From Self-Soother to Sleep-Depriver

It is shocking to me how different my kids are.

I used to be that mom who didn't understand why people couldn't let their babies cry it out. It annoyed me how there was a population of weak mothers that wouldn't allow their infants to self-soothe, choosing instead to deprive themselves of any decent sleep whatsoever.

You see, I did the whole cry-it-out thing with Wyatt, and it was easy. Yes, he cried... for 2.5 minutes and then would sleep for 12 hours straight. The kid also napped a minimum of 5-6 hours during the day. I remember laying him down in his crib, watching him roll over and say "nigh nigh". As I exited the room, I would smugly think to myself that those 2.5 minutes of whimpering were so worth it- I mean it produced the best sleeping baby in the entire world. If every new mom would just buck up and refrain from running into their child's nursery at so much of a sniffle, then there wouldn't be an issue of babies not sleeping throughout the night for no apparent reason.

Then, my darling daughter was born. She is now eight months old, and I am still rocking her to sleep- every night. We have tried putting her down drowsy, wide awake, swaddled, unswaddled, in a sleep sack, out of the sleep sack, with the soother on, with the soother off, with the sound machine, without the sound machine, lights on, lights off, lamp on, lamp off, night light, no night light. You get the picture.

The end result? The kid screams, and screams, and screams. Her face turns purple, snot pours out of her nose, she vomits, we start the process all over again. It's awesome.

Her naps suck too. I count myself lucky in she will go down for 30 minutes. I cannot for the life of me figure it out. Who wouldn't want to sleep?!?! I mean the only thing she is missing is watching me fold laundry or rather move the pile of laundry in an effort to get some shut eye.

The only thing that I have found that works is to rock, in the dark, with a paci held firmly in her mouth until she is in such a deep sleep that I can pray and wriggle and tip toe out of the blackness without her feeling her body leave mine. The whole process takes about 45 minutes, but she won't have it any other way. And, secretly, neither will I. No self-soothing for my girl- in fact, at this rate, I might be rocking her to sleep up until she leaves for college. Better enjoy it while I can :)

Eight things a 4-year-old doesn't do...

Yes, the Kindergarten countdown has begun. Wyatt's last "first day" of pre-school was last week. He is a officially a 4K student, complete with math, language and an advanced version of 'circle time' --whatever that means. The bubble is a mere 360 days away from popping. How did we get here?!

Each day he comes home with a new song, story or lunch item envy request. I love it. He is full of enthusiasm and  thrilled to be back. I love that he is stimulated and exhausted- making bedtime much easier around our house :).

Since last week (and some conversations with his peers) He has made a list of things that four-year-old's don't do anymore:

1. Use a "baby" fork to eat. Only dinner forks will do. The bigger, the better.

2. Accept help to get dressed. Even if our underwear is twisted up in our waistband and sits higher than the Alps- DON'T touch 'em.

3. Use sippy cups. They are SO 2011. Who cares if the fruit punch stains our white heat-pressed shirt that we have only worn once?

4. Allow our moms to pick out our clothes. Only three-year old's (and other "babies") match on a consistent basis. Unless the sad spoon makes an appearance. Then we will comply.

5. Wear velcro New Balances. We want strings, dang it. Even if we can't tie them.

6. Behave during circle time. Because circle time is for babies. Unless the sad spoon appears. In that case, refer to #4.

7. Play with everyone. Apparently, playground cliques have begun. ALREADY? sigh.

8. Accept being the caboose. Being the leader is where its at. Period. (I wonder where he gets this?!)

Can't wait to see what FIVE brings...thank goodness 4-year-olds still nap. That would be a deal-breaker...

The Truth Behind The Lens

Mark and I recently purchased a new laptop. Obviously, this isn't all that exciting as far as large purchases go. Right up there with a new washer and dryer - definitely makes life easier and more efficient, but isn't exactly the same rush as you get when you buy a house or a car (and, a much smaller investment, too).

The best part of the purchase for me came the first afternoon I played around with our new "toy". The minute I clicked through the folder labeled "VIDEOS"  and realized the horribly cumbersome files from our camcorder that would never convert and play on our old computer were now dancing across the screen. Wyatt at a year, Wyatt at 14 months, 18 months, his 2nd birthday, last Christmas. Wyatt a few weeks ago in the bathtub singing at the top of of his lungs. This was the first time I had actually gotten to watch the videos since filming and as any mother- I was brimming over with emotion and thankfulness that I had taken the time to capture these tiny and precious moments.

What struck me (beyond the reality of how much he has changed in a few brief years and the sweet singsong sound of his voice) as our interaction. Sometimes Mark would be filming the two of us-- me,completely unaware that the camera was even on- and at times I would be filming Wyatt, conversing over the lens of the camcorder. What filled me with joy was seeing the unbelievable exchange of love between a mother and her child. So often I think of myself as an impatient mom, constantly waiting on Wyatt to listen or to do whatever he is doing a little faster. I think of myself as lacking in softness or sanity or calmness. I am, I know, a self-proclaimed neat-freak, a creature of habit- a little too uptight for a four-year-old at times.

What I watched told a completely different story. There was a tenderness that is completely indescribable. There was laughter, playfulness and a solid understanding that this moment was indeed all that mattered. That this moment will never happen again. Nothing mattered but my son- not work, nor bills, committee meetings or church activities. The only thing that mattered is the precious time that the Lord granted me with my child, His child.

 So... all is not lost. Perception is not reality. While I may view myself as all of the above- the truth is, through God's grace, I am better at this mom-stuff than I give myself credit for. Don't get me wrong, I am as inpatient as the day is long, I get hung up in details and it doesn't take much to stress me out. However, the truth behind the lens shows me that this is not all that Wyatt sees in me and hopefully will not be what is conjured up when he thinks back to his childhood 20 years from now- and thank God for that.

Whirlwind of a Weekend

Delaney Grace... how did you get so big?!

There have been so many highlights of this weekend (Wyatt shoving his old baby comb into the drive on the PC not being one of them) that I am not sure how best to sum it up.

I have a love-hate relationship with these kinds of weekends. I love them because there is nothing better than being among close friends and family and the excitement of rushing from one activity to the next. There is also nothing more exhausting. We had t-ball and birthday parties galore, church, after-church meetings- not to mention the spring chores including planting our garden and mulching flower beds.

It's Sunday afternoon and I think I might be more tired than I was on Friday.

I did, however get these... from a certain little boy (pre-computer destruction in case anyone was wondering).

He picked them simply because- in his words- he loves me :) I am still trying to put myself together after melting all over the floor. Oh how I love having a little boy. I have to catalog these moments because I know one day we will be fighting over keeping his room clean and he won't want to be seen with me. Until then, I have these precious and tender gestures that make him seem so grown up compared to just six months ago. I ask myself this a million times a day--

How did I get so blessed?

Which also begs the question- what in the heck did I used to do with all of my spare time??

It's quite comical to think about this. I was asked the other day what my hobbies were I almost laughed out loud. Does sprinting through Publix count? Washing jerseys? Planning birthday parties? One of these days I will get back to reading a novel a week, cooking fantastic meals and writing features... in this stage of life I am good with the t-ball games, sweaty hugs, home grown flowers and little kisses in between :)

Happy Sunday!

From Roses to Ralphing

Call me a cynic, but Valentine's Day looks a WHOLE lot different to me than it did 5 years ago. I think there is a very brief moment in time where a girl can really relish in this day and enjoy the entire Hallmark experience. Say, the first or second time you celebrate with your sweetheart. Or, perhaps, the first Valentine's Day you are officially a married gal. That's about it. Before that, you are angry at everyone that has a boyfriend, secretly thinking about how unfair it is that there is a bouquet of flowers with their name on it instead of your own. After that, you tell your husband to not waste your combined income on flowers that will die within a week. A pair of shoes that you pick out for yourself two weeks ahead of time is much more practical.

And, once kids come-- you can pretty much throw the romance out the window right along with those dead flowers. Instead, you will be spending three hours assembling treat bags for the pre-school party and figuring out how to make heart pancakes at the wee hour of 6 a.m. on a Tuesday-- just so your child, who happens to have a working mom, can also experience the holiday in the fullest capacity, just like all those kids whose moms don't have anywhere to be. Except for in the kitchen all morning. In their pajamas. Fashioning shapes out of Bisquick.

I am bitter. I know. My husband is awesome, and got me the sweetest card- presented it with the warmest cup of coffee, that I got to enjoy for all of five seconds before the dog started throwing up all over the floor and my naked three-year-old launched a sling shot at a favorite glass frame. I am sure you can figure out how the story ends.

I know I am not the only one in the Valentine's-Day-equals-stress boat. A girlfriend of mine frantically texted me at 9:08 p.m. on the eve of February 14, after working a 12-hour day. She had been volunteered to provide two dozen cupcakes for her daughters preschool party. Publix had no more cupcakes. She opted for the wine aisle instead of the baking aisle. After hitting the local Walmart, she headed home to drink the away her guilt.

We should not feel ashamed over the lack of Martha-Stewartesque running through our veins or feel any more pressure to produce 56 perfectly-produced embossed themed goodie bags for our pint-sized pre-schoolers any more than a 20-something should cry over the lack of a floral arrangement on her side of the dorm room.

Yes, Valentine's looks a whole lot different these days-- but you know what? I would trade it for the world. Throw up, sling shots, luke warm coffee and all :)

Happy Heart Day!!

Confessions of a Soccer Mom

About three weeks ago, we began a soccer program (along with six or seven of my friends, and their little ones) designed to teach athletic "basics" to three and four year olds. The core premise is one coach, four drill stations, twenty preschoolers and forty parents attempting some semblance of order. The first attempt was mass chaos and choruses of "I'm hungry" or "I'm tired" or as my child demonstrated, multiple trips to the potty or full fledged fist pounding and feet thrashing. I was seriously debating my sanity and thought process for enrolling a three-year-old in organized sports.

The second week was a hair better, and I must say he looks pretty darn cute in Umbro's and those adorable socks that run the length of his calves. Although his attention span has not dramatically improved from when we started, the wooden spoon has done wonders in keeping his motivation from crashing to a screeching halt :)

The big game is in a couple of weeks, I have a feeling it will look a lot more like a herd of goats than an actual game... but it should be interesting. Watch out Alabaster- Smart Start has invaded!

Thankful

We are back from our weekend at the coast, and although it was almost a complete washout, I am so thankful to have had a couple of days with my family away from all the distractions of life.

I am also thankful that I have such a sweet brother-in-law who allowed us to crash with him a midst a tropical storm and a very narrow Auburn win. And played with my three-year-old non-stop (did I mention that we barely left the house for fear of being blown away?!)

Thankful still for a husband who scooped my traumatized Wyatt into his arms two and three times throughout the night as lightning struck and thunder boomed. A husband who quieted him back to sleep, and then got up again with him at 7 a.m., allowing this very tired mom some much needed rest.

Last week was no bueno. At all. There have been so many Fridays where I was completely wiped, but I do believe this past week took the cake. My mental stability was hanging on by a thread and the only thing that kept me on this side of crazy town was the promise of sand between my toes. We made it before the rain, barely, and for that I am thankful. Thankful for a quiet day on the beach, for the birds that made Wyatt laugh, for the sand castles and the walks and an Amberjack lunch. Thankful still that I have one more day to be at home with my little guy, one more day to win the 'to-do' tug-of- war. One more day to put off the inevitable. The life of a working mom is just.so.dang.hard. But I am thankful for the job God has given me, and skills in which to complete that job. I am thankful for the paycheck and what He has provided.

As it says in Ecclesiastes, whatever He gives me, I will do with all my heart. And for what he has given me, I am thankful.

Sittin' on the dock of the bay...

It's hard to believe that the summer is half over! We had a wonderful Destin-filled holiday. These two munchkins couldn't have been happier (i.e. rambunctious as all get out :) to spend four uninterrupted days on the coast with one of their favorite uncles.

It may be the last of the traveling we do for a while (other than the three of us going to Atlanta). It is beyond exhausting to protect, entertain and discipline an almost three-year-old when he is around his 10-month-old cousin for an extended period of time. I probably sound like the Wicked Witch of the West after asking 9,458 times for him to give a toy back, or to stop whining or to quit throwing sand.

Of course it was well worth the trouble to see the look in their eyes as the fireworks started. Sitting on that dock in a rare moment of peace, my sister -in -law and I commented that though it was a lot of work to get them down there and keep them from killing each other, it was, in deed, worth it. I still do not understand how those of you with two or more do it! I can already tell that Wyatt's 3rd year is going to be quite the challenge.

Along increasing independence, Wyatt's rebellious side is ramping up. I feel I am having to keep a check on my frustration level more often than not, and also come up with creative ways to get him to do what he needs to do when he needs to do it- not easy, let me tell ya. I only wish babies came with lifelong instruction manuals :)

We returned home just in time to hit the party planning in full force. Everything is starting to come together, and we can't wait to celebrate the big #3!

This little pirate is ready... let's just hope I am ;)

This Little Monkey

Has eyes that could melt a glacier and a smile that goes on for miles. My little monkey- with a perfect little nose and a perfect knack for finding trouble. He spins me in circles every day and makes me wonder what my life was like only three short years ago.

I am a little less patient and a little more tired. I am a lot more grateful and a lot more worried. My life changed forever the moment his began. My heart is on my sleeve and I live for the kisses and the cuddles and the imaginary boo boos that only I can fix.

The days seem to last forever, yet the years fly by. I try to let every detail of every moment marinate- until I am absolutely sure I will remember it forever. Even still, the ache is there. I know these minutes are fleeting, and one day I will look back and wonder where the time went. Already it has been three years and I wonder if I have captured enough. Have I let time slip through my fingers concerned with non-important things? Have I stayed in the moment, or wandered in my own thoughts- forgetting what is right in front of me?

He is my heart and soul- absolute sweetness and curiosity and all that is right with the world. He makes my life bounce with excitement and his laughter is music to my ears. This precious boy, my Wyatt. There has never been one like you, and there will never be another. You have brought me such unspeakable joy and for you I am eternally grateful!

This crazy thing called life...

At 5:30 yesterday afternoon when I pulled into the driveway only to find my back tire almost completely deflated, I was not prepared to spend the better part of the evening in the auto section of Walmart. As a young college student, my dad always took care of these inconviences for me. As a newlywed, my husband handled the flat tires, the oil changes and even bailed me out when I ran out of gas.

Now, as a young professional, an exhausted mother of one and, at times, a single parent- these type of things land themselves smack on my shoulders. Regardless of how tired I feel, how overwhelmed I am or how much I want to travel back to my early twenties- it simply isn't an option. Someone must pick up the two year old from preschool, someone needs to feed the dog and give baths and fix dinner- which doesn't leave a whole lot of leeway for things like a nail in the tire.

So, as I sat waiting on my name to be called (after wandering the aisles in 2-inch heels for 45 minutes) , I was simultaneously attempting to both stay awake, and figure out how I could propel myself through the rest of the evening. Knowing full well that Wyatt would be about as reved up as a tasmanian devil when I returned, and that Mark had a board meeting at the church to rush off to-collapsing into bed was not an option.

I managed to summon enough energy to get through the evening- flat tires, flying chicken, frantic tantrums and all. It did serve as a reminder that we are stronger than we think. Even when little things seem overwhelming, it is human nature to want to crawl under the covers. Yet, if we choose to put one foot in front of the other and to continue moving forward- God will do the rest. I need to remind myself of this on a daily basis. All too often I worry about things that I cannot control, I stress about the future and fret over details- skimming over the big picture.

I am no longer a child protected from the world, and on most days, the responsibility of it all is more than I ever imagined back in my college days. Life, in fact, is nothing like I imagined it- but I think that was God's plan all along. He never gives us more than we can handle, but just enough to make sure we depend on Him. The outcome is far greater than our wildest dreams, isn't it?

And then there was more

As you know, a week ago we were preparing for Wyatt to have outpatient surgery- both emotionally and logistically. I had gotten medical leave approved at work to be out for two weeks of recovery, I had grilled our pediatrician and ENT ruthlessly about post-op expectations and Mark had taken Tuesday off so that he could be there for the procedure.

All that was left was the phone call from the surgery center telling me what we needed to be there. On Monday, Wyatt woke up with a low-grade fever complaining that he didn't feel good. The anesthesiologist beat me to the punch and called before I could reach for the phone. They had gotten both the ENT's and the pediatrician's office notes, and operating on a two-year old with a heart murmur had apparently raised some red flags. The tests that were ran were not conclusive enough for him to feel comfortable putting a toddler under, nor did they indicate that he did not have more serious issues. At that, the surgery was post poned until we saw a Pediatric Cardiologist.

I tried not to get rattled as I made phone calls, retrieved referrals and set the appointment. I would be lying if I didn't said that Wednesday afternoon loomed over my head for the first half of the week. We had absolutely breezed through Wyatt's first three years of life- I had counted myself lucky on many occasions that to-date we had only been to the E.R. once- but what if the entire time, something was wrong? What if my child did have a condition that we were unaware of? As I fretted, Mark consoled. My friends prayed, called, texted and encouraged me more than they will ever know.

I honestly couldn't focus on much of anything last week. Wednesday afternoon rolled around, and we got the good news I had been hoping for. His murmur is in fact innocent, which means there is a sound, but no physical abnormality with the heart. We couldn't have gotten a better report. For the first time in three days, I could breathe.

Six appointments and twelve tests later, Wyatt's tonsillectomy is scheduled for June 14th, and I couldn't be more relieved!

Updates

There have been two events that have absolutely consumed my heart and soul this week.

The recent tornado outbreak is still so very real and painful- one week has passed, and yet, in that small amount of time, so much has changed. Neighbors are helping neighbors, rivals are helping rivals- beyond anything else-- we are in this thing together. Some are more impacted than others, but all of us have been affected in some way or another. I am ready for Saturday, if for nothing else, to provide healing to my soul. I don't care if I am hauling trees, fishing through rubble, serving food or providing any amount of comfort-- I need to do something.

I have become fixated on You Tube-- watching the tornados whip through the state over and over and over again. I scour blogs, facebook and online articles related to the storms and the aftermath. I know that on Saturday, I will be way more blessed than any of the people and families we serve. I am a firm beliver that giving back, regardless of the method, is the best medicine for survivors guilt or the feeling of utter helplessness.

The other unexpected event that has affected our family is Wyatt's impending tonsilectomy on Tuesday. Whether or not a medical procedure is inpatient or outpatient, minor or major, planned or unplanned is completely irrelevent to this momma. I am a nervous wreck thinking about my baby going under anesthesia, have needles poked into his arm, and being scared because he doesn't know what's going on. I feel a MILLION times better that my co-workers will be in the OR with him and that we are having the surgery done in such an exceptional facility. It is, however, nervewracking nonetheless.

We did find out this week that Wyatt has a minor heart murmur that has gone undetected until now- probably because the doctors can hear it better when he is sick. I felt kind of silly after tests were ran and everything looked okay, because I burst into tears in the doctors office and began thinking of everything and anything that could lay ahead for us, and for him. I think it comes with working with and around sick children- you just always expect the worst- and it adds another element of worry to Tuesday-- even with the surgeon's assurance that everything will be fine- I am trusting in the Lord to hold my baby even when I can't, and I know that Wyatt will be taken care of.

Thanks in advance for all your prayers in the upcoming week!

Zoo Day, Potty Troubles and Mom Question

On Saturday, we joined Stephanie, Delaney and some of my best friends and their kiddos for a play date at the zoo. There is a new African exhibit, and Wyatt was thrilled to see the elephants and giraffes. His favorite part of the entire day was the splash pad. I failed to bring a bathing suit, but had an extra pair of shorts so I gave in and let him play in the water. He was fit to be tied when I dragged him out and was a bit mismatched the rest of the day, but it was worth it :)

When we got to the public play area, Wyatt told me that he had to go potty. No problem- we were about two feet from the bathroom. Before I could even reach down and pick him up, he had pulled his elastic waist banded shorts to the ground and was peeing in full view of everyone. I was BEYOND mortified. All I could do was scream for him to stop, but once he started, there was no stopping, All the moms were incredibly gracious and my friends thought it was hysterical (I will admit- had it not been my child peeing in a public park, I would have thought it was funny too :) I guess thats life with a boy- I did tell Mark that there would be no more pit stops in the backyard until he was a little older, and a little less confused ;)

On another note, Wyatt's Excema continues to be a problem- particularly when it begins to warm up and when his skin is exposed to chlorine. I know if this is the worst problem we have to deal with, then I really have nothing to complain about- BUT aside from slathering him in steroid cream, I was just wondering if any of you had any advice? We spend the majority of our summer at the pool, and I would like to be able to enjoy it without having to worry about Wyatt's skin cracking open at the end of the day. Ya'll, it was so bad last night that Wyatt was screaming and crying while Mark held him down and I covered him from head to toe with medicated cream. It just kills me that I can't find a better way to keep a handle on it-- please let me know if you know of anything that might help!

These are the days

Wyatt and his girlfriend Ava :) This is the perfect rehearsal dinner pic!!

Digging for treasure

What a special weekend for so many reasons. I look forward to Saturday mornings when Wyatt prances into our room and announces his presence with the sweetest "Good Morning!" I have ever heard. Lately he has crawled into bed with us, Mickey and all. I can't tell you how precious those moments are- the three of us snuggling and tickling and laughing. Even though it's 6 a.m. and I am exhausted from the week- I wouldn't trade it for all the world.

My parents came in town on Saturday, and Mom and I went furniture shopping for Wyatt's big boy room - I found exactly what I wanted for a great deal... so, furniture is on it's way, custom bedding is being made by Mark's mom, and I CAN'T wait to start decorating :) I can't believe my baby is out of the crib - it just amazes me that time is going so fast!

After a yummy dinner of smoked Crappie (freshly caught by Mark) we took Wyatt for a walk. Halfway down our street, he demanded that I stop the wagon. I thought maybe he had seen a bug or animal that called for closer examination. Instead, he hauled himself over the side of the wagon and pulled a bunch of wild flowers out of the ground. When he handed them to me telling me they were 'for mommy' I almost melted right on the pavement. My sweet baby boy had picked his first flowers and wanted me to have them. It was the smallest of gesture, but it made my heart feel as if it would burst with joy. A moment I will never ever forget.

Another special moment was the dedication of the brand new Contemporary building at our church. Eight months ago, this building was an empty Winn Dixie. Today, it is one of the most beautiful church facilities I have ever seen. It was incredible to worship in the space that only a few months ago was just a drawing on a piece of paper. Words cannot describe the overwhelming feeling that God is going to do some amazing things this space.

We rounded out the weekend with a Princess and Pirate party to celebrate sweet Maybrie's 3rd Birthday. It was a ton of fun, and made us excited for our own Pirate party only FOUR short months away! Can you believe it?!

The Holidays- Post Mortem

Happy New Year!! HELLO 2011...

Well we survived. I can't say I was sad to see the Christmas tree come down and the decorations dragged back into the attic- the house seems much, much bigger and the exhaustion and overwhelming "to-dos" are over.

Not to say we didn't have a magical Christmas, in fact- it was just that but I am seriously tired. It may have something to do with our late night on New Years, but hey- we had fun :)

Now we are in full swing preparations for our next big adventure... DISNEY!!! I am incredibly thrilled that we have moved our trip up to March (thanks to our fantastic in-laws) I have become somewhat of a Disney guru overnight... researching restaurants and interviewing friends- but it has been a lot of fun. I am like the proverbial kid in a candy store... bouncing off of walls and discussing Mickey and Goofy with my two-year-old (who doesn't even understand the awesomeness of whats to come :) Anyways, I literally can't wait.

And the adventure after that? Well, my husband seems to think it is THAT time. I am just not sure I am there yet... I can't explain it except to say I just don't have the urge to have another child. Before you go screaming for the hills, or cry yourself to sleep at night, I am not saying that it won't ever happen...I am, however, waiting for that baby bug to bite. And it hasn't. Apparently, it has sunk its teeth into my husband-- but I am a-okay with the perfectly healthy, smart-as-a-whip, wear-you-out-so-much-your-teeth-hurt one I've got.

Our life seems complete. End of story. Now, for the question of the year to all those moms who have two or are expecting two-- did the urge suddenly hit? Did your child turn a certain age and you forced yourself to be okay with another? Did you finally hit some burst of energy, or just momentary insanity?? I really do want to know. Mark thinks that I just need to dive right in and then once the bundle arrives, it will be perfect. But oh, dear Lord- I almost didn't survive the first- how on Earth will I survive a second?

The Days I love being a Momma

Some sacrifices are harder to make than others in the world of Motherhood. Like the day (ahem, last week) when I gave up a perfectly good Ga/Au ticket because a certain brown haired brown eyed boy needed his Mommy... and trading a seat in Jordon (pronounced JER-DEN :) Haire Stadium for a seat on my couch was not exactly the easiest thing to do- BUT, alas, I got over it and ended having a good time sharing shakers and cheese dip with my boys.

Today was none such sacrafice. Today I decided to give up the grocery store, the dry cleaners and the bank for some good ole PJ time with Wyatt.

We played and ran and ate and tickled. We laughed and disciplined and whined a little. We fought our nap and fussed and threw everything out of our crib... and in the end- this self-soothing, schedule queen caved and rocked her little man to sleep in the first time in over a year... and loved every.single.second :)

Cheers to lazy Saturday mornings with the love of my life!

Let's Be Honest

I am a huge fan of Kelly's Korner, as I know so many of you are as well. Most of her posts seem like they are exactly directed at me and exactly what I needed to hear. Ya'll know that all too often I beat myself up for not having it together- at all. I feel so crazy and disorganized most of the time, my house is a disaster zone and my two year old is playing in dog food, or climbing on the couch or pouring water all over the floor.

I haven't had time to exercise in three months (besides the Zumba class Heidi and I dragged ourselves to) my gray roots are showing because I literally haven't been able to carve two hours out to get my hair done and my "meal plan" this week has consisted of frozen pizza and chicken nuggets.

Most evenings I am counting down the minutes to bed time so that I can crawl into my bed and attempt to read a page or two of my book that is currently collecting dust on my nightstand. I am constantly tired... and I live for working lunches that involve an adult conversation. Does that make me a bad mom? I hope not... I LOVE and adore my child more than life itself, and I am SO very very grateful for this life I have been given. It is just a breath of fresh air to me to know that I am not the only mom and wife out there that doesn't have all the answers, and isn't Mrs. Cleaver.

Being a working mom and wife is HARD. I can't imagine pulling it off with more than one child... even with my one I feel like I am failing most of the time. I thank my ALmighty God for giving me the strength to not just survive the day, but to enjoy it. And for surrounding me with wonderful women who are going through the same things in life- and who encourage me more than they will ever know. Even if our laundry piles are taller than Mt. Everest and the dust on our furniture is an inch thick- we are in it together, and with God's grace and mercy- our children will grow up to be strong, patient, responsible and kind- gray roots and all :)

Just a few things... and lots of pictures :)

Mollie, Our Pastor's sweet wife, at her baby shower

Happy 30th Birthday Uncle Joey!

Precious Little Delaney, all dressed up for Daddy's surprise party :)

Yard Sale-ing it up

A hot Saturday Morning in Chilton County

This past weekend was one that we don't have very often. I literally had to check my blackberry every hour to make sure I wasn't missing anything on my schedule- starting with Thursday evening. Between my best friend and her little boy coming in town to visit, a yard sale, my BIL's surprise 30th birthday party, helping host a baby shower for our pastor and his family and hosting bible study... I was a tad stressed. Everything went great and we had a BLAST with all of our activities. Mark and I were thrilled to get our garage cleaned out and to make $400 to boot... it was definitely worth the heat and all the work- next year I think we will wait until October though :)

Wyatt and David played and played... you would have thought they had known each other all their lives ... and almost made me start thinking about giving Wyatt a more permanent playmate ;)

I wanted to take a moment and comment on one of Kelly's posts from last week. If you don't read Kelly's Korner, I highly recommend it. I love that she is a real.live.mom, meaning she has no problem admitting the struggles she faces as a mom, a christian and a wife.

Lately, I have been having huge pity party with myself- Wyatt has been absolutely wearing me out... if we are not right smack dab in the middle of the terrible two's I am not sure I really want to know how bad it could possibly get. I know it is just a phase, but I have had to catch myself a couple of times before I completely lost my cool. I will admit it- my two-year old is getting the best of me.

Then, last week, I came across this post .

It made me realize that although I will continue to have these trying days in the toddler realm... it is not what I remember when I look back. I will remember the laughter and the love that fills our home, the sleepy snuggles at night and the way Wyatt exclaims "I love YOU more, Mommy!" I know I won't think about the constant temper tantrums, the endless piles of toys I pick up or the amount of times I wipe his little hiney :) When I look at it that way, I could almost cry thinking about how blessed I am. God must love me sooo much to entrust me with this huge responsibility- I am incredibly grateful to be a mom to this little boy!

Difficult Days

UPDATE: I am so glad I am not the only one who gets exhausted with with the terrible twos. Thanks for all the sweets comments and e-mails :) Today is a much better day, and my sweet baby boy has returned ... for now -ha!


Here I am in the middle of total chaos otherwise known as the Olis Saturday morning. The bed is not made, the breakfast dishes are still in the sink, my floor is is a sea of plastic- Little People and Mega Blocks are scattered from baseboard to baseboard. It's after ten, and I am still in my pajamas. Gone are the Saturdays of sleeping in, quiet cups of coffee and Lifetime movie marathons- they have been replaced with tantrums and timeouts, diaper changes and juice refills, fruit loop encrusted highchairs and the low pitter patter of my 19-month old shadow.

Most weekends I live for these mornings- the high energy, the endless Sponge Bob reruns, the putting off of housework until naptime. This morning, I would give anything for some peace and quiet. Maybe that makes me a bad mom- I don't know. I have been trying to change out the laundry for over 30 minutes. I became exasperated when I couldn't even load the dishwasher without my little one breaking into full-out wailing and thrashing mode. I am typing amidst constant tugging and whining.

This motherhood thing is not for the faint of heart. I feel like a total loser when I watch those stupid shows where the mom can handle six newborns at one time- changing , feeding, bathing, traveling- all with such ease. I have ONE. One toddler who is, right at this very moment- getting the best of me.

I could tell something was wrong this morning when all I wanted to do was pull the pillow over my head and roll over instead of starting my day. I haven't felt that way in... wow, 16 months. I knew that I hadn't been feeling like myself lately, and the word "funk" has been used to describe my frame of mind- more than once. I know eventually I will snap out of it- I just hope it's sooner rather than later.

I sometimes wonder if things would have been easier if we had planned our pregnancy- if we had waited a few years, if I had been more prepared for the whole "mom" thing. I wouldn't change it for the world, and I love my little man more than life itself- but some days... it's harder than I ever imagined it could be. My life is forever changed... and I have never been one to adjust easily.

Survival Mode

One....More...Day. I keep repeating this in my head, over and over and over. I have actually been telling myself this since Monday, hoping it would make this week seem a little less long.

It hasn't helped. Mark left Sunday for his annual 'Shot Show' in Vegas. Imagine a whole lot of testosterone and a whole lot of guns -multiply that by the tenth power. Exactly. No where I would want to be.

I wish I could say that Wyatt and I sailed through this week. That I cooked amazingly healthy and tasty meals, that my child never ran out of clean clothes and that the word 'stressed' never entered my vocabulary. But- this would simply not be true.

In actuality, we split a can of Beefaroni for dinner- more than once. My kitchen resembles Nagasaki during the post-atomic bomb era, and if it hadn't been for my wonderfully thoughtful MIL, Wyatt's outfit would have come out of the hamper this morning (luckily, when picking up my child yesterday, Liz offered to wash his clothes for me- bless her!)

I forgot to close the garage door, set the alarm and make the coffee the night before- as these are typically deemed 'daddy duties'. Sadie is lucky she got fed, and I have been late to work every day.

The icing on the cake came last night in the form of a dying battery in the smoke detector. Picture me at 2 a.m. on a 12-foot ladder receiving instructions from my husband 2,000 miles away on how to disengage the stupid thing.

I am hanging on by a thread, folks. And tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.