Yay!

Guys! 

Look what I got my hair to do!!

Also, here's a quick shot of my sick baby last night: 

She hasn't fallen asleep on us in months! Too bad it takes a fever to make that happen. 

Stay tune for the details on Polar Express Day. No pictures, but it was fun!

Fashionista

I busted out some of the 3T clothes so that I could pack up the 2T stuff for Zav.

I wanted to try them on JB to make sure they fit. He chose his own outfit and was stoked about it: 

He was pretty proud of his selection. He even dancedaround the house: 

http://youtu.be/XaZpTFhvVrU

I didn't get a clear shot, but he is also wearing a necklace that he made with a piece of string, a blue bead, a white bead, and a silver dog. Bling bling!

Two and a half

My son is two and a half.

Last Sunday, I decided to take the kids to church out in Holland where Eric runs sounds every Sunday. Unfortunately, I didn't plan very well and, upon arriving 5 minutes early for the 10:00 service, realized that the service actually starts at 11:00. 

AJ had just fallen asleep in the car seat, so I drove to the beach, parked next to the swings, and bundled up John for a good time. It was freezing, but he loved watching the water and had a blast swinging. 

While he was swinging, a tourist from India came over and after chatting a bit asked if he could take some pictures. He sent them to me in an email later. 

So folks, here are (what I am going to pass as) my son's two-and-a-half-year pictures: 

9:15 AM

Sunday mornings it's just me and the kids because Eric runs sound at a church and has to leave around 6am. Before I write this, you should know that the only time I have slept in past 7 am in the last 9 months was the one day that April took both of my kids down to DeMotte. 

It is 9:15 am and I JUST woke up. 

Nothing woke me up. No alarm clock. No kids crying, shouting, or jumping on my bed. No dog whining or husband making noise. I just woke up all on my own. 

Suprised at how late it is, I checked the video baby monitor. 

Both kids are wide awake in their cribs in separate rooms happily playing by themselves!

JB is laying on his back with his feet up on the wall holding his stuffed bunny above him and singing. AJ is sitting up, waving her blanket around, chewing on her dolls arm, and making quiet humming-like noises on occasion. 

How I got blessed with such amazing kids, I have no idea, but I will take it!!!

Face time

I love being able to talk to friends and family from afar with modern day technology. 

Here's a bit of my joy from the past week: 

Zach cheered John on while John finished eating his sandwich. This was the only way I could get JB to eat.

Dez showing off her Candy bag. AJ entranced. 

Zach showing off his Halloween costume. 

AJ showing off how she can stand by herself. Annalyn showing off how she can sit by herself. 

I love these people and wish I lived closer to them, but since that isn't our current situation, I'll take this :)

When brand names matter...

Brand names are a joke. Most of the time, it's the exact same product produced at the exact same place with a different label slapped on. And the brand name ones are way more expensive. All that extra money is paying for advertising and a pretty label. 

At least that's what I thought until I had babies.

JB got a diaper rash the first time we used any diapers but Pampers (the most expensive kind on the shelf). I tried multiple brands, multiple times. Same result. 

One time, I decided to save money and get the Aldi brand wipes instead of pampers. I took them on a weekend trip and didn't have any backups. After two days of nothing but Aldi wipes, his butt looked like it had leprosy. Red, bumpy, pussy, and painful. 

Now he's two and a half and his skin is MUCH less sensative. I use Luvs diapers (one of the cheapest on the shelf) and Meijer wipes with no problems. But he still gets red itchy skin if I use the wrong kind of soap and don't rinse it all the way off. 

AJ can tolerate just about any kind of diapers, but boy is she picky about wipes. I use Pampers for her. On a weekend trip with friends I had Eric pick up some wet wipes for her and made sure to remind him to get Pampers because she is sensitive. He thoughtfully bought the "Pampers Sensitive" wipes instead of the regular "Pampers Baby Fresh" wipes. By the end of the weekend, she was so red and raw I didn't know what to do! When we got home, we switched back to her regular ones and used some Desitin.  The rash cleared up in a day or two. 

I use Desitin, a zinc-oxide cream, to help get rid of her rashes. I switched to the Meijer brand zinc oxide cream ("compare to Desitin" on the label) last week. She has had a rash ever since. If I used any zinc-oxide cream on JB, he would break out. I could only use A&D for him. 

The heavily guarded secret incredient in those brand name products is certainly worth it's weight in profits for those companies.

My answer for most of these problems is air and water. If I don't have the right name brand on hand, I wash them with no soap and let them run around naked for a while. I have to keep them off the carpet and couches, but they are happy. It's a lot cheaper too.  

Sometimes I think that parenting is a riddle with an answer that is always changing. Once you figure it out, you're wrong again. 

Video update

Laughing: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZviwMfijXE

Trying to Walk: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXbCdXpBaa4

Dancing: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQgE-NJG1zc

Teenagers

April took our kids down to Indiana for the weekend. Last night, I stayed at my classroom organizing, prepping, hanging things, and decorating until midnight. I've been needing that! Today I slept in past 7 for the first time since school started. I got up at 9 to pump, then went back to bed. 

We both slept in until noon.When we got up, we had coffee, captain crunch, and carrot cake for breakfast. 

If you ever thought we were grown up, you were wrong. 

We're still kids at heart. 

P.S. I do now understand why mom and dad would only let us have one bowl of sweet cereal in the mornings. 

Art Prize

Art Prize is going on in downtown GR right now. It's a pretty cool thing. It gets so many people out of their houses and visiting different places that they would otherwise never go. 

We told John we were going to go to ArtPrize with grandma and Grandpa this weekend and he was all excited. He didn't know what it was, but he knew Grandma was excited, so he was excited. We got downtown and had been walking around looking at random outdoor art pieces for about 15 minutes when John said "we go ArtPrize?" To him, ArtPrize was a destination; since we were still walking and hadn't stopped, we must not be there yet, right? We tried to explain to him that all of this was part of ArtPrize, but it didn't really stick. I decided it would be easier to give him a destination, so I told him that we were going to see the river and the art by the river. That was good enough for him. 

Yesterday, I watched a video put to music and documenting some of the ArtPrize pieces. Then, John was on his ArtPrize kick again. He asked probably 20 times if we could go to ArtPrize. I told him we couldn't go, but we could make our own art. We got out the colored pencils and went to work making art. We decided to draw what was out the window, but got distracted partway through the first tree. 

Later, Eric let John help him hang up some paintings in the basement. John remembered ArtPrize again, so Eric just went with it. 

Today, John and I finished our picture and used our fingers to "paint" it with water. He asked me "This ArtPrize" and then told me "I go ArtPrize with Daddy downstairs." My son may or may not think that art=ArtPrize and/or that ArtPrize now exists in our house. 

Anyway, if anyone wants to visit the newest ArtPrize exhibit, stop by our house!

Sunday Morning

Here is a quick summary of some the things John did this morning between the hours of 7 am and 9 am: 

Crawled into bed with me carrying his pillow, blanket, pipe, stuffed cat, and book. 

Checked out everything on my nights stand, turned my lamp on and off, crawled all over my bed, and "read" his book while I pretended to sleep. 

Tried to sit on my lap, but missed and fell down. Screamed for Daddy. By screamed I really mean SCREAMED. Didn't believe me when I told him daddy was not here. 

Sat next to me on the couch drinking juice while I read his favorite book. Looked at me and said "Mommy" (yeah bud) "I happy."

Asked for yogurt for breakfast. Ate two bites. I made an egg and toast for myself. He ate the whole thing. 

Colored a picture with a highlighter and asked "Peas have magnet?" to hang it on the fridge. 

Emptied the entire drawer under the stove. Told me he was cooking a meal. Pretended to be a dog while he ate the imaginary meal that he cooked. 

Went downstairs. Came up about 10 minutes later carrying a bucket full of recycling paper. Went out to the back porch and told me "I go store. Bye mommy."

Handed me a bucket and asked "you hang my purse? up here?" while pointing to our hanging rack with coats, hats, and a purse. 

Gave me three washclothes, 2 pair of underwear, and 1 bar of soap while I was in the shower, opening the shower door and saying "Ear go, Mommy" each time. 

Moved his potty next to the bathroom lights. Stood on it. Turned off the lights and fan for me. Moved his potty next to the sink. Couldn't reach the sink. Set the bathroom scale on top of his potty. Reached the sink. Turned on the water. Proceeded to brush his teeth with every toothbrush in the holder. 

Went into AJ's room hooting and hollering like a monkey about 5 minutes after she went down for a nap. 

Took his blanket, book, kitty, pipe, and pillow into AJ's room. Pretended to "take a nap" on the hardwood floor. Refused to leave when I tried to get AJ down for a nap again.

Was nowhere to be found after I put Audrey down in my bed for round 2 of naptime. Was found sitting in his pajamas on the front porch. Yup. Outside. No adults. When I sat down next to him on the step he looked at me, looked back at the road, and said "Mommy, I happy." Yeah buddy, well I just about had a heart attack, so I hope you're happy... Apparently he can open the front door now as well as AJ's bedroom door and every other door in the house. 

2 hours in the life of a 2 year old. You're welcome. 

Imagination!

Imaginations are amazing! At 2 years and 4 months of age, JB has begun using his imagination all the time. There are so many fun moments.

He pretends he is a different kind of animal with each bite of his meal at dinner. 

He crawls around the living room barking like a dog and licking his sister. She thinks he is hilarious. 

He talks to the "mouse" who lives in the hole in his floor (it's a cable hole). 

He gasps in with surprise, points to random corners of the house and says "ghost." (We read him the Curious George story where George wears a sheet and everyone thinks he is a ghost). 

He has two part conversations with himself, vocal and facial expressions included. 

He dances when there is no music on. 

He sets his lego people in a circle and feeds them cheese, juice, or whatever his favorite food is that day. 

He "cooks" his food (a toy ball) in his pans (my strainers). When Audrey comes too close, he says, "Audee NO, too hot" and moves his stove to a different location. Then he tells me "Mommy, bekfast weddy!" 

Kids can be a whole lot of fun. 

Talking and Technology

Kids have been pretending to talk on the phone since phones became a household item, so it came as no suprise to me today when John picked up a battery-operated clock and pretended to be talking to Uncle Mark on the phone. 

However, for some reason I was not expecting the following: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MsmmBaHDSqQ

Apparently, my kids are growing up in a world in which talking to someone on video is just as normal as talking to someone with just audio. Since then, he has been using this clock to "talk" to grandma, Aunty Anna, his cousins, his tios, and more. When we are eating, he will set it in the middle of the table and talk to it, turning it towards Audrey when she is deserving attention. Occasionally, it converts to a regular phone and he'll walk around with it on his ear. Every now and then, he'll say "Ear-go, mommy" (here you go mommy) and allow me to put it back in its place, but in general, it has become very obvious that this clock is now John's imaginary communication device. 

Oh, and AJ's "talking" is pretty cute too :)

Thanks!

Best dressed kids around thanks to Aunty April and Jenna and their excellent garage sale skills!

Good try...

Every month since she was born, I've taken a picture of Audrey laying on her yellow and grey blanket with a piece of paper next to here stating her age and any new achievements. 

Yesterday, AJ turned 7 months old and I failed to get a good picture. Here are my attempts: 

Bulletin Boards

Now that I think about it, I think I've discovered the reason that I wanted to be a teacher. 

I remember that beautiful cart full of brightly colored rolls of paper sitting in the hallway as we walked in our line, keeping our hands to ourselves, but just wanting to reach out and pull on the end of one of those rolls until the paper ran out. Not that it would ever actually run out. Those rolls were just so enticing as a kid. Who wouldn't want to be a teacher if you got to use that!

Now I've realized that maybe I should just be a bulletin board maker instead. I'm not sure I'll be good at putting creative ideas up, but boy can I hang paper. 

What's the opposite of disappointment?

Today, John wore underwear all day (except for nap time) and he didn't wet himself once!

We got up, took off his diaper, went pee, and put on some undies. 

We ate breakfast, played, got dressed, got ready for a walk, and went pee again.

We walked/rode in the stroller, saw tractors working on the road, ate a picnic lunch at the park, watched a dog retrieve a fake goose from the lake, walked to the library, and went pee again (on the big potty at the library)!

We played in the library, read some books, walked around in the shallow part of the lake, fed crackers to ducks, saw a fire-truck, walked home, and went pee on the big toilet at our house. 

We took a nap (and John wore a pull-up during naptime). We put undies back on, built a train track, cleaned up our puzzles, made dinner, ate dinner, cleaned up dinner, and went pee one more time!

Then, we took a bath, put on a diaper, skyped with Grandma, and went to bed. 

In the world of potty training, today was the opposite of a disappointment. 

Oh... we also got to eat two Jelly Beans every time we peed in the potty today.

Sleep Training

Sleep training is a horrible idea. A hormonal, over-exausted woman should not have to listen to her child screaming the dejected and confused cries of a child without the comfort that only his mother can provide. 

However, for this over-exhausted, hormonal mama, sleep training has also been a life-saver. That might be an exaggeration - at minimum, it's been a sanity saver.  

With both kids, I start off by co-sleeping. This baby has been living inside of me for over nine months; nobody who wants to remain in my good graces should try to take her away from me. I will lie next to her and nurse her. I will let him sleep on my chest all night. I will cuddle her. I will hold him. I will comfort him in any way necessary. I am her provider, comforter, life-support, and home. He knows nothing but me and needs nothing but me. I will monitor his temperature, regulate his heart beat, and observe his breathing just by holding him against me. I will relieve her fears, calm her anxiety, and subside any lack of comfort by rocking her, singing to her, and reminding her that I am here for anything that she needs. After living in the comfort of the womb for all of his existence and then being pushed, pulled, and squeezed into this cold world, my baby needs to know that I am still there for him. There's no way that I am going to make my newborn put herself to sleep all alone. These feeling last about as long as the fourth trimester. 

Around the time that my baby turns three or four months old, I am ready to share my bed with just my husband again. We start putting the baby to sleep in the crib. I still am not ready to let her cry though, so I nurse or rock her to sleep. Sleep is such a wonderful thing, it shouldn't be scary. I want my kids to enjoy sleeping in, lounging in their beds, or relaxing by themselves, not dreading when I lay them down in their cribs. When he wakes up, fusses, and cries, I respond quickly. Occasionally I rock my boy back to sleep after his late night awakenings, but usually, I lay on the twin-sized mattress on the floor in his room and nurse him. We both fall asleep there and I get to sleep with my girl for a few hours each night until her suckling wakes me up and I sneak back to my own bed. 

Soon, he learns that when he cries at night, I come. She now knows that I love her, protect her, and provide for her needs. However, at this point, he no longer needs to nurse at night. When a noise, movement, or light wakes her up at night, she still needs comfort, but she doesn't need to eat anymore. Nursing him is the easiest way to calm him and get him back to sleep though, so I usually still do. There comes a point, however, where my baby needs to learn to put himself back to sleep. For my kids, this point comes when they are about 6 months old. AJ has been waking up every two hours. She doesn't go to sleep until about midnight and then she nurses at 2, 4, and 6 am. It is now incredibly clear that she does not need to eat that often, but is simply searching for comfort. Now is the time where my job gets hard. I have to let her learn to comfort herself. 

We start a day after she turns six months old. The first night is the worst. I nurse her to sleep and lay her down. Like clockwork, she wakes up at midnight, two hours later, crying for comfort. I go in her room, pick her up, and rock her for one minute. No nursing. Then I lay her back down, tell her I love her, and leave the room. She cries. Sad, dejected, tear-jerking sobs pour out of my baby girl for the next three minutes. I sit and listen, crying myself and fighting my maternal instinct to rush in and whip out my comfort machines. Those first three minutes seem like three hours. The seconds tick by on the clock. She cries for one hundred and eighty seconds. Finally, the timer I set buzzes, and I rush back in, pick her up, and hold my baby girl close to my heart, just like I did when she was a newborn. With forced confidence I whisper quiet shushes in her ear as I hold her near me and sway back-and-forth, up-and-down. Her sobs slow down. Her breathing steadies. She is calm. With continued comfort noises, I lay her back down, remind her that I love her, and quietly leave the room. This time, she screams. After five minutes of waiting, I repeat the process. The third time I have to wait for seven minutes. I'm not sure that I can do it, but about a minute in, her crying slows down. She is comforting herself! She does not put herself to sleep yet, but she calms herself down. There is no more screaming, but she is still whimpering. I go back in after seven minutes and pick her up again. This time, she relaxes immediately. When I tell her I love her and leave the room, she rests her head down, puts her hand to her mouth, and barely fusses as I leave the room. I set my timer for ten minutes this time and lay down with the baby monitor next to me. I wake up to my timer buzzing, but no noises from the monitor. I peek in at my baby girl. She is sound asleep. I go back to bed and fall asleep, expecting to have to repeat the whole process in another two hours, but not sure if I will be able to. It's 12:30.

I wake up suddenly and listen. There is complete silence. What woke me up? I roll over to check the time and feel shooting pain in my chest. That must be what woke me up. It is 6:30am, and I haven't nursed her since about 10:00pm. This is the longest I have ever gone without nursing AJ and I feel like I am about to explode. My shirt is soaked. I lay in bed, not sure what to do, and soon hear AJ fussing over the monitor. She might put herself back to sleep if I leave her, but I am so ready to nurse her. I pick up my baby and she smiles a huge tired smile, realizes I'm ready to feed her, and latches on immediately. Her little body is completely relaxed in my arms and her eyes droop closed again as she sucks. I sit down and lean against the wall. Soon I jerk awake and realize AJ is completely asleep again, so I lay her back into her crib, She didn't empty the other side, so I pump a few ounces to relieve the pressure before going back to bed myself. Night one of sleep training was successful.  (Note: here are the increments of crying 3+5+7+a few during the 10 minute stretch = 15 to 20 minutes of crying with comfort sessions in between. 15 minutes of crying and 8 hours of sleep. That's about the same amount of crying that would occur if she had woken up every 2 hours to nurse like she had been doing).

On night two of sleep training, AJ falls asleep during the 7 minute stretch, only about 10 minutes of crying total. On night three, she doesn't wake up crying at all. I nurse her and laid her down around 8pm. She doesn't wake up until 6am. 

We started sleep training on July 27. It is now August 14. Since then, AJ has slept at least 6 hours every night and closer to 10 hours on most nights. Two evenings of misery for me and now my baby knows how to sleep. I think she enjoys it. Some say sleep training teaches your child not to trust you. I can see the validity in that. However, I think that sleep training (as long as it's not done to early) teaches a kid to trust herself enough to calm herself and trains a kid to sleep. For me, it's worth the tradeoff. Now, sleep training doesn't eliminate all problems. We're still going to have rough nights. I still nurse her to sleep most evenings. When she learns a new skill, grows a new tooth, or hits a growth spurt, I'm sure she'll be up in the middle of the night. But for now, I get to share my evenings with my husband with no kids around. Ahh...

John is two anad a half. I don't remember the exact details of his sleep training, but they were similar to AJs. Now, he goes to bed great. He sleeps from 8pm until 9 or 10am. He knows what to expect and he knows it's not a scary place. When he wakes up in the mornings, he sometimes sings to himself, plays with his stuffed animals, or puts his feet up on the wall and practices saying all of his new words. We just finished the first week of John sleeping in his toddler bed with no side instead of the enclosed crib. This is another transition, but he's doing great with it. He has been getting up around 8am, which is a bit earlier, but will go lay back down in his bed as long as his door is open and he knows no one else is up. I can't say for sure, but I'm pretty sure that when John was a baby, he learned how to sleep by sleeping with us. When he was half a year old, he took that knowledge and learned how to sleep by himself. Now he is learning again. 

Sleep training sucks, but I'm sure glad I did it. 

Problems

The kids were happily playing downstairs, so I put some pillows by the base of the steps to keep Audrey away and went up to clean the kitchen. 

About five minutes later, John came up and saying "Audee kiming. Audee come up stairs." 

Sure enough, this is what I saw when I looked down. 

Folks, we've got problems. 

Triple Berry Pancakes!

Yum.

Why I don't Blog...

I'm a perfectionist. I have a major in English, minor in communications, and am a certified teacher in the state of Michigan. Because of this, I often start a blog post or run an idea through my head, but never see it through to fruition because - well - it's not perfect. I get distracted by kids, needs, responsibilities, etc. and never return to my potentially perfect post. 

Recently, I decided to screw it and just write down my thoughts. No pre-formed thoughts, no proofreading, just typing. I think it is good for me to get my thoughts out and figured this was the only way that I would actually get some blog posts written. 

I did a trial run. 3 sentences. That's it. No re-reading, no editting, no perfection. And what do you know? I misspelled the title. Of course, I'm surrounded by other perfectionists. I'm not the only one who thinks it's fun to point out grammatical errors on professional publications - I come from a family of others like me. My mistake did not go unnoticed 

So here's the thing: even though I may be a disappointment (yes, the kind with one ess and two pees) to the other English majors in my family, I'm not going to stop. I am going to continue to write down my thoughts, share my pictures, tell my stories, and make grammatical errors. Why? Because it's good for me. It is my outlet, my relaxation, my baby book, and more. 

They say "practice makes perfect" which implies that perfection is not attained until the practice has ceased. I think I'll just keep practicing. Get those red pens ready ladies!

Dissapointment

Today, John wore underwear all day. 

He went pee three times. 

He only peed in the toilet once.

Talking

One of John's favorite things lately is "talking." He'll lay down next to Audrey with his face inches from hers and just jibber-jabber. Today, instead of sleeping during naptime, he is just practicing his talking. Here's a transcript of what I am hearing: 

Audrey dirty highchair dirty

Mommy? mommy? 

my monkey. no monkey no monkey no mokey no monkey no monkey no monkey no. 

backing. pray? uh huh. two eight two eight two eight. bye. 

help. help help. have bear. (while reaching to stuffed bear on floor) no. get him. no. 

out! mommy. mommy. 

(singing) boobooboboobooboo. nonononononononono. hmhmhmhmhm. 

my. (inaudible, lays down) 

in there. in there. in there. 

monkey. 

see bandaid. see bandaid. (singing) see bandaid. (whining) see bandaid. 

my bay (?) my bed. my bed. my bed my bed my bed. 

a boob. have a penis. have a penis. 

singing) mommy mommy mommy. mom mom mom mom mom. 

more chappy more chappy more chappy. more 

Audrey play. ok. play play play play. 

more. my choo-choo. my choo-choo. my choo-choo. 

Mommy? mommy? 

(farting sounds with mouth. jumps around in crib)

bebleblebeble. (whines)

mommy mommy out out bye-bye bye-bye 

mommy mommy mommy mommy

At this point Pearl (the 5-year-old I babysit who was sleeping in my room) woke up anad snuck into his room. He says "Hi" and she whispers to him quietly. Soon Sam joins. 

Pearl: "You have two blankies? I have two of the same blankies. One of them is too small. Are these your bow-ties?" (um hm) "Is that your baby? (hm hm) I like her little barrett. Can I sit on this chair?" (out out out). "What animal do you want in there? Does it make you a little less scared if you have a animal?" (out out out). 

She leaves the room and peaks around the corner at me on the couch but pretends not to be there. John starts to whine. Pearl sneaks back into my room and lays down again. John whines some more. 

Ok, I'll stop transcribing and go get him out of his crib. 

After I picked John up, he kept asking about Pearl (who was pretending to be asleep). We stood outside the door and peeked into the room. She quickly rolled over when the door opened and said "I'm still sleepy. Does he want to sleep with me? He can lay on his daddy's side." So John and I proceeded to crawl into bed with her and have a nice half hour cuddle while Miles (Pearl's 3 year old brother) and Audrey kept sleeping. 

Then we made bread together. It was a good day.  

Fireworks

Fireworks have never been my favorite thing in the world, but I never really minded them until today. 

Have you ever tried putting a noise-sensitive baby to sleep while a fireworks show is going on and every other house on the street thinks it's their job to add to it? It's next to impossible. 

Last night was July 3. My 2-year-old woke up 3 times screaming bloody murder because he was terrified of the "booms" that kept happening. Since when is it ok to light fireworks the day before and after the holiday? Tonight we watched the neighbor light off some small scale fireworks in his front yard before putting John to bd. I explained to him that there would be lots of fireworks, but he didn't have to be scared because it was just fireworks. He quietly exclaimed "boom" with a serious look on his face. 

Sam is terrified of thunder. He hides in our room, the centermost room of the house, between the bed and the wall whenever a storm rolls in. For him, fireworks are like a storm on crack. Our room is no longer sufficient protection. He has taken to curling up under the desk in the basement when Eric is sitting there or hiding in Jenna's room when we are upstairs. 

I am currently listening to the baby monitor to see whether or not my next-to-impossible mission has been accomplished. I hear the high-pitch squeal as a prequel to another "boom." Just as expected, she's fussing again. And now it is turning into a full on cry. Mission impossible, here I come again. 

I am incredibly grateful that we live in a free country. These fireworks are certainly a reminder of that. If we lived in a war zone, I would never get to sleep. Thank you to all of those who have lived through sleepless nights of much less innocent explosions in order to bring us the independence and freedom that we celebrate today. 

The only thing I'm not clear on is how blowing off explosions of light is a celebration of our independence. The neighbor, however, is completely on board; he's at it again...

Plagiarism...

This is from http://www.scarymommy.com/when-assholes-criticize-public-breastfeeding . I've been in a pregnancy/lactating "coma" since August of 2011, so I'm not witty enough to come up with these replies on my own. I can't wait until April Mary starts lactating because I'm sure that she will be great at throwing these comebacks out there to stun those "assholes." 

I couldn't copy and paste it, but it was too funny not to share, so I took screen shots. All my breastfeeding sisters, friends, and cousins should memorize these :)

Better late than never...

About 2 days after Audrey was born, a friend (Alison) was bringing dinner over for our family. She got stuck in the snow piled up at the end of our driveway. 

Now you have to understand that this winter was brutal. It snowed almost every day for months, which means that we had to shovel our driveway every day for months. The snow piles were taller than me. In the back yard, you could literally step off the snow pile and onto our roof. In the front yard, you could use the snow piles as small sledding hills. We shovelled a lot of snow this winter. 

Then, to make matters worse, the plows would come by every day to two to clear the roads and push all the snow from the corner of the road to our driveway into the entrance of our driveway, making a nice solid packed ridge of snow at the end and meaning that we also had to shovel a good 10 feet of road if we ever wanted to leave our house. 

On this particular day I was out of commission with a new baby, so Eric and Jenna had shovelled our driveway once, including the strip of road, but couldn't get the few inches of ice buildup off the base. Then, it snowed again, putting about two inches of snow on top of the two inches of ice. A few hours later, the plow came by to replace that solid ridge of snow at the end of our drive. 

When Allison came by with some delicious Dominican food for our dinner, she (predictably) got stuck in the sludge pile and couldn't get into our driveway. As my mom was pushing her car back into the road, a green plow truck turned onto our street. He asked if they needed help and then proceeded to plow our whole driveway for us, including the mountain range on the road. 

I was very grateful for this kind-hearted stranger. Over the next few days, I recognized the green plow truck driving by and realized it lived just down the street. I decided that I should say thank you to him for his kindness. I baked some banana bread a few weeks later with every intention of bringing  it over there, but then I chickened out because I thought I'd look like a crazy lady, so we ate the banana bread ourselves. 

About two months ago, Katie posted a recipe for banana blueberry bread, so I made some of that. I made two batches (one with blueberries and one with nuts) and baked two mini-loaves and two regular loaves. Then, I wrapped, labeled, and put the mini-loaves into a basket with a "thank-you" card, ready to deliver to the guy that drives the green truck. Then, I waited for him to come home. This green truck has been parked on the road a few houses down almost every night since January, but it didn't show up once for the next three days! On the third day, I was in charge of bringing dinner to Allison because she finally had her beautiful baby girl. So, I switched out the card and brought the mini-loaves there for their breakfast the next day. 

After that, I became a creepy stalker. I looked out the window multiple times a day to check if that green truck was home. Finally, it was parked in front of the house one day. I took the opportunity to count exactly how many houses down it was and lock it into my memory. This way, even if the truck wasn't in front of the house, I would still know where to bring it. Then, I got to work. I didn't feel like chopping nuts, so instead I made chocolate chip in one batch. When the bread was ready at 10:30pm, I asked Eric if I was allowed to bring it there right then or if that would be too creepy. He said that I should wait until morning. 

The next morning... the truck was gone. After church, I glanced up from our lunch and noticed a green flash drive by our house. I quickly got John out of his high chair, put our shoes on, grabbed the bread basket, and headed out for a walk. No truck in front of the house. We went anyway because I knew which house it was now. When we got there, I saw the truck parked in the garage and the driver cleaning something. John walked up and said hi and we FINALLY delivered a proper thank you to the guy that plowed our driveway five months ago. 

Here's photographic evidence of all the banana bread we've eaten due to this venture: 

Yup...the bread is sitting on the couch right by the window in the last picture because I was sitting there watching out the window for him to come home. That's right. 

Language

Yesterday at dinner John said "Sea-salt pease" when he was asking for the salt. I was amazed. How did he know it was sea-salt and not just regular salt? I didn't teach him that. Maybe he read it!

Today, I figured out where he got that. All day, he would preface each word with the initial sound and a long e. For example: 

Chair=che-chair

Sam=see-sam

Bus=be-bus (I started beat boxing once or twice when he said this one) 

potty=pee-potty

juice=gee-juice

You get the picture. As my English, Language Arts, Communications, and TESOL degrees all testify, I love language and especially studying how one aquires a language (first or second). For this reason, I have been having a blast observing as John aquires the English language. He's already noticing the onset of words! Maybe I should try to teach him his letters already; this new stage seems to lend itself perfectly to such a task. That's easier said than done though. 

Every time we go down to Indiana and he spends time with his cousin Anna, he comes back with some new aspect of language. I love it. His little brain is like a sponge right now, soaking up all of this information. I am just amazed at how much he can process. 

I've also been taking advantage of this stage by trying to incorporate a bit of espanol into our daily communication. He only uses a few phrases without prompting (te amo, agua); however, lately he's been responding (in English) to the questions that I ask him in Spanish. When I asked him "Que haces?" he replied with "Drive" (he was driving his car around). When I asked "donde esta el coche?" he said "hiding" (it was parked under the couch). I'm not sure if he understands what I'm asking or if he's just good at reading context cues and inflections. Either way, I'm going to try to keep it up. 

My other little language learner is Audrey. She's not learning words, syntax, semantics, or whole languages yet, but she is definitely finding her voice and exploring sounds. Her raspy laughs and high-pitch squeals are oh-so joyful. Her other new thing is completely unrelated to language. She is trying to move all the time. While laying on her belly, she can turn in circles, push herself backward, wiggle and kick, get up on her knees to rock, and do mini-pushups. Right now she is staring at me giggling and alternating between mini-pushups and sticking her bum up in the air and kicking her feet out while her whole body jolts back and forth. Not much actual forward motion, but she is getting there! Eric says she is moments away from crawling.

Here is a quick video of Audrey right now (she started to get frustrated as soon as I started filming her):

http://youtu.be/klRuJxXxwso

And here is a nice long 10-minute view of my kids talking to themselves from earlier this evening:

http://youtu.be/hDdIUJpbYWM

Before you were "Mommy"

From http://www.scissortailsilk.com/2014/01/24/before-you-were-mommy/

Ladies, there will come a day when your husband walks in the door and you do not turn around. You will be preoccupied with filling up sippy cups and wiping booties. You will shout over the running bath water, “Hey! Glad you’re home.” But it won’t mean what it used to mean. It won’t be full of eager anticipation to spend time together. It will be full of expectations to aid in the demands of the family. “Glad you’re home,” will more properly translate, “Thank God for two extra hands to help me.” And “Praise the Lord I might get five minutes alone.”

Ladies, there will come a day when you spend every last ounce of yourselves on your children. The demands of life and the babies will come before any other priority. What little of yourself you have left at the end of the day will be used to crawl into bed before someone is awake to need you again. The thought of doing anything else after the children are asleep will sound impossible and your handsome husband’s happy smile had better mean he is willing to get up with the baby and nothing more. 

The husband that once completed your heart will be just one more person who needs you. The charming things that you fell for will go unnoticed. The daily grind will become expected.

Men, there will come a time when that beautiful bride sitting next to you hasn’t showered in days. She will be at her wit’s end wearing other people’s food and poop on her clothing. She will need to hear that she is beautiful, but she won’t listen to you. She will need to know that she is still lovable, but she won’t want you near her. When you arrive home after meeting the demands of work, you will be expected to meet the demands of your family. Your wife will hear none of your exhaustion, and you will see none of hers.

Men, you will call home to ask a quick question and anticipate a two-minute conversation. Half of it will be spent listening to your wife talk to your kids. As a matter of fact, you will make it no more than a few sentences in to any conversation ever before your wife spurts out direction to your children.“Don’t climb that!” or “Don’t sit on your sister!” You will become accustomed to these outbursts, but you will forget that there was ever a time when you had her full attention.

But Ladies, when Mommy becomes your name, remember this man. Remember that you are his wife. Remember how much you love and appreciate him in this moment. Remember his dedication to your family. Remember his love and devotion to you. And then, when the days are long and you need a break, fall into his arms.

Men, remember your bride. The care and love that she has given you will soon be spilled over to your children. Her love for you will not change. Give her the grace to be enough even when she doesn’t feel like it. Remember when your days are long, hers are too. Remember her. Fall in love with her again.

Remember each other. Remember the two that made the family. Let the Lord lead you both together. Because when the days are endless and the hours short, it will only be His love who keeps you together. It will only be His mercy that gently guides your hearts as one. Hold tightly to one another, and even more tightly to the Lord. There is no greater adventure for you to experience and no greater gift than to walk through parenthood with your best friend.  You are a team. Every single day.

Burritos

Today I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen when I suddenly got the unmistakable urge that my bowels needed to be emptied. 

AJ was content in the swing, so I quickly stole away to the bathroom. About two seconds after I sat down, she started screaming and John came in the bathroom demanding my attention. In an attempt to kill two birds with one stone without hindering my bowel evacuation, I turned on some music on my phone, gave it to John, and asked him to go sing to Audrey. She stopped crying shortly after he walked her direction, so I silently applauded myself for knowing the needs of my children so well. 

I finished up, washed my hands, and walked into the kitchen where I found John entertaining Audrey, just like I expected. However, instead of simply singing to her, he was rubbing her leg with nothing other than a frozen burrito. That's right, a frozen burrito. 

I found my cell phone nicely placed in the ice cube tray of the freezer; it was playing music to the frozen fruit. 

Discouraged

I've never had a really hard time making friends, but it has certainly gotten harder in the last few years. I think that I have become less outgoing than I used to be. Here's my problem: I somehow seem to be strangely attracted to the people that move away. Maybe it's my fault; I do love and encourage travel. I should stop doing that. 

2003: It all started in about 8th grade. Taylor Z joined our class and we became insta-friends. After a year of doing everything together, she moved to Florida. 

2005: I became really good friends with Kevin K when he started taking classes at our school. We would hang out at his pool, chat online all night, help eachother with homework, and hang out a lot (Ok, I might have had a crush on him). A year and a half later, he moved to Missouri. 

2007: I started college and became really great friends with Ruth B. We would sleep in eachother's dorms, go for walks, study/talk, and go for late-night food runs. She dropped out after her first semester and moved away. 

2008: The next year of college I started hanging out with Janeen G. We would work out together, have girl talk, watch movies together, and spend time together daily. She dropped out at the end of that semester.

2009: Eric and I got married and moved into the same apartment complex as Cristy and Andrew. We would have dinner together once or twice a week and go to each other's apartments almost daily for games, a tv show, or just to relax. A year later, they moved to Chicago (still manageable for monthly visits) and a year after that to Ohio (not so manageable).

2013: After finishing school, it became pretty hard to make new friends, so I just stuck with Eric. However, after staying at home with John for a few months, I realized that it is important for me to have some female friends, preferably ones that have kids. In April, I went out for drinks with a girl I met at Kuyper who has a son 6-months younger than John. It was pretty random, but good to get out. She invited me to join a mom's group that was just getting started.     

I was pretty hesitant at first a "mom's group" sounds like something for old ladies, not something for me: a young lass in my 20s who happens to also be a mom. Well it turns out, all of the other moms were in the same boat as me, and this mom's group is just about exactly what we needed. Communication happens through facebook and there are multiple "events" every week, consisting of anything from pajama playdates to family picnics. Last summer we played with other kids and moms  at parks and the beach. Last fall we played at farms and in backyards. This winter we played at the mall, museums, and in homes. We've had craft playdates, holiday playdates, exercise playdates, and more. Not only have we met friends for John, but I have made some great friends too. I went to Zumba with 5 other moms once a week last fall. We have had Mom's Nights Out at restaurants, bars, and in homes. We go to playdates for ourselves as much as for our kids. 

From August through December last year, Amanda, one of the moms, watched John three days a week while I worked. Jessie, another mom from our mom's group, is pretty close with Amanda, so I got to know them both pretty well. They're great. We spend a lot of time together. They both wear yoga pants, have messy houses, are flexible and hospitable, and eat McDonalds. 

Amanda has one son, Rogan, who is six months younger than John. Jessie has two boys: Elijah is 6 months older than John, and James is a year younger than John. So when we're all together, we have Audrey (2 months) and four boys, ages 1, 1 1/2, 2, and 2 1/2. It's great fun. 

There are about 17 moms in our mom's group, and I get along with most of them really well. However, Jessie and Amanda are both Christians and have very similar views as me, so I feel like we can talk to each other about our struggles, frustrations, and excitements and get good advice that aligns with my values and beliefs. Of all my mom friends, they live the closest as well. Jessie lives about 2 miles away and Amanda lives about 5 miles away. The other moms are all over: NE Grand Rapids, Wyoming, Caledonia, and Hudsonville. 

In January we had a "momcation" where a bunch of us went up to Sparta and stayed in a beach house for a weekend, kids free. We had tons of food, games, drinks, a dance party, and fun.

Amanda and Jessie were both carefree and relaxed, but not dumb about over-drinking or drama. I like them. 

After Audrey was born, they both brought me dinner and hung out a few times. We went on a group date with their husbands and a few other couples on Valentine's Day. Eric and I went over to play games with Jessie and her husband one night and it was lots of fun. We chilled, ate snacks, played Settlers, and watched The Office. It was really relaxed and comfortable. It felt like hanging out at one of my sisters where I can just be myself, eat doritos, and joke around without feeling judged. 

And here comes the discouraging part....

In March, Amanda and her husband announced that they were moving to Mexico to work on missions for half a year. They are going on sort-of a trial basis with the idea in mind that if it goes well, it may turn into a permanent situation. They'll head down there in April. This is fantastic; I am so excited for them! I am not so excited for myself, but at least I still have Jessie. 

Later that week, Jessie and I were over at Amanda's house for a play date with our kids talking about the upcoming move to Mexico when Jessie said something along the lines of "Well, how close will you be to California? Maybe we can visit you if we move out there." 

Aca-scuse me? Move to California? What is this crazy talk? Turns out, Jessie's husband, who is self-employed in Michigan, got a job offer from a company in California. Over the next few weeks, they decided to take that horrible, no good, very bad, far away California job. They'll move out there in April. 

Well folks, it's April now and both of my new-best friends are moving away next week. It's discouraging. 

Here's my attempted-positive spin on things: Adrianna has been a great friend for a very long time. We haven't lived near each other since high school and still manage to stay in contact with each other and hang out together when we are near each other. Eric has been my best friend for almost seven years and if he moves anywhere far away, I get to move with him. Even though my two favorite families from my lame-o mom's group are moving away, there are lots of other moms that I have gotten to know. Maybe this is God pushing me to get out of my comfort zone and be a stronger witness for him.

I'm going to do my best to focus on those positive things instead of wallowing in my depression. But for now, here are a few shots of my most recent moving-away friends:

Jessie is on the left; Amanda is second from the right. 

There's my hubby with their hubbies and an awesome photo bomber.

 

Jars

After collecting a shelf full of jars, I had to do SOMETHING with them. If I just recycled them all, Eric would not only be annoyed, but also make fun of me. Can't have that. 

Here's what I did: 

I have a set in my office at work and another set on my dresser at home to keep my hair ties, bobby pins, necklaces, etc. in order. 

I recycled the rest of them. Don't tell Eric.