There's No Need to Make Me Feel Guilty. . .

. . .I do a good enough job of that myself.

Life has been a little crazy around here lately. Full of uncertainties, instabilities, stress, stress, stress and, the need to finally announce our surprise of a pregnancy to all.

Life hasn't been easy. But, as life goes, there is always someone who is worse off right? Don't get me wrong. It's both humbling, and touching, to hear on the news, or read a story, about someone who overcame an impossible situation with strength, faith and traits that are admirable. Knowing that people have survived the most heart wrenching of situations is always a good reminder to me. It reminds me to be thankful for the challenges that are mine. It reminds me that it's possible for someone to make it through a hard, and desperate, situation and not be known for the failures that brought them there, but for the character shown in overcoming their hardships. But sometimes I wonder when my story will be told with that hint of, "Just be grateful you don't have to deal with what she's going through".

I don't want to be babied. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I just don't want people to feel they have to lay on the guilt or teach me a lesson. I personally think its a bad tactic. Stories of the less fortunate should serve as humbling reminders. They should be personal revelations, and each of us should be allowed to interpret them in our own way. When they are used to cake on the guilt I find myself turned off. I get angry and upset. Sure, I understand their point. I know I could have things a lot worse. I try to remind myself of that everyday. But my experiences are my own. I have a right to my feelings, and don't appreciate being told they are wrong. Anyone could find themselves in my situation and discover they feel the exact same way.

I read in a book that God knows us, and knows how we learn. So when he has a lesson he wants us to learn he will teach it to us in a way that will be well received. That is such a comforting thought to me. God will get his message through, and he knows I'll listen if it's presented to me in the right way.

This pregnancy has brought some interesting feelings about. To say it's been a struggle is an understatement. I can't believe the baby lived past the first 12 weeks. Life was so awful then. I felt so torn between emotions. I didn't want to have this child alone, but my marriage lie in uncertainty. I wanted my husband to be with me, but having a child with a man I couldn't trust was heart wrenching. I begged to understand why I was having this baby. Why now? We weren't a family. We needed to learn how to be a husband and wife again. How could we have a child together in the situation we were in? At times I didn't know if the baby had survived. At times I thought it would be better if it didn't. It seemed so unfair to bring another child into our world of uncertainty. The baby did live, and that did make me happy. But it still brought about so many more fears and stresses.

Amongst all of this the "Be Grateful-s" rang through my head, and sometimes out of people's mouths. Be grateful you can have kids. Be grateful that it's healthy. Be grateful that you didn't loose the pregnancy. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

I try hard everyday to be grateful. When they couldn't find the heartbeat I knew there was no good way to give that kind of news to a mother. I had tried to prepare myself because I hadn't been that sick. I even assured the doctors that if they had to deliver that news it was OK. When they did the ultra-sound and showed me the heart beat I was so relieved. They gave me the pictures, and I was just so excited. I wanted to show them to everyone. That was my baby, and it was perfect and wonderful!

But sadly I'm a woman, and I can experience more than one emotion at a time. Along with excitement came the knowledge of the hardships this pregnancy would bring. This is just a really bad time to have a baby. We are poor beyond belief. Our future is still very uncertain at this time. And, even though my husband and I continue to work on our marriage, it is still in a kind of volatile state. I'm so excited for my baby, but I can't just be excited. There are so many things raining down on us right now that the reality of our situation has to be faced.

I've come to be OK with the imperfections of our situation. Though I don't understand how, I know things will be OK. I have realized that I can have this baby with my husband, even if the trust in our marriage is a little unstable right now. I am grateful that I can have children. I'm grateful that I have three beautiful little boys already. And I can't wait to hold this new little bundle of joy. I know I'll be tired. I don't know how I'll survive raising 4 kids under 4. But I'm sure I'll learn that I was capable all along. And I'll come out on the other side having learned something new about myself.

I hear stories all the time of people who have lost children, people who can't have children, people who lost everything in a fire, etc. and I thank God everyday for blessing me with so many wonderful things. I thank him for my beautiful kids, who are happy, healthy and strong. For allowing me to have a decent home to raise them in. That, against all odds, we have managed to still piece together something of a life thanks to friends, family and the church. I always feel so sorry that others must be asked to go through the trials they are given. It seems so unfair. Why them? Why am I allowed to enjoy so many wonderful things when they must be asked to endure so much?



I have a pretty good understanding of what I should be grateful for. I remind myself every night when I put my kids to bed. I feel the guilt every time my little boys bring me a flower after I have yelled at them. I feel it whenever I have spent the whole day trying to clean the house, and telling them to go away, and then realizing I didn't even take a few minutes to enjoy them that day. I'm a mom. I feel guilty and grateful every second of my life. But I also feel a lot of other things and those feelings deserve some validation too.

I love everyday I spend with my family. I love watching my three little boys. Though I didn't always think it felt right to have 3 boys and no girls, I really love it. I love that the twins get to have a little brother. And I love the things they are learning because they have a little brother. It just seems to fit so well into our little family. I have also finally figured out why I so desperately want a girl. And it wasn't the selfish, unappreciative, ungrateful version people tried to tell me it was. It was simply because it was something I had pictured my whole life. Something I had saved all my toys from childhood for. Something I felt was so real, I reserved a room in our house, from the very beginning, for my baby girl. Loosing something like that would be hard for anyone. It didn't mean I didn't want boys. It didn't mean I loved boys less. It just meant I had lost something that had felt incredibly real to me my whole life, and I had to come to terms with that part of it.

As far as this baby goes, we do know the gender. But I have just felt so many uncertainties about the baby, that I almost feel like I don't really know. I've told people what it is, but as time goes on it gets more and more awkward. So I've decided to hold off on announcing it online. The pregnancy has been so different. The way the baby sits and moves seems so strange sometimes. The other night I put my hand my tummy and I could feel it moving. Everything felt so real and defined. I have never felt a baby in my tummy in that much detail before. It's so hard to believe it's just inches from touching my hand. It's right there, responding and moving to my touch. It feels so much more real to me in that way than my other babies, and yet I know so much less about it. I can't decide on a name, colors or clothes. I don't see things in the store that just yell at me that they belong to this baby. It's just so different from my other pregnancies in that way. Anyway. . .tune in around September 16 if you want to find out what we had!

My Potty Training Story

A new trend has begun in my house. Suddenly the twins are obsessed with what is covering their nether regions. There's the obsession with the Mickey Diapers. This started when I had to get them excited about their new diapers because we were out of "Marty" diapers-- they had zebras on them, Marty from Madagascar.

At times this would interfere with our plan to only have them wear disposables at night.

The obsession with the Mickey diaper soon transformed into an obsession of the Mickey underwear.
"Go get some underwear."

"It's not underwear, it's my Mickeys!"

Now the obsession has turned to, "I don't want diaper I want underwears!"

Can't say that I'm too disappointed in that. Except that it's only one of the twins that has taken on this obsession. The other one has become more friendly to the potty-- he realized he could get a treat if he sat on it. But one morning I grabbed the wrong twin to commence in potty training and was met with a huge fit. Needless to say, he's freaked out of the toilet so the older twin is the only one who is potty trained. And I think I can finally safely say, "Potty trained!"

I started when I had a week off from work. I gave him a little treat each time he sat on the toilet. Then when he went on the toilet he got to watch 15 minutes of a movie. We started out with him wearing no bottoms at all, and I'd put diapers on him at nap time and bed time. I was impressed. He even pooped in the toilet. Though he would ask, "Where did the poop go?" after I'd flush it.

 After two days we tried just underwear. No pants. Sometimes we'd go out, and he would have to use pants. He would usually do pretty well. Sometimes he wouldn't go while we were out, but he would pee his pants when we got home. That was frustrating! Moving from nothing to wearing underwear led to a couple accidents. I changed it from sitting on the potty every 15 minutes to every 10. We were beginning to be mildly successful. Then a trip to the doctors led to two accidents, very close together, and a little boy running around McDonalds in a diaper and a shirt.

Pants and underwear seemed not to work so well. And the diapers at nap and bed time seemed to lead to him just waiting until then to go. So we nixed the diapers at nap and bed time. Which led to bed wetting a couple times through the night. The nap was OK, however. Now we have him go to the bathroom before bed, put a pull-up on him and we all sleep peacefully through the night. He even woke up dry once.

We had some issues when he would go with Grandma. I told my mom to just take off his pants and underwear, and he would probably go in the toilet. Now he does great when we visit people. Even if I'm not there. 

I have to admit I was at a loss at times.

He'd have accidents and I would feel like a failure.

He would earn his play place trip for going on the potty, and getting all his stickers, and a few seconds after being there he would pee his pants.

He would ask to go potty, I'd rush to the nearest bathroom, he wouldn't go and then 10 minutes later he would ask again. This pattern would repeat several times until I just wanted to scream-- this only happened when we were out. I was used to kids that when you took them to the bathroom they would go, but not my little guy. He went when he was ready.

Sometimes I would get frustrated and say we were staying in the bathroom until he went. This would lead to an emotional outburst, from him and maybe a little me. These, and others, would make me worry that maybe he wasn't ready, and I had traumatized him by starting him too soon.

But all these problems slowly faded away as time went on.

*To help when we are out we carry around a little plastic toilet with us-- which is our number one toilet choice for the little one right now. This sometimes leads to a game of musical toilets.

Our only problem now is the pooping. He suddenly stopped pooping in the toilet, which is pretty normal. I offer him a diaper to poop in and he just says, "No diaper! I want underwears!"

One time I came downstairs and he had pooped his pants. He had then taken wipes and shoved them down his underwear to clean him self up. He did this when he would poop on the toilet too. I came upstairs to find a poop covered toilet, with a boy using a wad of poop covered wipes, desperately trying to clean up the mess.

"I clean up!" He would say.

It was kind of sweet, and a little disgusting :).

We're still working on the pooping thing.

Our potty training venture has led to the use of a lot of charts and stickers. At first we had a chart where he would get a smiley for sitting on the toilet, and a sticker for going potty. When he got 100 smileys he could pick a treat from the bucket. When he got 25 stickers he could go to the playplace. This has started to get confusing, so we changed it to a smiley for going potty and a sticker for a day of no accidents. Same prizes apply-- though we had to change the treat to a "big treat" because the treat bucket has become a small reward for going on the potty.

We waited till one in the morning one night for him to go to the bathroom before bed-- this was before the pull-ups idea. This was an effort to make it through the night without bed wetting. Well, unfortunately, while we were waiting he drank some of my soda, and wet the bed anyway. His refusal to go before nap and bedtime led to us giving him a treat from the bucket if he did. This led to him wanting a treat every time he went. Which led to the question, "Do you want a treat or a movie?"

 I just go with it. I figure, like the other things, it will eventually fade out. 

Last weekend we were shopping at Ikea and he wanted a train set. The train set was cheap, and I felt like I would just get it for him for doing so well on the potty. But we're poor and can't afford to pay bills, so I felt like I shouldn't spend money on something like that. We made a deal, if he could get really good at potty training-- no accidents, no pooping his pants and waking up dry-- he could earn the train. We made another chart with 100 squares. He gets a sticker each time he does one of the things I mentioned. Sadly, I think he forgot about the train.

When I started potty training I thought, "This will be a step towards things getting a little easier."

Wrong! It's almost easier to leave them in diapers. But it will be easier one day.

I also started out saying, "I won't get upset. I won't yell. I want this to be positive. I don't want it to be traumatizing and awful."

Well, that flew out the window fast. Each accident just made me want to cry. It felt like a missed opportunity for him to really get it.

 I've heard a lot of stories about how children can get really messed up if you approach potty training wrong. It made me nervous. I felt like it was a task I could never accomplish. Having done it feels wonderful! I'm so proud of him! And I'm proud of me too! Every time he goes on the toilet I still have to do a little happy dance!

That's my boy! Note the harness. Santa brought the boys these harness' with straps for when we go out. This is because they refuse to sit in the stroller. I can't say it makes things easier, but after almost loosing one of the twins, I have to say it makes things safer.

Knowing My Limits

I thought by now I knew my limits. I knew when to call it quits. But when I look around, knowing there's really no way to get relief, it's hard to throw in the towel.

This week has been awful. My husband started clinicals with school, and now has one more absent night of the week. I feel so bad for him. I just can't give him the relief he probably needs. Mostly because we both need relief. He has to wake up early, but always ends up staying up late to help me put the boys to bed, etc. I'm sure he wants to come home and just relax, but he usually comes home to help me rally the troops and get them in line. It's really not fair. Not fair for either of us.



I feel like I've been on my own for this whole week. Though that's only partially true. I've now taken on a new job, luckily the hours are pretty low key, plus I still sub at the school. Even though I only worked two days this week the house is a disaster. And the boys just haven't allowed me to catch up. They all seem to be uncontainable this week, and they keep making uncontainable messes.


I've been yelling in that same voice I used when I was pregnant last summer. I thought it was all because of pregnancy, but now I'm thinking the age between 12 months and 18 months is just plain hard. It sort of feels like limbo. The baby isn't napping like he used too, but still isn't ready for just one nap. He doesn't take bottles like he used to, but still isn't ready to give them up. And the worst part is that getting into the same things over and over is still fun for him.



I thought back to the twins. I thought about how, before they turned 1, everything seemed under control. 6 to 12 months was great. They stayed on schedule really well. The started being able to eat finger foods and hold their own bottles. They were playful and fun, but couldn't get into everything. It was great!

Then came their first birthday, and all was lost. I don't think we really felt back on track until they were able to get down to just one nap a day.

Yes, I've been monster mom. On the verge of feeling like I've totally lost it, and will never find it again. Knowing that I need to calm down, and stop, before I loose control. But unable to find the strength, or patience, to do so.

I hope, for my children's sake, things get better. I've been trying to remember to pray more often. I've kind of lost touch with that lately. And I made a point to have a good family home evening last night. I may have yelled here and there, and got very upset when the twins both pushed their little brother, but I think we still had a good night.

I also found the strength to sit down and do some fun crafts with the boys.




No matter how patient I become I'll always have limits. I guess it's not so bad to learn them. Now, I just need to remember to give myself a time out when I reach them.

Where the Wild Things Are

I don't know if it's monsters or spooks. But this Halloween has found us surrounded by some scary behavior.

I was in a show once where the director gave us this direction, "I want you to look scared like 'I just peed a little' scared."

For some reason or another, my whole household has been scared like that. Perhaps it was the mistake of seeing if the twins would like the movie The Witches-- one of them ran out of the room crying.

Seriously though, the baby peed through his diaper during his morning nap. I had to throw his bedsheets in the washer. But first I had to remove the clothes that cat mistook for her litter box.

One of the twins peed through his clothes on a way home from an outing. Then I got out of the shower to find that the cat had peed in my bra. I held it together up until then, but at that point I wanted to cry.

The whole family had the pee scared out of them, but their doings have been far more scarier for me.

Meet my three little monsters.



At least that's what they have been as of late. Not just to me, but to each other. The twins have learned to get along really well, but they have been fighting more. And their little brother just doesn't stand a chance. He's gotten beaten with a wooden spoon, and had his head pushed repeatedly into a door, by his brothers. I discipline where I can, and cross my finger in hopes it will get better as they get older.

My first little monster is the youngest. He gets his heart broken every time he crashes. Sometimes I can't blame him because he has tripped and fallen into something, and he usually hits his head. But the poor kid is still learning the in's and out's of walking, and to have him break down, and cry, every time he crashes and burns just really eats at the nerves.



The twins have been Hell in a Hand basket-- pardon the expression. Our last two outings have led to me grabbing them and threatening to leave. I stop, tell them they need to behave or else we will go home-- in a very aggravated, slightly loud and very stern tone-- and then I stand up and look around, wondering what people must think of me. I mostly wonder because I could feel I was on the edge of acting reasonably. I probably should have tried a little bit harder to keep it under control.

Our first adventure began at Del Taco. I took the kids, by myself, after a family outing. My husband had to go to work. The twins were screaming, running, jumping, hanging on the ropes meant to keep the line, to order, in check. I tell them over and over to stop, but they don't listen. This is what leads to me just throwing up my arms and saying, "We're done! Lets just go home!"

A nice lady, in line, picked up my crying baby for me-- he had taken another spill while walking around. She said, "I have 5 kids, so I understand."



This encounter was encouraging, but I got slightly discouraged when the Del Taco employee gave me weird looks for paying, for our churros, with pocket change. I just couldn't bear the ride home without them.

We came home, and one of the twins kept yelling something at me.

"Would you stop please! I am so tired of you yelling at me!"

Did I really just say that? I couldn't believe I felt that way. A two year old yelling at me? Doesn't that just sound strange? But it was true. He had been yelling at me all day long, and boy was I tired of it.

Of course, he's a tender heart and he immediately broke down and started to cry. This one, in particular, has been a challenge for me. He gets offended at any little hint of "No" or "Lets not do that". The minute those words, or tones, escape your mouth he breaks down and cries. There's no talking to him either. I just send him to another room, or I go somewhere else while he cools down. He always just reacts. Even when you're trying to help him, but you just don't understand, he gets upset because he thinks you aren't letting him have what he wants.

Today was another venture. We went to a local pumpkin walk, and the kids just got out of control. Whining and crying, complaining and sighing, they sent me over the edge. I grabbed one of them and threatened to just go home.



What's funny is the one that is so good at home-- cleans, listens and helps-- is always the one I'm grabbing and threatening. When we go out he just ignores me and does what he pleases.

One of our kids even wondered off. We had no idea. I heard the employees talking about a lost little boy, and I thought "Oh how sad, I hope they find his parents."

Then they mentioned he was dressed as Superman and my husband turns to me and says, "One of the twins has wondered off." And he went to find him.

How did he get lost? We were right there, watching him play.

My husband said, "I think he was looking for us at least."

I can just picture him running around the gardens yelling, "Mom! Mom!"

Crying his heart out. Just like when he got lost in that maze last weekend. That was another outing. I don't know why I thought he would just stick with his older cousins. It broke my heart.

It's been so discouraging. I almost don't want to take them out, but I know that's how they learn. I just wonder if it's a lack of parenting or if it's just the age and circumstance.

I guess we both need practice. If things don't get better maybe I'll send them to live with monsters on some far away island. Or, perhaps, I'll just got to a far away island.

Just When You Think You Know How to Play the Game. . .

. . .they change the rules!

Do you ever feel like you got this parenting thing down? Like you are super mom and can take on any mess or spill, any tantrum or fit? Your kids are bright shining examples, and everyone praises you left and right.

And then, all of the sudden, it all falls apart.

The twins, for example, would have certain personality traits. One was easy going and could go with the flow. The other really liked his structure and order. One was moody and had a tender heart. The other was independent and liked his space. We would think we had it down. We would tell people which traits belonged to which twin. Then something would happen. Was it a full moon? Perhaps a growth spurt. Maybe subtle changes in the weather. Whatever it was, the next thing we knew the independent one wanted to be held all the time. The tender heart was beating up his brother. And the easy going one would throw a fit at any change of pace.

We felt like we didn't know our kids. Now, you throw into the mix, another child to take the reigns. And that almost makes a whole new game.

You think you have it down. You think you know how kids are. What each stage brings. Then you have the 2nd child-- technically my third, but second pregnancy and second time around. My third has thrown a whole new set of schemes at us. He is very determined and bold. If he doesn't want a bottle he dramatically pushes it away, and gives you a look that seems to say, "How dare you bring me such things!"

He has to clear everything from everything. If I set something on the stairs, he knocks it down. He clears off tables and window sills. He pulls everything out of drawers-- I finally found the culprit behind the disappearance of my chap stick and lotion from my sock drawer. When he's done eating, and upset that you offer him more food instead of getting him down, he does a clean sweep. Knocking everything to the floor.



Today the three ran me through the wringer. I went on a fun outing with my cousin, and her little girl. To a place called Gardener's Village. They put up some fun Halloween witches in October.

Upon arriving, to our destination, my thoughts weren't distraught with how I would handle all three on my own. No, I didn't need to think such things. We have done this before, and all has gone rather well. But like I said, they change the rules.



The twins ran around like wild dogs released from the pound. Its as though they've been stuck inside for 3 weeks, and have forgotten how to act in public-- this may be partially my fault for not getting them out more often. The, normally, obedient twin was defiant and wouldn't listen. This all started when I couldn't make the transit train reappear. He ran all over the place, and didn't even give me a second thought. The other twin ran too, though he was a little bit easier to handle-- he had his moments though.

The baby threw fit after fit because he wanted to be out walking and playing. Not strapped and restrained in a stroller.

This is another one to get used to. During the summer the baby learned how to twist and turn his way out of the stroller. I never had to worry about stuff like that with the twins. All that twisting and turning comes in handy when I'm trying to strap him back in. That kid knows how to wriggle his way free.

Both twins ended up with bloody lips, and the baby kept walking off into crowds, falling on his bum and crawling off somewhere. Three or four times I walked up to strangers wondering who this baby's mother was. Sometimes I wonder if people think it's odd that I let my 1 year old wonder like that.

We headed to McDonalds for lunch. I thought a play place would be the perfect solution, and it was. It just had one flaw. There was no door to keep the children in. If the baby wasn't running out the door he was pulling shoes out of the shoe keep. There was a fun area where my cousin got him to play for a minute. I went to put him in, and next thing I know I turn around and another mother is pulling my crying child out of one of the little cubby holes underneath the steps.

One of the twins climbed way up in the play place, got scared and started calling out, "Mom! Mom!"

I had to talk him down.

Then we went to refill drinks-- I usually bring sippy cups and split a large drink between us all-- the boys kept asking for more and handing me their cups.

I tell them, "I can't refill that cup I can only put water in it."

"I don't want water!" They exclaim

"Well then here." And I hand them the baby's cup, that still had some juice in it.

"No, that's the baby's drink."

My cousin looks at me and says, "Don't you hate it when they start getting smarter and you can't trick them anymore."

It happened again in the car when one wanted a blanket and all I had was the baby's blanket.

"No, that's the baby's blanket. Don't want it!"

Even after all the excitement, of the play place, when we left the twins ran out into the parking lot without a care in the world. Not a single ounce of energy seemed to be sapped from their little bodies. All that running and playing still left them busy and energetic. And not listening to their mother-- I swear they used to do that.



We still enjoyed ourselves on our outing. Even though the rules for outings seemed to have changed, or perhaps I have selective memory.

Each child brings a different kind of joy, a different kind of love, a different personality and a different set of rules. And none of these things come typed up in fancy little How to Raise Me book. I'm slowly learning, and then relearning. That's what this whole parenting adventure is about, right?

Slumps and Ruts are No Match for Good Holiday Fun!

In recent posts I wrote about being sort of caught in a slump, or stuck in a rut. Since then we've been trying to keep ourselves entertained, and active.

One night, unwilling to face the most certain boredom of having to be alone with the kids while my husband went to work, I decided to take a jaunt to the dollar store. The boys got to pick out one thing each to buy. I didn't realize how wonderful the dollar store can be. They really have a lot of great things there. Well, great for someone on a budget-- or someone who is just dirt poor. I mean there were fun Halloween decorations, flash cards and work books and I even found some toy guns for mine and my husbands Halloween Costumes.

We also did some fun projects. We talked about our skeletons while we made skeletons out of paper plates. We even cut little shapes out for the eyes, nose and mouth and had the boys name them.



We also painted these leaves to hang up in the boys' room. We mixed light karo syrup with food coloring and used q-tips to paint it on. Warning: it is very sticky, even after it has dried for a couple days. I got the idea after subbing in a class one day. The teacher did this as an art project. One of the twins found this to be an especially tasty art project. He kept dipping his finger in the yellow. YUM!



For future reference, cut out the leaves first, glue them on paper, then paint.

We have also been enjoying our local canyons.

We drove up one on of our favorites on Sunday.



And today we took a fun walk, on the parkway trail, in the canyon by our house.




We still watch movies, A LOT! But we are getting back into the swing of things, and doing our best to make the most of one of our favorite times of the year!

Strange Brew!

Things sure have gotten strange around here as far as illness' go. It all started when the youngest to a trip to the doctor for a perceived ear infection and he actually had one.

OK, so that doesn't sound so strange, but it was kind of on the weird side for us. The first year with the twins was spent going to the doctor many a times only to hear, "These kids don't look sick. Everything looks good."

I'd swear their coughs sounded awful. I could almost bet you could here congestion in their lungs. One time, one of their ears was even bleeding. But still nothing was wrong-- bleeding ear ended up just being a scratch.

Not that I'm complaining. I just feel a little sheepish taking my kids in all the time for NOT being sick. You think you can trust your instincts.

The twins didn't get actual sick-- like fever, aches, wouldn't eat, etc.-- until they were about 15 months old. So it was unusual when my nine month old was actually sick with an actual ear infection.

The events got even stranger when he had an allergic reaction to the antibiotics. We've never had problems like that. And yet, there it was. A nice red rash all over his body.

Ever since that, infamous, ear infection things have gotten strange around here.

There was the case of the melting eye-- as my husband called it.




Turned out to be allergies, of all things. Just a little Benedryl, and he was all better.

Then there was my morning with Quasimodo.




Same kid, same eye, only this time it was a bug bite. Benedryl still did the trick.

And lets not forget, the lovely abscess. Brought to us by the baby who's ear infection started it all.




I know it's sounds strange, but it's kind of strange to have people confirm that I should be worried about whatever bump, or swelling, my kids have. Most the time I feel like I'm over reacting. Or, I guess, a more proper way to say it is: I don't trust myself enough to not react, but I don't want to over react, but I'm worried if I under react it will be to late-- or things will just have escalated further than they should have.

I guess my biggest issue is I react when I shouldn't. I don't think about all the things that could happen. And, when a real problem occurs, I talk myself into thinking it's not as bad as I think it is. In fact, when it really is a proper time to worry, I'm usually not worried.

How's that for strange?

Luckily even our strangest of illness' have ended up being low key-- with a side of knowing that trip to the doctor was not for naught.

S is for Slacker

Just a side note: Every time I go to write a post lately I try to keep in mind to keep it short, but have failed. Sorry for some of the long winded posts.



If you looked up slacker in the dictionary you may, or may not, find my name there. The boys have lost interest in playing outside, since it's grown colder-- and since we had a week of unending rainstorms. And I have let them stay inside and watch movies all day.

At one of our WIC appointments they asked me, "How much TV do the twins watch a day?"

I really didn't know the answer. I didn't even know what was considered acceptable, so I could fake a good answer.



I just told them, "1-2 hours."

That could be true. I don't know. At least WIC didn't seem to mind.

Usually they wake up, eat breakfast and ask to watch Thomas. . .

I say, "After the news."

They get bored and go play outside or something. Then lunch rolls around. We eat lunch. I change their diapers, and I send them downstairs to watch an hour of TV before their nap-- this is a new thing we've been trying to try and calm them down before nap time.

Sometimes, at night, we watch Baby Nighttime Programs, on channel 9400, or they watch a movie in their room.

I'm really not the greatest at the "limited TV viewing" thing. In fact I always have the TV on, even if I'm not watching it, just to hear some voices.

My children probably do watch too much TV. I usually don't let it bother me because I think we are a very active family. One day might be spent watching TV all day. Then the next we'll leave the house and won't return till bedtime.

I did do good when I purchased a Thomas. . . coloring book. The boys colored in it for days. And show it off with adoration.



But, even so, the Movie watching has eaten at me a little lately.

"I should take them to the park. We should go find some fun Halloween stuff to do. Why am I not motivated to go anywhere?"

And now our baby has a pretty little abscess to get over, which makes going out even harder. I just feel bad because his car seat straps sit right where the abscess is.



My friend had a cute idea for beating the "Stuck in a Rut" woes. She put pumpkins on the wall, 1 for each day of the month. Then she wrote an activity on the back. Everyday her and her daughter pick a pumpkin and do the activity. I thought it was rather creative, and fun!

I, also, usually wouldn't feel bad about the TV viewing because of the lessons we do. But I really haven't done them since August-- that's when I went into party planning mode for my baby's 1st Birthday.

We've just now started to do them again, but I've decided to only do them every other week.

Yes I have been kind of a slacker around here. Trying to get things back in order has been a difficult thing. The change of the seasons always leads to adjustments as well.

Perhaps I'll use my friends idea-- her blog is private, but I wish I could link it.

What's in an Outfit

My husband made fun of me when he came home to find the twins dressed like this.

"What is he wearing!" he exclaimed. And let out a little laugh

"What?" I said, defensively. "He really wanted to were the 'Cars' outfit, but it was too cold for it. I was going to try and change his mind, but he was carrying it around saying, 'Cars!' so excitedly that I felt bad."

I'll admit I'm a sucker for sentiments. When my boys look at something with those extra special eyes, my heart just melts.

Looks like we need to get some long sleeved "Cars" and "Thomas. . ." shirts.

This Is Me!

This is me. A silly, little, Mormon, girl, who writes a cheesy post about one of her favorite country songs. OK, not just favorite country song, but one of my all time favorite songs. One thing that really strikes me is the lyrics. They are so well written. And the way the music makes you just want to get up and do something. . .well it doesn't get any better than that. At least not for me.

Truth be told I really feel I can relate to this song. Who throws themselves into a fire more than me? OK I'm sure I have some competition out there, but you have to admit I seem pretty glutton for punishment at times.

Take my husband and I for example: We had a short dating period, got married in a winter month, are both the youngest in our families and we are the parents of multiples. All of these are usually factors that lead to a higher divorce rate. I guess we just like to beat the odds!

I got pregnant just nine months after having twins. Why? I guess twins just weren't enough of a challenge. As I raise my boys I realize how much I took advantage of with the twins. They were so easy going in so many ways, and, silly me, I just thought that's how babies were. I learned a lot from my youngest child, like not to judge other mothers too harshly and to not judge myself too harshly either. It's amazing how he humbled me and taught me that my mothering skills were still worth something all at the same time.

I don't know why I do the things I do. All my life I've wanted to be strong. I guess I keep throwing myself into the fire to try and prove to myself that I am. For years I felt so weak. People told me my traits were signs of low self esteem and lack of confidence. I never got asked out on a date in high school because I lacked confidence and guys respond to confidence. Me being shy means I have low self esteem and, that I once again, lack in the confidence area. I don't know if I necessarily believe that this is true, but in my search for answers, and approval, they are some of the things that came up.

I personally feel a need to overcome many of my shortcomings. One thing that I really strive to do is to be a woman of my word. I heard that phrase and fell in love with it. I wanted people to use that when they described me. I try hard to make an honest effort to do the things I promise I'll do. I try hard not to say things that are not true. When I compliment I don't lie. Being a "Woman of my word" is a goal that has helped me to achieve a lot. It has even helped me overcome, partially, my fear of confrontation. Have I succeeded? Not entirely. But I still try everyday.

I don't know if I'm strong, a woman of my word, confident or have high self esteem. But I know that I'm a person that generally cares for the well being of her family and others. I like to help whenever I can. And if I offer to help I guarantee I mean it. At times I may get prideful and boastful. It's not what I really mean to do, it's probably more just lack of practice, lack of knowing a better way to phrase things or not thinking how something may sound. Most the time I strive to connect. Make people feel validated. Let people know I can relate. If in fact I can.

Maybe I don't throw myself into the fire so much to prove my strength, but to prove it can be done. To gain a better understanding of trials, so that I may better help others. There's no doubt that my actions aren't completely selfless. But in the end I don't want to just be strong, I want to be strong with a story to tell. A story and a better understanding.

A Lesson From The Farmer and The Cowman

As my husband and I drove up to Ikea for, what we've come to call our "Ikea Dates", I played him one of my favorite Broadway Show tunes Soundtrack: "Oklahoma!" I thoroughly enjoyed listening to Hugh Jackman sing about the Oh so beautiful morning. And I'll admit some of the songs had me envisioning some fun Hoedown choreography in my head. But my favorite part was hearing this line:

"I don't say I'm no better than anybody else, But I'll be damned if I ain't jist as good!" --Eller, Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Oklahoma!"

I just thought that was perfect! Sometimes I get down on myself because I feel I'm too annoying, maybe a bit too preachy, maybe to quick to spill unwanted advice, etc. But then I think, "I may do some annoying and irritating things, but so does everybody else, and if I can forgive them well they can forgive me!"

As a mother especially I feel inadequate at times. Heck, the whole month of August I coasted by. I didn't really take time to enjoy with my kids. I mostly yelled at them. My patience was so lost I couldn't even tone it down when I was outside for all to hear. There were many stressors associated with this month. One of them being my baby boy's first birthday.

I like to have a huge party for their first birthday and his was no exception. We threw a fun Cowboy party that I have been planning since he was born. Of course, all that planning didn't help much when a shed in our backyard didn't get moved until the day of the party. This left me a little frazzled, still trying to set up at 6:00-- when the guests arrived-- and having a short temper with my husband. Luckily my aunt and uncle showed up early, in hopes of going to the local art museum which was closed, and helped as set up a lot. All the guests were calm and patient. And I calmed down once we finally got the food all set out.



The sad thing is, after all was said and done, I was looking forward to finally having my patience restored. Finally, I wouldn't have to obsess over every little mess being made. Finally that shed wouldn't be digging into my nerves. Instead, I got some sort of stomach bug and spent the next day ill. I barely paid attention to my kids, and only lifted a finger to put them down for a nap.

I don't think I'll be getting any gold stars for motherhood this month. But my head is still in the game, and I'm still doing the best that I can. Sometimes I wish I could handle things in a much calmer and sweeter way, like so many other mothers I see. Sometimes I feel I let my kids get away with too much and don't try hard enough to teach them. Other times I worry about what psychological problems I may be causing them, and if these will later cause their wives incredible grief. And on my good days I just try to enjoy my sweet little princes, do my best to teach them to be gentlemen and protectors and try to look for the skills I've been given that will allow me to raise these boys to be good husbands and fathers.

I'm not the best that's for sure! But hopefully I fall somewhere around being ". . .jist as good."

My Edumacation

I'm not the brightest crayon in the box. I mean my mind has a way of wrapping itself around thoughts and ideas, but I am sort of lacking. I haven't done much with college or a career. I have plans to, that I'm hoping will work out, but that is yet to happen. I guess you could say I'm just sort of good at a lot of things. I'm sort of good at art. I'm sort of good at the piano. I'm sort of good at dance. I'm sort of. . .well you get the idea. But I've realized, even though I lack in specialized skills, the skills I do have can help with a lot of things.

Like for example: my art skills. I quit art because I wasn't good enough. I'd see great painters and drawers, and I knew my skills could never compete. But later on I learned my skills were good enough to help in the classrooms I worked in. By drawing a picture of a panda bear, I could make a kids day.

Or I could bring a smile to my nephews face by making an awesome horse head for his pioneer parade-- he even asked for it to be a girl and named her after me.



When all is said and done that's good enough for me.

Another example: my singing skills. I love to sing. I mean "rearrange my front room to resemble a Broadway stage and belt out the tunes" LOVE to sing. But singing in front of people is not so much my forte. However singing lullabies to my children is one of my favorite things to do with my skills.

And even though I lack, in higher education, what I learned in elementary, and what I learned about teaching kids while working in classrooms, has helped me to create fun lessons for my kids.

So "lessons" isn't my favorite word because it just sounds too official. But basically every other day we sit down for an hour to an hour and a half and work on reading, science, history, etc. My basic schedule-- you know me I have to have a schedule-- goes like this:

Monday- History and Reading: We rotate history every month. So one month we'll talk about state history, the next month United States History and the next month global history. Then we start over with state. History is one of my favorite subjects and I love teaching it to my boys. Even though all they really care about is the coloring page, it's still fun-- well one little boy has a loving adoration for the American Flag which is rather sweet, so I guess it's rubbing off a little. For reading I work on letters and letter sounds. I also work on spelling their names. I would rather start with colors as opposed to letters, but I haven't put that together just yet. Usually on reading days I'll read them a story too.

Wednesday-- Science and Math: I really hadn't thought these two subjects out very well. They are my least favorite after all. I decided to do a rotation for science though. Right now we're talking about the Earth and next month we'll change the subject to something else like animals or space. For math we are working on numbers and counting. And sometimes shapes.

Friday-- Music and Art: My two most favorite subjects. I really have a strong opinion on how these two things can influence us in so many ways, for better or worse. They are probably the closest I've come to having a true passion in life-- aside from being a mother that is. We talk about composers and artists. We sing songs and listen to different music. Sometimes we color or paint. Some days we'll go outside and draw with sidewalk chalk. It's really laid back and fun.

My kids are all pretty young but they still pick up a few good things from these activities. I think the most important thing is the structure it brings. I've noticed they're a bit better behaved when we do these lessons consistently-- which I really haven't been very good at, but I am getting better!

I also babysit my nephew so he benefits from these lessons from time to time. I have to tell you it can be a frustrating route. It's been this way ever since I started helping him with his Kindergarten homework everyday. He just gets nervous and freezes up. He tries to make up answers instead of drawing from what he knows. I try my best to stay positive, but heaven knows I've lost my temper more than once-- and that doesn't help anyone.

Though I've been a strong supporter of the arts, in education, my whole life I never realized how beneficial they really are. After a frustrating week, of trying to work with my nephew on basic things, we were able to calmly enjoy a lesson on arts and music. There was no stress, there were no wrong answers and he was able to enjoy himself while getting the satisfaction of knowing he did a good job. I think that really helped to boost his confidence. It was something he could do, and do well, and that was a really good thing for him to learn-- and for me too.

I'm not the best at having these "lessons" all the time. And the main reason for them is just so I make the time to teach my kids. I'm terrible at reading bedtime stories and just taking a "time out" from cleaning to impart a little wisdom. But I know if I set aside a day and a time I'll have a better chance of getting it done.

Of course, even getting these lessons down doesn't have all my bases covered. I would also like to teach the boys about our faith and religion. I thought about squeezing it in with Music and Art, but then I realized our church already has a good system set up for teaching our children about these very things. I just needed to start doing it. Our church likes it's members to set aside time on Monday evenings for family time. We call it "Family Home Evening". Usually we have a prayer, a song, a scripture, a lesson and a treat. We decided to start making the extra effort to hold Family Home Evenings in our home.

This week we had a fun lesson where we learned about our first prophet, Joseph Smith. I left clues around the house, yard and park to help us learn about how Joseph Smith restored the Gospel to the Earth. The first clue led us to the boys room where we found scriptures. We read James 1:5 and then we were instructed to go outside and find the next clue. Each clue talked about the different things Joseph experienced while he was searching for a church to join.






Our Family Home Evenings also have a little history lesson tied into them. My husband and I decided to learn about the different counties in Utah. Our plan is to pick a county, learn about it and then take a trip there to see the sites. Unfortunately, without a set time to learn about said counties, we've been stuck on the same one all summer. We'll make it work someday. I decided our FHE history lessons could rotate with our "lesson" history lessons, so right now we're talking about the United States-- but, believe you me, when we get back to state history we are going to learn all we can about that county.

My skills aren't much. But, in the end, they help my family learn and grow. And that is all they really need to do. It would be nice if they could help me bring in some sort of an income. But the smiles on my kids faces is priceless! So I'll take what money can't buy.

Silly Complex's

Motherhood brings on a lot of unexpected things. I think some of the most unexpected things for me are those silly little thoughts and complex's. What's most interesting is, when faced with certain situations, you feel things that you never dreamed you would. For example when we were faced with unemployment a couple Christmas' ago, and needed insurance because of our upcoming bundle of joy, we talked about my husband enlisting in the army. I, of course, felt the expected things like nerves, being anxious and wondering if I could handle being an Army Wife. But, along with that, came a feeling that people might think I was selfish to risk my husbands life just so we could have money and benefits. I don't know why I felt that way. I certainly don't think that of any woman I know who's husband has joined the army. I mostly just admire them and their strength. But still I felt it, and I never expected it.

I can't say I ever expected wanting to be pregnant-- and I mean ever. Nor did I expect wanting another baby so soon after having twins. But here I am with three kids, 18 months apart. It's not something I would recommend, but I have to say I personally like it.

Now that I have been pregnant it's hard to go back to those days of simply having a monthly cycle. Now so many mixed emotions have to come with my monthly gift. Even now, when I may be on my way to thinking of another baby but certainly not ready for another pregnancy, I find every month I'm anxious to know if that lovely thing will show it's face. It doesn't help that the symptoms are the same. I get moody, thirsty, my chest swells a little, tired, etc. These signs show their face and I start calculating when my last period was. I'm usually a week away. Then the tension starts.

"Is it going to come? Do I want it to come? Will I be happy or sad if it comes?" These are the questions I always ask myself.

Usually it's right on time. I can handle that. I know it isn't our time to be pregnant and I'm OK with that. But then there are the months that it's a little late.

"Just take a test," my husband says.

I hate taking the tests. I don't like to take them unless I'm 95% sure they will say yes. I don't know why. I'm really not ready for another pregnancy. But even so, it's the same now as it was right after I had the last one, I don't like to see the negative result on that test.

This happened this month. I finally decided to take the test. I was pretty late. Seconds after the test read negative my monthly gift showed up. I mean really. Does taking the test somehow trigger it? Not only did I waste the money, but I wasted emotional stress.

Sometimes I wonder if I feel this way because my moodiness and tiredness being linked to bringing another miracle in this world would at least bring about a greater sense of worth.

It's bad enough that each month I have to face the fact that my emotional outbursts have no merit, but I've also been struggling with being a little backed up lately and this brings on another whole set of fun complex's. Realization of this problem came about when it got so severe one morning I visited the emergency room. Ever since I've really had to watch my diet and try to take in a lot of fiber. The problem is no fun, and one of the most embarrassing things I've had to deal with yet. But that's not the worst part. Along with it comes nausea, aches in my hips and back, hot flashes and movements in my tummy. This makes the problem itself much more difficult to face. Feeling pregnant is so much easier to handle when it's about bringing a child into the world-- not about being unable to go to the bathroom.

Another complex I'm facing lately might seem a little strange to some. I have three beautiful boys. And I mean beautiful. I know this sounds like bragging but my motherly adoration's have been confirmed on several occasions. My OB commented on the twins all the time. He even said they could date his daughter. All of my boys have been mistaken for girls on several occasions. And I get told a lot that they should be in a magazine.

My youngest one in particular is one of the most beautiful babies you've ever seen. I used to look at him when he was a newborn and just think, "You are so nice to look at. I could just look at you for hours."

He has fair skin, blue eyes and blonde hair. He gets mistaken for a girl even more than his brothers did. The problem with this is that he was supposed to be my girl. When I got pregnant with him I just knew I was going to have a girl. OK maybe I didn't know it would be a girl, but another boy just didn't sound right. When I found out he was a boy my heart dropped. Not simply because he was a boy, but because I felt I had lost my girl. When we finally met him last September I just looked at him and thought, "I'm glad you're here. And I'm glad you're not a girl, but it was just so hard to get you here. Couldn't you have brought a sister with you?"



I don't spend my days wishing he was a girl. There were very colicky times when I may have wished I hadn't had that crazy idea to get pregnant. But I honestly don't wish him to be a girl. But still when he's mistaken for one my heart sinks a little. Here these people think I have two boys and a girl when really I don't know what it's like to have a girl at all. To them I do, but I know I don't.

Sometimes I look at him and say, "You're just too pretty to be a boy."

I get a little sad again. Sometimes I find it hard to look at him. I know that sounds crazy but it's true. I guess it just reminds me that, pretty as he is, I still don't have a daughter and I may never have one.

We've had a rocky road this baby and I. When we first met I wasn't sure if he wanted to be a part of our family. We struggled through the first 3 months. Both hoping things would get better. I let his Dad take on a lot because I just didn't have the patience I needed for him. He wanted constant attention. He always wanted to be held, couldn't be left in a room alone and just seemed really needy compared to his brothers. I'm just not that type of mother. I like kids that can entertain themselves. That can be content while I get a little work done. I play with my kids, but we can all enjoy it more if I'm not thinking about all the stuff I need to get done. When we came out of the colicky and indigestion haze I found I had a son who was completely enthralled with his mother. How this happened? I do not know. But I'm glad because it helps me feel that I wasn't so terrible to him. Maybe there were moments of love and happiness. He some how came to feel safe and content with me amid all the screaming and crying. And that brings a little comfort to me.

I love all my boys. Most days I'm perfectly happy raising three gentlemen. Even if sometimes my silly little complex's say otherwise. I can't ignore them. It's probably not a good idea to smother them. I guess all I can do is just acknowledge them and try to figure out how I really feel.

Nursery Days

Our church has a nursery that the little kids enter when they are 18 months old. The kids play in there while the parents go to their other meetings. It sounds lovely right?22 Well, getting my kids to go to nursery was a huge trial. I cried over it several times. Almost every week I'd come home saying, "I'm not doing this anymore. They can just come to the meetings with me." I guess my situation was a bit more exhausting considering my husbands work schedule has him gone every Sunday. But still the transition to nursery is not a fun thing.



Growing up in the church I had known about the chaos that could ensue when children were first left alone in nursery or primary. The general rule, that my family always agreed worked best, was to just leave the kid crying or not. Chances are as soon as you left, the kid would calm down and all would be well.

This rule has worked well for me with babysitters. I just tell the sitters the plan, make sure they are OK with the idea and then execute. I usually come back to find all was well.

Well, this rule didn't work well with nursery. The boys would cry and cry until they finally came and got us.

The leaders told me that I needed to sit in nursery with them until they got more comfortable in there. I didn't like this idea. If I'm going to be in nursery than give me a nursery calling. I mostly didn't like it because I didn't know what the boundaries were. Should I help my kids? Is that what the leaders want? In my mind, having worked as an aide at a school, I'd prefer the parents to stand back and let me handle it. That way the kid learns to respond to me and not just the parents. But what if the leaders didn't agree. I also didn't know if I should just be a fly on the wall or if I should help with the other kids. The whole thing was a raging conflict that left me exhausted every week. This sort of thing is especially hard for a person obsessed with doing things the right way all the time, like me.



I tried to ask friends what they would recommend, or what they think was expected and they didn't know either. I told my mom about my frustrations and she said in so many words, "As long as you're in there with them they aren't going to learn to adjust. You need to be out of the room in order for them to get used to it. Otherwise you're going to be stuck in there." I agreed. But leaving them wasn't working. The leaders tried to find times for me to just sneak out. But this just added to the boys insecurities. Every time the door opened they would quickly scan the room. Sometimes I'd sit outside the room, in case there was a problem, and every time the door opened my boys would just cry. The sound of the door opening had become a trigger to them. It seemed to make them feel scared and it definitely upset them. I felt overwhelmed, exhausted and out of my league. I couldn't solve this problem.



Then one Sunday a neighbor put a thought into my head. She said that they would go in and sit with their kids and instead of sneaking out they would tell the child they were leaving, assure them they would be back and then they would walk out. This sounded like it could work. So I tried it. It didn't work great, but it worked better.

I then decided what we needed was a good routine. After all the solution to all other chaotic things in our lives was schedules and routines. Well if anything was chaotic nursery was. I would bound up the stairs, dragging the twins while holding a baby, a car seat and a diaper bag. I would them try to free one hand to open the door and shove the twins in. Binkies, toys, blankies? I didn't have time to check to see if they still had these in hand. Obviously this was part of our problem.

So I came up with a plan. First we would walk up to nursery calmly. We'd set our stuff down. I'd ask the twins to put their toys, blankies and binkies away. I would then talk to them about all the fun they would have in nursery and I would assure them I would be back to pick them up. Well we tried it one week. And it worked. I just had to talk to them until they were ready to walk in themselves. They did wonderfully in nursery. I was so happy and proud of my boys!

Of course, not all problems are solved. There were still weeks they wouldn't go. The leaders and others would try to help. But this would only make it worse. The boys would get nervous because they would think they were being forced to do something they didn't want to do. The leaders would ask me to come in with them, but I just thought, "I'm not stepping foot in that room again. I appreciate you trying to help but please just let me can handle this."

I'd shy off to a corner and try to talk to them and calm them down. When that didn't work I'd take them to class with me. I wouldn't give them snacks or toys-- they had to go to nursery to get those. And I would make them simply sit there and they weren't allowed to move. Everyone was impressed with how well behaved my children were. Little did they know I was actually upset with them. Finally they would get bored and then I could convince them to go to nursery.

Now the boys walk into nursery no problem. I can't always get their binkies away from them, but I don't complain. I'm glad we found our own little solution. I don't know why I expected anything else from my children. After all they have a defiant mother who doesn't like to be forced into things. The decision had to be there's. Thank goodness we figured that out. I think this will be a great stepping stone for all of us.