Seriously, if I end up with grey hair, I'm going to blame it on Liam. Last night he was up three times from 11 pm to 2 am. Finally at 2 we decided to give him some ibuprofen in case his teeth were bothering him. Then at 2:30 when he started crying again, Bill and I decided to let him cry for a half hour and see if he would fall asleep. Not even two minutes later we heard a thud. We both flew out of bed and into his room. He was standing on the floor crying. Somehow he hurled himself out of his crib, in his sleepsack (like a sleeping bag with armholes), and landed on the floor. How in the world did he manage to do that?! He's 16 months old, for goodness sake! I'm pretty sure Rori was pretty close to three before she climbed out of her crib. Honestly this kid is something else. He's had at least two blackeyes and stitches on his upper lip and countless bruises. He just amazes me all the time. I think his fearlessness is a good thing, but I just pray that God keeps him safe! Frankly I wish that I could be more like him, and maybe God is teaching me something through Liam. I have always been a 'fraidy cat and have probably missed out on a lot of opportunities by playing it safe. I am so thankful that God put this crazy, ridiculous, funny, loveable ball of energy in my life!

Quick post/announcement

I am pleased to announce that my big sister, Jenna, is expecting her second baby! She's due at the beginning of May! Frankly, I'm very happy and a bit relieved. My ovaries have been crying out to me for usage, which was making my mom's eye twitch (not in a good way) at the thought of watching 3 kids on the day I work. So holding her new baby should assuage the ovaries for a while (or at the very least, seeing her sleep deprived state during the summer will do it)! Congratulations Big Sister!

Oops, I did it again!

You'd think I would have learned my lesson earlier this week, but no. Bill and I were doing things around the house and Liam was sleeping. Rori is usually pretty good at being unsupervised for a little bit. Today, however, she came down the stairs in her high heel princess shoes with a huge grin on her face. You could tell that she felt beautiful and she was hoping that we thought so too.

When I saw her, I immediately worried that she had used my $100 bottle of skin cream that makes me glow the way that I do. Ok, who am I kidding, I thought she used my free bottle of Dove moisturizer that my brother-in-law got from work. But let's pretend that I have a $100 bottle of cream. Anyway, I told her how beautiful she looked and asked her what she had put on her face. She looked at me and said, "butt paste." I just smiled and continued to tell her how pretty she was, but inside I was thinking, "she's pretty smart. I think that models use Preparation H cream to get rid of undereye circles!" Maybe diaper rash cream has the same effect! But I probably won't be trying it tonight. Oh, and don't worry, I'll teach her about how to keep the lipstick from getting on her teeth--other than that she did a great job :)

But, I'm not ready for a dog!

We used to have the most wonderful dog in the world (that's her at the top, Sarge is at the bottom)--and I'm not just biased. Everyone always complimented Leia. One time we had to board her while we went on vacation because my whole family went and we didn't have anyone to watch her. When we went to pick her up, they said that everyone loved her and had even left a note reminding them to tell us how great she was. They didn't tell every dog owner that (I know that for a fact). My mom called her, "the most human dog she'd ever met." Unfortunately she died suddenly when she was only five years old. We were absolutely devastated. That was two years ago. Every once in a while we talk about getting another dog--we've even tried two. That's how my parent's ended up with Sarge, and the other dog we would have kept except she had separation anxiety and I nicknamed her "Pissy Patsy." She went back to her foster home.

Anyway, Bill had mentioned getting a dog and I knew we would be watching Sarge while my parents were in Florida so I suggested seeing how that went. Normally Sarge rolls in poop at least once during his stay or does something to make me glad to not have a dog. Sadly this time he was a perfect gentleman. And the kids just loved having him here. Which sent Bill on the hunt for a dog. I found out today that he went so far as to fill out an application for one and he's currently on the phone with foster of her. I am not a happy camper. I'm not sure that I'm ready to deal with the responsibility of a dog again, but I want Bill to be happy. Is this going to be part of my "love dare"? ARG! Why did I make that vow? Is it to late to rescind?

This is what I get for "me" time

We've had a rough couple of days and nights, Rori has been sick throwing up and has an ear infection. I am really tired and selfishly in need of some "me" time. So, I decided to quickly check my email and let the kids play unsupervised for a minute. This is what I went upstairs to find

Liam had lip gloss all over his head, and his pants were stuffed with play dough. And, I'm pretty sure this chair had a seat on it when I went downstairs.

I asked Rori what happened and this is how she looked

Hmmm....guilty or innocent?

I'm Caleb...minus the porn!

How's that for a title? Bill and I went to see Fireproof tonight and I'm worried that I am more like Caleb (Kirk Cameron's character) than I would like. I find myself being selfish and not working to do things for Bill. I have always thought that Bill and I have had a very healthy marriage, but I have to give most of the credit for that to Bill. I have decided to make a conscious decision to think of what I can do for Bill, before I start grumbling about the things that I want him to do for me.

Today was "Sweetest Day." I have never thought much about "Hallmark holidays" but you know what, everytime that Bill thinks of them, I never think, "that's lame--it's a Hallmark holiday." No, I think, "wow, that was really sweet." Bill bought me and Rori flowers and a DVD that I've been wanting, and I loved it. You know what I got him? Zilch. And sadly, I know that gifts are Bill's love language. He loves to give and receive gifts, and I know it, and yet, I blame my lack of thoughtfulness on the fact that I'm tired, or busy, or it's too hard to take the kids to the store. Yet, Bill went to three stores to get my DVD.

I am so thankful to have such a wonderful man for my husband, and I am going to start working on my own version of the "Love Dare." (If you haven't seen the movie--go see it and you'll know what I'm talking about). I'll keep you posted--not for bragging rights, but so that I have some kind of accountability. Our marriage is very far from danger--RIGHT NOW--but I know that things can creep in and eat away at a marriage, and a lazy attitude can be one of them and I am not about to let that happen.

Beverly Ann

On this National Day of Rememberance for pregnancy and infant loss, I wanted to tell you about someone near and dear to me that lost a baby girl. Her story is similar to mine. She spotted throughout her pregnancy. Then some time after 5 or 6 months her spotting got worse and she had to go to the hospital. She ended up going into labor. Her doctor offered something for the pain, but said it may harm the baby, and if that happens you will blame yourself. So she went through the pain of delivery--knowing that the baby likely wouldn't survive due to the extreme prematurity. She delivered her beautiful baby girl who was alive. The baby lived for a day and a half. Yet, she never got to hold her precious baby. You see, it was 1952, times were different, and that woman is my Grandma Rose. After she delivered, Grandma said, she propped herself up so she could see her baby and she was very pretty. However, they didn't let her hold her. My grandma said that there is not a day that goes by that she doesn't think of her Beverly Ann and wonder what she would be like, where she'd be, and how many children she'd have. I know that while my grandma's arms have been aching to hold her baby girl for 56 years, Beverly Ann has been resting in the arms of Jesus, along with Faith, and all the other babies that spent too little time here on earth.
Grandma, while this is a journey that I never wanted to take, I am honored to travel it with you.

Beverly Ann
June 21, 1952-June 23, 1952

Aging

I've noticed a few things lately. I'm getting older. For example, this morning I debated between style and comfort when picking out my shoes for work. Much to my relief, I did choose style, but five years ago there wouldn't have even been a debate. I'm pretty sure five years from now I'll be showing up in my Birkenstocks--or as Clinton and Stacey call them "Birkenstops".

Last weekend I realized that my childhood home wasn't "home" anymore. Rori and I had a girl's day out up where my parents live. My parents were in Florida, but I had to go up there for a haircut, and brought Rori with me because I knew she'd love to go to the farm up there. After we were done at the farm, I knew we had an hour drive back home and frankly I wasn't interested in using the purple port-a-potty in 80 degree weather. I called my peeps and asked if we could use their house since it was a short distance away, and use their bathroom.

When I let us in, it was really weird because my parents weren't home. It truly felt like I was a guest in their home. I haven't been in their house without them there since I've been married. It was really strange and made me sad. I had lived in that house for 23 years and always thought it would be "home." I guess it's a good thing that my home with Bill and the kids is my new "home" but it really made me nostalgic and feel "grown-up."

On another note, today is the National Day of Rememberance for pregnancy and infant loss. Please say a prayer for those who've lost a child at any age--whether it be at 8 weeks of pregnancy or had to bury an adult child.

New Look

Don't you just love my new blog design?! If any of you that I've been telling to start blogs, ever do, I highly recommend Danielle! She did a great job--above and beyond what I had hoped for! She was totally patient while I picked a design and then she really listened to the things that I liked. She even retouched the photo of Faith's footprints so they look much better. She's very affordable and frequently has sales or donates portions to charity. She's a great designer--can't recommend her enough! Having a beautfiful blog is great motivtion to keeping up with it :) Do it! You know who you are ;)

911, What's your emergency?

For the 23 years that I lived at my parents house, I never called 911, nor did anyone else in my family--to the best of my knowledge, anyway. Well, in the last year and a half, 911 has been called at my house 4 times!

The first time I called 911 was when I witnessed "the ucky man" (aka the creepy cat man that lives a few doors down) yelling and screaming and threatening the lady that lives behind me. I wasn't about to go out there because Liam was a small baby at that point (small meaning age--as he's never been small in size ;) ). So, I decided the best thing to do would be to call 911. They didn't end up coming out because the situation diffused itself by the time I was done talking to the operator.

The second time I called 911 was a time when Rori woke up and she was fairly lethargic. She just didn't seem like herself. All she wanted to do was lay on the couch. Then she started to shake a bit and gagged and some foamy phlegmish stuff came out of her mouth. It was very scary to me because our precious dog, Leia had died from some kind of seizure and that topped with my "awareness of the fragility of life" (see previous post) I freaked out. So, I called 911, and this time they came out. They came with a fire truck and ambulance. I had told the operator that I thought she was fine, but they wanted to check her out anyway. While I was waiting for them, I called Bill and my mom. Bill immediately told me he was coming home. The paramedics came and were super nice. They checked her out for about 15 minutes and she was indeed okay. So, we all went on the couch and snuggled. Then I saw Bill racing up the driveway and flying through the house. And I thought to myself, "oops, I forgot to call him and tell him everything was ok." Yeah, I was a little stressed, and thought somehow he knew. I still feel badly about that. Sorry, babe.

The third time 911 was called, Rori had gotten her leg stuck in the baby gate. My mom was watching the kids and Rori had somehow slipped and gotten her leg stuck in the gate, which was metal. She was getting hysterical, which made Liam hysterical. My mom couldn't get her leg out and thought it might be bleeding so she called 911. She got her leg out before they came, but again, they were very nice and checked her out.

The fourth time was yesterday. Rori and I were out at the farm we had gone to the previous weekend and Bill was home not feeling well. His mom was watching Liam. She brought him back for his nap and by then Bill was feeling better. After Liam's nap, Bill and Liam were playing. At some point, a police officer showed up at the door. He asked if someone had called 911. Bill said, "no." The officer asked if someone had been playing with the phone--as Bill was holding Liam. Bill realized that Liam had been playing with the phone and must have dialed 911! The officer said they thought that was the case--Liam must have been babbling to the operator, but they had to check it out anyway. Although, frankly, Bill said that Liam hadn't played with the phone for like 15 minutes so it took them a long time to come check it out. What if Liam had been one of those kids that knew to call 911 in emergency, but wasn't able to talk yet? Fortunately everything was alright :)

So, I'm starting to think we are developing a relationship with the 911 people. I wonder if we should add them to our Christmas list?

Awareness

First--I'm sorry that I've been lacksadaisical about my posts lately. I'm actually working on getting my blog redesigned, so I've been thinking about that lately and forgetting to post :) Anyway, lately I've been wondering how losing Faith has changed my personality. One of the biggest things I've noticed is that I am now completely aware of how fragile life is. I think that this can be a good thing, but it can also be a bad thing.

I remember the night Bill and I came home from the hospital after losing Faith. Jenna, Ryan, mom, and dad were at our house waiting for us. Everyone, except my dad was planning on spending the night. I don't remember why my dad was planning on going home, but he needed to. The weather was terrible and snowy. As he was getting ready to go, something inside me just freaked out. I was terribly aware of our mortality and realized my dad could get into and accident and DIE. I started to sob and begged him to stay (which he did). And I think that was the beginning of my awareness that bad things can and do happen.

Most of my life I went through hearing about bad things happening--but they always happened to other people. When we told my mother-in-law that we were pregnant and that my parents had bought us a bib and rubber ducky, she said, "Well, I'm not going to buy anything right now, in case something happens." I brushed off her remarks, because I thought, "nothing's going to happen--that stuff doesn't happen to us." Obviously I was wrong.

I think it's a good thing that I am aware of the fragility of life now, because I cherish moments so much more. I make a conscious effort to hold on and remember each good moment as it comes. But this awareness also comes at a price. I know that life can be taken in a second, so my worry is probably worse than it would have been before Faith. For example, yesterday Liam took a two hour nap--which has been highly unusual lately. I had to go check on him after an hour and a half because, even though he is well beyond the age of SIDS, I have heard of SIDS-like things that happen to toddlers. The percentage is teeny tiny, but now I know that I can be in the teeny tiny percentages. It's a scary thing, knowing that you can be in the teeny percentage, where unusual tragedy's can occur. I've realized, somebody has to be the person to make up the percentage, and there's no reason that it won't be me. I just have to trust that God's plan for my life is His good and perfect one. I know that I need to not worry--because the Bible comes right out and says, "And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?" Easy to say--but not easy to put into practice!

Anyway, on a totally other subject, I wanted to say that I used to hate dinosaurs. I made a big stink out of how much I dislike them and how I was going to have to learn to like them since I was going to have a boy. Well, you know something kind of funny? These are my favorite pajamas of Liam's :)

Bravery

I was told, once, that since I was a worrier, my kids were going to be worriers. Well, I think I have done a good job, so far, of hiding my levels of worry from my kids. They are pretty brave. This weekend we went to a farm by my parents house where they have fun activities for kids. Rori went down this slide with no trepidation whatsoever.

She also rode a pony

Her brother climbed the giant hay stack

So, I'm pretty sure they are much braver than their mother--who worries about everything and didn't ride a roller coaster until she was 16 :)

Noah was also there and he had a ton of fun playing in the sandbox that was filled with corn. He really likes corn--to play in and eat (he had not been feeling well, but did great at the farm and ate corn on the cob like he'd never seen it before) And a big thank you to Grandpa for buying us donuts!

Happy Birthday Bill

Today is my dear hubby's birthday and I want to honor him with 10 reasons why I love him.

1. He loves his birthday as much as any five year old child :)



2. He helps pick up the toys every night.



3. He watches "the hills" with me and rubs my feet during it! He sends me spoiler information that he finds on any of the shows that I watch.



4. I love the fact that he would rather spend time with his family than do anything else in the world.



5. I love that he lets me sleep in and gets up with the kids.



6. He supports me in anything that I want to do. He never tells me no, or says I can't do something.



7. He lets me call him 10 times a day and ask when he's coming home. When he gets home, he immediately gets involved with helping me with the kids--sometimes even completely taking them so I have time to myself.



8. He takes out the garbage every Thursday night--I rarely help.



9. He told me I wasn't fat when I gained 60 lbs during my pregnancies.



10. He is an even better father than I had expected--and I expected a lot. He doesn't shy away from changing diapers, he lets me go out with friends and puts the kids to bed by himself, he grocery shops, cleans, and cooks.

I truly believe that I got the better deal when Bill and I got married. So, happy birthday, my love!