Wednesday, June 29, 2011

There they go.

One of Scrunch's favorite and most frequent saying is, "I'm growing uup. Riiight no-ow!"

I don't know where she got it or how it started, but she is right.

Porkchop took three steps today and then later while changing his diaper Scrunch asked me why he had "that special type of bum." Oy. I am not ready for this.

The subject of their growing up is one I'm consistently conflicted about. When I got a call last Tuesday afternoon that we would have unexpected company we hardly ever see for the rest of the week and through the weekend, we made it our mission to pack the days full of fun. It was so exhausting I had to escape to work for two days just to get a break!

Friday evening on our way out of the Yosemite valley I mentioned to John how much fun these types of outings were going to be when our kids weren't as much work anymore. Like when they both could walk more than ten paces and faster than the snails.

For every mess I pick up, three more are made. You can kiss matching lids to any Tupperware good bye! And when Porkchop took his diaper off in the kitchen for the third time, I left it off. Not three minutes later he crapped in the family room, I think just because he could. Who knew parenting would involve so much cleaning up of poop?! There are days my body physically aches with exhaustion. Please no one jump on me again, climb on me, in fact, I love you, but could everyone just stop touching me for three seconds?!

These are not complains, it the reality of parenting everyone just kind of glosses over. And sometimes how I feel about it is conflicting. So often we are sent conflicting messages.

"...the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three on them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4, and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in a hurry to get on to the next things: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less." 
 Anna Quindlen

I read this and it pulls at me. I am terrible at this and so I make an effort to take notice a little more. Slow  down. It's not going to kill me. If I slow down I am not going to stop, right? So I try it, and realize there is a trick to it. It is all about timing.

11:28 am. Porkchop is screaming like a banchee because he thinks I should automatically hand him my phone when it rings. Scrunch is ironically whining that she, "can't stand all this whining!" Both kids need a bath. They ate cottage cheese and berries for breakfast as evidenced by the kitchen floor the dogs are racing to clean up. Porkchop smells like poopy diaper and stale graham crackers. Scrunch's hair is greasy from slathering Eucerin cream through it for the umpteenth time.

Bag it! This isn't working!

12:16pm. Scrunch is singing in the shower. I hear her talk to her imaginary friend Charlie about making good choices or bad choices. Porkchop is climbing all over me in the recliner in a super ticklish mood. He is trying to tickle me with his chubby fingers but can't catch his breath he's laughing too hard. His laugh sounds less and less like a baby and more like a little boy. His little face is looking less and less like a baby and more like a little boy. He stand on my lap and kisses my shoulder three times and this time without biting me a single time.

Here is the trick. Not every parenting moment is noteworthy. Everyone might say it's the most rewarding job you'll ever do, and while true, it may be days between your feeling like it. The catch is that the reward to the scouring of so much poop and ignoring the whining comes in tiny little slivers. So small you'll miss them if you're not careful. Little moments you'd trade your whole life for.

I know it's true because I almost cried picturing Scrunch holding her thumb out like this in a few years trying to catch the bus. Not out hiking with her Mom and Papa in Yosemite, but on her way to who knows where and heaven for bid to meet some boy.






Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Details, shmee-tails!

The proof, is as they say, in the puddin'.

I don't know what that means, really. In truth, I don't know much of anything these days. Ellie put it best when she said, "Awww..... Heavenly Father and that wacky plan of His!!!"

Because that is what we believe. That there is a plan. A map. Some people get the GoogleMaps printed out version and some of us get the weird elevation ones I hold upside down until my Eagle Scout husband comes along to point it out. Our job is to make enough good and seemingly accurate choices to stay on route. Sometimes you veer off and take an alternate route with other lumps and bumps, but so long as the destination is the same, it doesn't matter. Well, it matters. But not really. Follow?

I was at Megan's house when the subject of child spacing or a topic close to it came up. It was at her dining table amidst three Cricuts and a bunch of ribbon that I was able to put in to words my conundrum. Even after almost five years of infertility, an adoption, and then a pregnancy, I am a fan of childspacing! Or was.

"See..we want more kids, but I don't necessarily want one right this very second. But if we don't at least try...well...it might take us a while." We needed to at least try, because without my crystal ball, I didn't know what that would mean. Would we need to show enough of an effort that an OB would even talk to us about fertility treatments? Or save our pennies for another adoption? Or do we accept that we have to awesome kids already and call it good? But then the kicker...

"Honestly. I'm scared. (This is where the tears came.) Before my kids I thought that infertility would be the greatest trial I would face. But then...The leading up to and bringing home of Scrunch pushed me to my emotional edge. And then Porkchop...well, that pushed me even further and took me to my physical and emotional edge. So, I'm scared. Because honestly, I know we're not going to get off easy. I feel like all of it has been to prepare us for what is to come."

The truth of what I had just said settled into silence.

I came home and told my husband what the evening's conversation had brought on.

"You know what I want? What I really want? I want to be ready enough to say to Heavenly Father, 'Can't I just get knocked up and have a kid the normal way? I want this to be easy, for the love! Is that so wrong?"

And here I am. For now. I still don't know what it means though. Will this be easy peasy or am I going to be walking a new edge?

Time will tell.


That one. I know what that one means. It means 'wait and see'. And really, when all is said and done, none of us get out of this thing alive. And the edge isn't so bad anyway. I'm getting kind of used to it. Almost maybe even like the idea. You get a whole new perspective and to see some amazing things when you're standing on the edge. And it's not like I'd be doing any of it alone.









If you're waiting for me to say, "I am preggo." Well, you can keep waiting. I would never say that. I detest the word 'preggo'. A lot like Eggo and Lego, but doesn't mean anything. But yes, I am pregnant. It is early, really early. And I know the stats. At this stage in the game, they are no bueno, but we wait and see. I decided to say something because well, I have a big mouth and even if there was a miscarriage, I would write about that too. I would be due in February. The plan is for another home birth. They don't see repeat clients until late, late the first trimester. I didn't want an appt. until there would be no doubt we should hear a heartbeat. Yes, I will have an ultrasound, but no I will not be finding out the sex. Oh, and if you thought that my news a few days ago was this, you're mistaken. I still have MORE news to share on the fourth of July!

Monday, June 20, 2011

Bueno y No Bueno

That our hangouts occur only once a year. No Bueno.
That it occurred yesterday on my back patio. Muy Bueno.




Not everyone LOVING my funky embroidered shirt. No Bueno.
That it cost me three bucks at Goodwill and Holly liked it. Muy Bueno.

Sewing seven yards of piping. No Bueno.
Finally ordering the fabrics for my outdoor cushions. Muy Bueno.


Waiting for my fabrics to arrive. No Bueno.
Having a cushy spot to read before a turn into a slug and lounge the rest of the summer. Muy Bueno.


Not enough time to read this weekend. No Bueno.
Listening to Tina Fey narrate Boyssypants. Muy Bueno.

My husband being gone for days at a time. No Bueno.
That he has such a good time while he's gone. Muy Bueno.




That he can't be trusted to take pictures to document his trip. No Bueno.
That Tommy can. Muy Bueno.

Having the biggest mouth Ever!!! An innate and seemingly genetic incapability to keep my trap shut! No Bueno.
The secrets I divulge are mostly my own. Muy Bueno.

Waking up nauseated. No Bueno.
That one of my kids will be sharing a room come February. Muy, muy bueno.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

D-Day!

When I ripped out the carpet without much warning, a few days later my, um... spontaneity??? came up.

"How many men to you know who wouldn't freak that their wives just RIPPED OUT THE CARPET!!?"

I think he must have been negotiating points for a hiking trip. And he didn't freak, by the way. I think his only comment when he walked in that day was, "It looks like you've been busy." Scrunch was the one all worked up and screaming "Mommy ripped out the carpet!!!!!"

"Well...At least two others."

"No you don't"

"Yes, I do."

"No way."

"Yes way." (Oops, I just realized where Scrunch got saying that.)

"Who?"

"My dad. And Jordan (my brother in law)."

Silence.

It's true.

Thanks Dad for setting the precedent! For so many things, but especially in setting the example in the (patient/kind/but especially patient) type of men we'd marry someday! Even if that day came sooner than you would have ever liked.


Happy Father's Day!


Saturday, June 18, 2011

List-mania and some other randomness

  • I have Awesome!! Make My Week! kind of news. But it's not mine to share. And you know it's killing me. But...it's not mine to share. Instead, how bout if we cut a deal. I will make a list of those things I need to get accomplished over the next two weeks and then, whether the news is divulged in another way (in a comment here, a text, or FB) or not, I will spill the beans on the Fourth of July so long as I've accomplished everything on my list. That is my deal.
    • Finish the family room floor
    • Finish the dining and kitchen areas
    • Caulk and paint the builtin
    • Paint the fireplace and mantle
    • Clean the garage
    • Paint Scrunch's room
    • Built the barrel planters
    • Plant pumpkins
  • I am going to be the one benefiting from this little deal, but it  also serves as a little motivation. Because after I finish this round of projects I'm going on Summer vacation. While I'm at it, I've devised my Summer Reading List. None of them listed are Earth shattering and I know almost nothing about any of these books.
Bossypants
Modoc
Back When We Were GrownUps
The Birth House
The Tailor's Daughter
Sarah's Key
The Red Tent

Realistically, by the time I finish my lists, it will be time to start the Christmas shopping list. Still...well, what's another list anyway?
  • I wish I had more energy, more time, more people I liked. I keep having ideas for a Book Club/Party to discuss (laugh) about Bossypants and another one for a weekly craft day called Christmas in July where we work on all our Christmas crafting and preparations in July, but...well, I don't know who I'd invite or if people would come. I've decided that making, keeping, and continuing to like chick friends is worse than dating. And not like I have any experience to speak of when it comes to the single scene. I married my second boyfriend almost a decade ago. Will she call? Am I a good enough housekeeper? Cook? Did she have a good time? Will she be offended? Do our kids get along? Maybe she doesn't think skinny jeans are my thing...blah, blah, blah. Worse than dating!
  • Mickey Mouse and all things Walt are right up there with baseball and apple pie. You just have to be okay with them. It's just the way it is. My Dad working for Disney and The Mouse might also have something to do with the contents of the most recent package to arrive on my doorstep. Holy freaken' cute!


  • I would love to have more pictures of them sunning on the beach, but I was trying to keep them both from drowning. Neither one of them have ANY fear of the water. A little fear might be appreciated by their Mom. Instead Scrunch was trying to swim out to the dock and Porkchop walking like a crab right out into the water to blow bubbles. It pleases me to no end that they like going to the lake as much as I like taking them. 



  • Papa is gone hiking and I'm terrible at the bedtime routine. My very efficient cop out was to make a pajama run to The Depot (o.k. AND Lowes) and have them fall asleep in the car on the way home. 
    • I don't understand the three piece pajamas from Carter's. Why just the three? They don't ever just pee on one piece of clothing? If they wanted an odd number, five would have made more sense. Who am I to judge? I take babies in their pajamas and past their bedtime to Home Depot to buy yet another gallon of paint. Oh, and I wish Costco would buy the same shopping carts they have at Lowe's. They have the BEST shopping carts!

    Friday, June 17, 2011

    Better Late Than Never!

    Porkchop had a birthday last month. He just wanted to say...


    He also says...

    Ma-ma!!
    U-up!!
    Map-map (Papa)
    Kaka for his sister
    Go! (mostly to the dogs and when we play Ready, Set, Go! with his sister)
    Ga-ga (Grami)
    Cracker
    Baba the universal word for the Baba.
    and Tanks for thanks.

    But this post isn't about him. It's about you! His ever loving Peeps who hooked him up with the generous birthday gift cards enabling mom to then purchase the "Emergency Room Here We Come! (Please Let it Only Be An Arm and Not a Head and One of My Heads and Not the Neighbors Kids') When We Jump Off and Think We Can Fly, Which Also Doubles as a Pirate Ship/Playhouse/Jungle Gym Contraption". Pictured above. 

    Yes, thanks for that.

    Wednesday, June 15, 2011

    Hopping

    Porkchop went to bed and Scrunch went with her Papa for a walk. For the first time since I woke up this morning, it is quiet. I thought I'd go wash the dishes, but thankfully got distracted instead.

    I laid on Scrunch's bed in front of the fan and remembered a woman whose blog I hadn't read in a few years. I Googled to check up on her. The short version is that after years of infertility they chose to adopt. The were chosen by a birthmom when they then found out they were pregnant with twins. The birthmom opted not to place with them. They lost both their twins at birth due to complications. A few years went by. Again they were chosen to adopt a son. Ten days later they found out she was pregnant. They are now happily raising two boys who are four months apart.

    After a couple of blog hops I landed on another blog of a woman who writes about being a widow in her twenties after only five years of marriage.

    I had to stop hopping because now I was crying and Scrunch and her Papa are due to be home soon. Tears would unleash a torrent of "Whys?" from my three year old bug, and without an adequate explanation she won't be going to bed any time soon.

    Even though the circumstances were tragic and (from what I read) they were blunt and honest in their feelings and frustrations, they were also filled with faith. I don't know how, and tons more of it than I've got. Not the Sunday School answer type, but a true understanding, an acceptance that there is a Plan and a Heavenly Father who loves us.

    A good reminder.

    Not bad for havin' nothin' to do on a Wednesday night.

    Tuesday, June 14, 2011

    Porkchop's Room Makeover

    Today shall be known as National Hug a Cement Worker Day. Because Holy Shmoly! It's harder than it looks!!

    After three days on hands and knees with the paint stripper, we decided that we should just float a skim coat. Whatever that means... I don't float. Not much about this little project has 'floated'. Thanks to my schizophrenic house makeover there isn't a single room in my house that is "done" at the moment. It was starting to make me c.r.a.z.y. Yes. Starting.

    ahem... So...

    In an effort to not lose It or my Husband, I needed to finish a room. Just one room, for Pete's sake! We don't have a Pete so I went with the closest thing we had. For Porkchop's sake! And mine. I finished his room. For now.

    And all for a whopping total of... something like $38.00. This includes the paint. Two gallons of oops paint mixed together!

    The lighting and the flash are terrible! A little too Dr. Seuss-ish. Someday I'll learn what it means to shoot in manual mode. Until then, lets just say it's halfway between blue and gray, a bunch of other colors, and call it good.

    Ask me how ticked I was when it rained ALL OVER my You Are My Sunshine canvas when I put it on the porch to dry. It doesn't usually rain in June around here. Dad built the crib. The rug was from the family room. The chair I found on the side of the road a few years ago, and the shelf used to be in Scrunch's room. Other than that, this room was completely bare bones. Not bad for THIRTY EIGHT DOLLARS AND THIRTY FOUR CENTS!!











    Sunday, June 12, 2011

    Blog Dump

    There are no pictures because I am being lazy, the camera is in Porkchop's room, and there is no way I'm going in there to risk waking up that teething little monkey so you can get a cute kid pic fix. Plus, I'm still kind of getting back at my sister for texting, "I posted pics of Ezra." When you're 35 weeks pregnant you just don't do that without some sort of explanation!

    Instead, this is my blog dump... A catch all for what's occurred since I blogged last. You'll thank me for sparing you the details of the other dump I dealt with today. Let's just say we didn't make it church and Scrunch exclaimed, "That's the yuckiest poop I've have. ever. seen!" Her commentary lately has been classic.

    Thursday we went to the zoo. After we badgered the poor girl at the gate about the "pictures" on her arms with "why?" "why?" "why?" and then a "you shouldn't color on your arms" we went in just in time for feeding time in the reptile house. She was completely un-phased by the python strangling and swallowing whole the giant rat. She told a family that we ate squirrels. When I told her no we didn't, "It's okay mom." Turns to them, "Yeah, we do." I told her not to throw the bait in the water when Grandpa Webb took her crawdad fishing. She told me, "I'm not going to give up." I figured I better, and let her do it. Tonight she asked Papa if I could sleep in her bed. The answer was no with an explanation that I had to sleep in Papa's bed. Why do you always sleep in Papa's bed? Because we're married. Then her eyes got huge, she got visibly excited, "Oh Mommy!! Did you get like a Princess?" She only went to sleep after I promised to show her pictures of Mommy dressed like a princess tomorrow. I'm going to have to dig up my wedding pictures.

    Prior to the zoo we went to lunch with Katie and a bunch of FSA friends. Considering we live in separate states I'd say we're doing pretty well on the once a month lunch dates. Sitting at the table with these women, most of them whom I've watched become moms, it was kind of surreal to realize how much kids change things, in a good way. It was a strange and bittersweet realization that 1) I really do want more kids, 2) I am lucky and blessed to have the two I've got,and 3) it's just not that easy.

    Friday was opening day at the lake. The lake makes me realize how much I love my life and where I live (even if my family room is nowhere near being finished). I also realized that if I'm going to have any luck keeping an eye on Scrunch this summer, I need to put in her in something other than a pink or purple bathing suit. This has since been remedied. Oh, and thanks to Megan I have pics of part of their fun...



    Saturday morning I went to a sealing. There is nothing as spiritual and special as a parent child sealing. I cried like a baby. It was beautiful.

    The highlight of Saturday afternoon was going crawdad fishing with Grandpa Webb and Scrunch discovered eclairs. She also let me sleep with her almost life sized Ariel doll from Aunt E, and BOTH her Little Mermaid and Tinkerbell towels. We can thank Husband and his phone for these...




    Today I took A Day of Rest literally and geared up for the rest of week. I don't know what for. I hope to spend most of it knitting at the lake. And so do the kids.

    Thursday, June 9, 2011

    The Playroom is next...

    Is this not the perfect fabric for my 'The Hills are Alive' and 'So Long Fairwell!" singing kids?

    Wednesday, June 8, 2011

    Tuesday, June 7, 2011

    I just don't know what I'm going to do with her!

    While I've been channeling Daniel Larusso, a la Karate Kid, with my wax on wax off motion of the steel wool on the family room floors, Scrunch has been channeling her own favorite character.

    Poor Little Mermaid's hair is proof a dingle-hopper just isn't going to cut it.





    When I went to clean her room I discovered this little treasure trove of wonders untold inside a paper lantern under her bed. When I asked her about it she responded with, "It's my collection!"



    Ah, your collection!


    Little Mermaid does not knit. I could be wrong. Maybe in Little Mermaid XVI she teaches her great-great grand daughter how to knit before she turns back into a human, or was it a mermaid? Until that happens, I'd like all my double pointed needles back.

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