The adults and kids were excited and everyone worked together. The Lord was truly lifted up at our church last week and I thank Him for all the blessings he has provided us!

Now that VBS is over for the summer there are so many things on my to do list. I decided that I should probably make an actual list somewhere so I can hold myself accountable. The only problem with my grand plans is that my blood glucose is high and my blood pressure has been jumping up as well so I am concerned that I may be bed rested sooner rather than later. Boo. But there are things I want to do.

School related:
-In July I have been invited to sit on a team to restructure the curriculum for World Languages in our county. I would really like to do this over the 4 days so we'll see how it plays out with appointments and such.
-In August I signed up for a full day workshop on Moodle. And by August I mean it is one week before my due date. I really would enjoy this workshop and would like to use it on my maternity leave, but I'll have to make it there first. We'll see what happens, I guess.

Kid related:
-I really want to continue working with Ethan with things that he has learned at daycare this past year. My goal was to have a schedule similar to Mrs. Martha's, but I'm pretty sure sleeping until 9.30 isn't helping me off to a good start. I'll have to work on this one.
-Ronnie and I know that a huge vacation is out of the picture this year. We're working on our debt free journey so we don't want to throw a huge chunk of money into a hotel or gas, plus we're saving all that we can to use while I am on maternity leave. We also realize that with all the things going on in our lives we don't have much time to vacation and then we don't want to travel too close to my due date. So our goal is to take the boys on some mini day/weekend trips in the area. We would like to take them to the Transportation Museum to check out the trains and to one of a couple of local museums that have cool dinosaur exhibits. We'll see how the trips go and how much walking I can handle.

Craft related:
-I have gotten out of the cloth diaper habit. And it makes me sad and mad. Sad because I love how cloth looks on Elijah's little bum and mad because I HATE paying for paper diapers that stink and go in the trash! So I would like to get the stuff to make him some covers and some for the baby. I also want to get some good prefolds like these.
-I want to get some scrapbooks finished...or started for that matter. I bought a groupon to order photobooks from a website so I'm going to start there.
-I'd like to try making vinyl decals. I've just been too cheap to buy the vinyl.
-I want to take more pictures, but I feel too crappy to do it. I am photographing my cousin's wedding next month and I really hope it goes well.

House related:
-I'd like to get this house situated the way I want it. I still need to paint the kitchen/dining room, laundry room, boys' bathroom and playroom.
-We want to put in an official walkway. But I can't decide how I want it to look. I've priced a couple of things and I'll need to come up with at least $500 extra in order to do this.
-We also want to take the carpet out of the living room and put in hard wood flooring. I found what I want, once again the money is the main issue. But at least I think I know what I want.

Finance related:
-Pay off my student loan! This will hopefully be checked off next week when I get paid! Yay!
-Start a snowball with the money usually used for the loan. I want to be debt free!
-Get better at using coupons and sales so I won't spend so much on groceries. This is especially hard now that I'm on a special diet.

That's all I can think of right now, but I'll update as needed. Hopefully I'll be posting lots more on the blog now that I have "more" time. :)

To my baby

There are so many thoughts racing through my mind. Life is going crazy right now, but I want to take a moment to write a little note to my baby to let him know how loved he is.

Dear sweet boy,
It is true...you were a surprise. A very welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. There has never been a moment since we found out about you that we didn't want you. Once your impending arrival was made known, you were loved. And you will always be loved.
It is also true that this has not been an easy pregnancy. I thought to take a test because I felt pretty rough, tired and moody. The tiredness has not gone away. I have felt the effects of exhaustion since December...it's June now. But I love you and that's what keeps me going.
Then when we found out you were a boy, we also found out that I have fibroids. The doctor explained that I am at increased risk of preterm labor and that they may grow quickly and get in the way of a normal delivery. My concern was and is you...I want you to have all the room you need. And for your arrival to go smoothly. I was told that there would be another ultrasound at around 30 weeks.
Two weeks ago I had my second glucola test. It was nasty and made me feel pretty bad. My blood pressure went too high, but the doctor said it was probably just the test and didn't get too concerned. Your daddy called the office last week and they told him that I had passed the test. Yay! I was very happy because it meant that you wouldn't have to have your heels pricked so much once you get here. And maybe you wouldn't be too big. Both good things. But I got a message yesterday to call the doctor. I did, but they didn't return the call. So I knew I would get "the talk" at the office when I went in today. Daddy went with me because we were getting to see you in another ultrasound. The technician is such a sweet lady and she told us so much. First, she told me that you are breech. I wasn't concerned, but she told me I need to do all I can to turn you...even get on my hands and knees with my bum in the air as often as I can. I may look silly, but I'll do it for you. This also explains why it feels like you're trying to kick your way out. She also told me that your fluid is low. It's not that bad, but these things make me worry since I really want everything to be ok for you. She showed you to us and we oohed and ahhed. We think you look like your brothers, which isn't a bad thing. You were trying to get comfy and you smacked your little lips together in the cutest way. It made me realize how badly I can't wait for you to get here so I can hold you and get lost in that baby face! Then we went to see the doctor. My blood pressure was high, again. And I got the talk I feared. He told me that I failed the glucose test. Just great. So he wanted to schedule me for a three hour test, but I convinced him to let me monitor my levels for a week and we would go from there. Whew. Then he told me that you are big. How big? You weigh 4 pounds and 5 ounces. A lot more than you should right now. That puts you two weeks ahead of where you should be. So I may get to see your handsome face sooner than August 16th.
Tonight I am frustrated because I don't want to deal with all of this. And your biggest brother has been a challenge. And your big brother was so tired by the time I got home that I didn't get to see him much. I just had to get it all out, to get it off my chest. God and I will talk about it before I go to sleep, but I wanted to write it down so I won't forget it. I want you to know the things that happened before you got here and I know my memory won't hold up that long. But the most important thing is that you know that you are loved. And I can guarantee that will never change. Love you Baby! Love, Mama

Happiness Revealed!

So I'll be the first to admit that I have been more than a little slack with my blogging as of late. I keep telling myself that I'll do better. I think I even made it a resolution, but you know how those go. I think it's time that I come clean on my little 'ol blog so I thought I would share a story of surprising happiness with you all. Go back to Christmas. Remember all the good things...the smells of cookies and favorite meals, the taste of hot chocolate, staying up late wrapping gifts, shopping like a mad person, snuggling with the ones you love. Ahhhh.... Well, I looked forward to the holidays so much this year! I was too excited as we would be a family of four and we would celebrate Elijah's first Christmas with us! But I was exhausted. Not just tired at the end of the day, but dragging myself out of bed, needing a nap, going to bed early exhausted. I couldn't figure out why. It had just hit me within the last month or so and I couldn't get over it. The whole first week of break from school all I could do was sleep. I took as many naps as Elijah did that week. On December 23, Ethan and I had a little talk. He informed me that he needed a little sister. I guess he could ask for one...it was Christmas after all. I asked him where we would find one of those. His response shocked me. He told me that she was in my belly. What?!?! Then I thought about some personal things and realized that my lovely firstborn may be onto something. On Christmas Eve Ronnie had to leave for work at 3am. I had snuck a pregnancy test at Wal-Mart the day before and was about to burst when Ronnie got up to leave. I don't know why, but I just didn't want him to be there when I took the test. I guess I didn't want him to think I was crazy when it was negative. But I didn't think about what would happen if it was indeed positive. Any who...Ronnie left, I peed, and I think that little stick turned positive before Ronnie pulled out of the drive. Oh my! We were going to have our 3rd baby!!! I went back to bed and had a million thoughts racing through my brain. This is what I came up with. I wrapped Ronnie a gift to open when he got home from work. And I swear I got my most favorite picture of my husband when he finally realized what those two pink lines meant! So, our little "Pumpkin" was confirmed and we had an ultrasound in March. This is the little person that will be joining our family in August! And I'm still going to be able to say, "my boys" because this is boy #3! We're so thrilled!

Ok, so it's after 9.30, I'm exhausted (still) and Ethan is whining so I'm going to stop rambling and go my huge preggo tail to bed. Goodnight all!

I discovered that I'm a perfectionist!

Yep. You read the title correctly! And if you know me personally, you're sitting there with a quizzical look on your face wondering how in the world I could ever be classified as a perfectionist. I understand your confusion, but I really think that I'm onto something here, so please, allow me to explain. I have so many ideas and thoughts flying through my brain at any second that most of the time even I can't keep up with myself. I have big plans for EVERYTHING! I want to do so many things...exercise, eat right, cook nice meals for my family, clean my house and keep it tidy, play with my kids, spend time with my husband, visit friends, read, landscape my yard, decorate my home, figure out our budget, craft (oh the many ideas I have!), take classes, photograph people and places, start a business so I can work at home and the list goes on and on and on and on! In my brain I should do each and every one of these things plus many more. And I know EXACTLY how they should be. I want everything to be just the way I picture it in my head! I want to already be skinny when I exercise (except for the pregnant part), I want to have a perfect kitchen with all the tools I need, I want my house decorated perfectly and just update it here and there, I want to be the greatest photographer, I want our budget to work out precisely. But. None. Of. This. Is. Realistic. There, I said it. It's just not realistic. My goals are grand, but they're not realistic for me. Right now. I want to be perfect, but I'm not. (Close, but that only counts in horseshoes and grenades, right?) I must realize that I absolutely cannot do it all and do it all perfectly. I struggle with this all the time. I just had a wonderful week off of work for Spring Break and barely made it through 1/3 of the items on my to do list. Then I got mad at myself. What was so wrong with me that I couldn't get all of that done in 9 days? Why could I not just get it done? Why did I waste so much time? I have thought and thought. I got closer to getting depressed. Which then made me wonder why I couldn't handle myself. Ugh. I got in a weird funk. And I didn't like it. But then it hit me! I've been reading so many things to help me do some of those things I mentioned earlier. Dave Ramsey for budgeting. Flylady for cleaning. House of Smith for decorating. Kelle Hampton and others for photography. And various sites for recipes and craft ideas. They all have something in common: baby steps. Baby steps. Start where you are. Now there's an idea. No one can do it all. Each one of us has to do everything a little at a time. I have to stop beating myself up for not doing it all. I do plenty. I get up each day...a huge blessing from God. I have the privilege of getting my two darling boys up, ready and to their caretakers. I work at a job I chose with people that I love. I go home to a wonderful family. I cook for them. I wash their dirty clothes. I feed them. I wash dirty little bodies. I nurture another precious soul growing inside of me. I do so much so how can I compare myself to those that I think have it all together. I juggle. And there are balls that get dropped. I don't have a spotless home. It's very lived in. Sometimes I wash the clothes the night before and dry them the morning that we wear them. Sometimes I only make a pot of macaroni for supper. Sometimes I have to ignore a child in order to get something else done. But I'm juggling. The balls that I drop don't always stay on the ground. They rotate. I pick one up and do ok for awhile before I drop another. And the process continues. I feel so much better after getting all these thoughts out of my head. I picked up the blog ball...hopefully it won't drop anytime soon. So tell me, what ball do you drop? How do you cope with not being able to do it all? I know I'm not the only one.

Mama Bear Syndrome

As I sit here typing I can hear Elijah napping in his crib. It's a good sound, but a sound I've heard too much this year. Before you call me crazy, let me explain. His breathing sounds pitiful. He's congested and I can hear it, plus there's a sad little cough that comes into play every so often.

I got to Gram Jackie's yesterday to pick him up and his cheeks were way past rosy red, his whole body was hot to the touch, he wasn't playing and since he had been tugging at his ears for a few days I knew the familiarity of the situation all too well....another ear infection. The fourth one this year. He had one at the beginning of January, and as soon as he finished the anitbiotic for it he developed (or had a recurrence) another one. Less than two weeks later he was fighting RSV and his third double ear infection. The kid has had too many antibiotics and too many nebulizer treatments this year.

After I thought about what the weekend with a closed doctor's office would present, I decided to call the pediatritian to see if they could fit us in before they closed. I called, explained the sitution and was told that if I got there by 4.30 they would see my child. I was told this after telling the lady that I was 30 minutes away and it was already 4.05. So, the Mama Bear in this nice, non-confrontational girl came out. I snipped back, "What if I don't come and he gets worse this weekend?" I was told to take him to urgent care, to which I responded, "So I can pay three times as much as a doctor's appointment would cost?!" She asked if I was coming your not. I told her I would try, but that if I got there and they refused to see him that "I would be pissed at all the gas I wasted trying to get there." I'm telling you this about Mama Bear Syndrome: you don't want to be on the receiving end of it. What is this syndrome of which I speak? It's when a normally easy going, roll with the punches mother feels that the welfare of her child is being threatened. Like when one sees a cuddly little bear cub in the woods and starts to ooh and ahh, but then here comes a burly mama out of the woods ready to clobber anyone who even looks like he may cause issues for her dear cub. You don't mess with my babies. Period. I drove like a bat out of Hades, way faster than I should have gone through a construction zone (I didn't see any workers and I was paying careful attention), got to my exit and made it to the first stoplight with just enough time to find that traffic was backed up all the way to the office. I wasn't going to make it. I started to cry...the ugly cry. I know the guy on the opposite side of the road was thinking that I had lost my mind, but I didn't care. I had let my baby down. He wasn't feeling well and I couldn't get him what he needed. I felt like a failure. After several light changes, and way after 4.30 I pulled in the parking lot, got out to get Elijah, but changed my mind after finding him sleeping peacefully. I thought, "Screw it. I'm going home. I can take care of my baby and I'll get him care this weekend if he doesn't get any better." I pulled out of the parking lot. But Mama Bear came roaring back at the stop light and I thought to myself, "you're going to take your child in there and if they don't see him you're gonna tell them it was nice doing business with them, but if they don't care about your child, you don't care to patronize their office." I'm telling you, without Mama Bear I would never have the balls to do that.

To wrap up what really seemed like a short story, but has gone on forever now, we went in the office and no one acted like I was inconveniencing them at all. I made sure the receptionist knew it was after my deadline only to find it was no big deal. I paid, the nurse weighed my growing Little Man (over 23 pounds!) and we waited on the doctor. When he said the first ear was clear I started to feel like I had gone through all of this for nothing, but the other ear was starting to look rough so I felt validated. So here we are on the fourth round of antibiotics and hunkering down inside on this windy Saturday.

I know I'm not alone. Who else has had a Mama Bear Syndrome moment? According to Feedjit, I've had several new readers and I'm excited to hear from you!

Have a wonderful weekend! Share it with the ones you love!

Renee!

And just one more post for a special person!

My friend, my buddy, my pal! RENEE!

A year ago I was extremely pregnant and went on maternity leave during exams. While I was gone a new English teacher was hired in my building. I wasn't sure what to think about her. I heard she was young and a very good teacher. I hoped that she would be half-way normal and that I would be able to get along with her.

I went back to school in April, right after Spring Break. The first few days were a blur, but I slowly got to know things about this new chick. As it turned out, she's only a year older than me, our husbands are about the same age, and we each have two sons. I eventually found out that she has a blog, she likes to scrapbook and that we have lots of the same thoughts on several issues. A year later, I am glad to call Renee a friend. And I want to wish her the happiest birthday yet! You deserve it girl! See you in the morning!

2011

Wow, that was fast! I guess I'm on a roll while I should be fixing some grub for my family, but I'll get to them eventually.

Since the new year started I've been thinking a lot about things that I want to accomplish this year. I don't want to lose weight or make any of those goals that never get past January. I want to do other things. I want to be a better person. The things that I want to accomplish will help me become a better Melissa, I hope. Not that I'm a bad person, but I'm not perfect yet, so there's still room for improvement.

I want to be a better Christian. I want to pray more, read my Bible through and attend church regularly. I've slacked on these things recently so this will take some work. But the good news is that God is on my side and I think He approves these goals and will be more than willing to help me!

I want to be a better wife. Of course I'm already so close to perfect in this aspect that it will be difficult to improve, but I know there are days that I could do a little more for the wonderful husband that I have. I asked Ronnie what I could do, and in his I'm-giving-the-only-answer-that-won't-land-me-in-the-doghouse way, he told me he can't think of anything more that I could do for him. Yeah. I bet. Just kidding. We're pretty happy married folks, and to keep it that way I'm going to think twice before I say the wrong things and jump at more opportunities to make him a happily married man.

I want to be a better mother. I feel that this gets harder and easier at the same time. The longer I have my children the better I understand what I'm doing, which helps, but with more children comes more responsibility and I feel like I still struggle to give both boys all the attention they each need. And this will only become more of an issue as time goes on.

I think that's about it for now. A little person has attacked me and I think I'm getting hungry enough to scrounge up some vittles.

Yes, I Am Still Alive

Wow! It seems like Halloween was only yesterday! So much has happened so I am WAY behind in the blogging world! I apologize to each of my readers...especially the ones who sent me messages asking when I was going to update. But the good news is that I am back. And hopefully I won't disappear like that again.

Here's a quick recap of what has happened (and things I need to blog about) in the past few months.

November: My brother got married at the beginning of the month and then my little family enjoyed our Thanksgiving.

December: District Beta Convention was a success, I sprained my ankle, and Christmas was one of the best yet!

January: Ethan has had a birthday and we've been snowed in excessively!

Be on the lookout for more posts from yours truly!