Señora in the Moon

I have to say that I consider myself pretty lucky as far as husbands go. Mine never asks to go out to the bar with the boys, he doesn't go hunting, or off to sports games, leaving me at home to take care of the kids. As long as we've been together, if he is not at work, he is at home, with me. 

His hobby is playing video games, which, as nice as it is having him consistently be just down the hall, I admit that I do at times feel like I'm married to a teenage boy. Aside from Mario Brothers 2, I've never understood the allure of video games or how they are entertaining enough to play for hours on end. 

Husband has always been good about making time for me though. Clearly, we had three children in four years. But we think it's important that our relationship be a priority, and so we try to get alone time together whenever we can. Our main activities though, were watching movies on Netflix, and making babies.

Until now.

     So baby, I think we need to do some kind of an activity together. You know, 
     join a class like mountain climbing or cage fighting, or something. I'm open.

    ....That's really not my thing. Plus, I'm pretty sure this is just those two glasses
     of wine you had talking.

     No, no, I'm for real. I want to spend more time with you, and I think it would 
     be good for us to try something new. Ok, so it doesn't have to be self defense, 
     what if we...learned a foreign language together? 

That sounded much more my style. Learning a new language with my husband? I imagined us out for a romantic dinner, gazing into each other's eyes, speaking in some romantic tongue like Italian, or French, or maybe even Hebrew. Something different and exotic. Yes, very romantic. I was on board.

I pulled up the Rosetta Stone website, and Husband and I began going over their list of languages offered. 

     Now, we could do French, that's a very lovely, romantic language. Or, we could
     take Italian, since we want to go to Italy someday, and I can't think of anything
     more romantic than walking through the streets of Italy, speaking the native
     language to one another. What do you think, my darling?

     No, no, no...hmmm. We need something useful, something that can be used to 
     our advantage against our enemies in battle. Now we could always take 
     Russian, but I think that Chinese would be better suited here. I mean, no one 
     knows Chinese. Think of what an asset I would be to the Navy if I learned 
     Chinese! Or we could always do Tagalog. Some guy on my ship was Filipino 
     and he taught me a swear word, so I've already got a little background in the 
     language.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some Chinese Buffet, but hard as I tried, I could not picture anything romantic about Richard and me speaking Chinese back and forth to one another. We discussed it a bit more, and in the end, we decided on Spanish. I know, not exactly exciting, but we figured we would be able to get the most use out of that language. I mean, we're only a few blocks away from a Mexican restaurant, where we can test out our new language. 

Plus, I love margaritas and tamales, so, added bonus right there.

     Okay, so we're agreed on Spanish. Order that shiz, baby!

     All right...but are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it's not cheap. So I
     don't want you to wake up in the morning and be all, yeah, that was the wine
     talking, I didn't mean for you to spend almost $200 on materials to learn
     another language.

     No way Jose, I am down to learn some español! See? I already sound like a 
     natural. Let's do this!

So this should be fun, getting to spend some time, every night together, learning a new skill. I am really excited.

I just hope Husband doesn't wake up tomorrow and change his mind, otherwise we'll have a ton of Spanish learning materials that will just sit in our house collecting dust, and I'll be stuck ordering Mexican food in boring old English for the rest of my life.

Figuring it Out

I pulled into the parking spot, and that's when I saw her. A woman standing behind a table with the words Autism Awareness on a large sign. She was collecting donations for the cause.

I could feel my heart beating faster. In the past, I would have had no problem giving a quick, polite smile and hurrying into the store, or simply avoiding eye contact like I do with the Girl Scouts every year when it's cookie season time. But something inside me said I couldn't ignore her, as all of the other patrons appeared to be doing. I knew I had to go talk to her.

I approached her table, and she started softly rattling off her memorized lines that she had probably said to a dozen people that evening, without any response. 

When she finished, I smiled and said, "My son has autism". I could hear my voice shaking as the words came out. I forced myself to take a deep breath, to steady myself.

I have literally said those words a handful of times. And definitely never to a stranger. I think those words every day; I live them. Still, they sounded foreign coming out of my mouth, stopping me in my tracks.

The woman's eyes brightened a bit. She handed me a pamphlet on autism, and asked if I had read it. I told her no, and took it, although I knew what it would say. I've read dozens of pamphlets and internet articles on autism; I would be surprised to learn something new at this point. I spotted a donation box filled with some dollar bills, and I told her I would see if I could get some cash while in the store.

Even though I finally opened up about Binker's diagnosis on my blog here, I know that I still keep a lot of it internalized. I don't walk around with a sign on me that reads, "I have a child with autism". To most, I smile and say everything is great, and, honestly, as I wrote about, things are very good. The progress he made this past year is amazing, and I know he will continue to do so, but there are difficult days - when he is overly tired, when he gets frustrated at a toy, or scared in the night but is unable to explain why - and then everything just melts down. During those times, I feel like I am walking on egg shells around my child. Trying so hard to stay one step ahead of him - trying to anticipate what he will want - so that he doesn't get even more upset. 

I feel uncomfortable when we're out in public and strangers will try to talk to him. They ask him questions, like how old he is, how many siblings he has, is he excited about the new baby, what's his name. They always look a bit perplexed when Binker doesn't answer, or he repeats the question they just asked, or he answers by saying something like, "The light is on!" While looking at the ceiling lights. I always try to answer for him, or make some excuse about him being shy.  

On one hand, it would be so easy to just tell everyone we come in contact with up front that Binker has autism, but on the other hand, I don't want that to be the first thing people know about him.

We left Binker's first pediatrician, who initially got us on this path, because I did not appreciate his bed side manner with Jacob, or the way in which he handled the situation as a whole, but there was one thing he told us that I have tried to keep as my mantra this past year. When we were in his office, and we knew we would have to wait to get in to see the speech therapist, and any specialists, I felt so helpless. There is nothing worse than wanting to help your child, and not being able to take immediate action. I asked the doctor what we should do in the meantime. His answer: Treat him like a typical kid, just as you would if he didn't have autism. 

I have done my best to treat him the same as I treat his brothers. Obviously there are times when I cut him some slack, when I don't think he fully understands what it is we're telling him, or asking of him, but for the most part, he is treated just like any typical three year old boy. That's how I see him, too. To me, he is my sweet, funny, bright, lovable firstborn son. Who just happens to have autism.

It was nice to be able to open up to that woman at the store, almost cathartic in a way. But at the end of the day, I want the world to see Binker the way I see him. Just wonderful and awesome, the way God made him. 

I guess I'm still figuring this all out as we go.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to all...

...And to all a good night.

Elf on a Shelf

Christmas was always magical for me as a kid. My parents went all out in talking up Santa and his elves. I have written about our own personal Santa, who was so believable and awesome that I literally believed in Santa until I was 10. In fact, if my mom hadn't told me the truth I would probably still believe in him today.

Not only did we have our own Santa though, but we had our own elf. Ohhh yes. His name was Elmo, and, according to my dad, (who claimed he saw him once, OMG!), Elmo had red hair and very red cheeks. We never saw Elmo, ourselves, but every December, it never failed, we would hear this high-pitched, delirious giggle ring through the house, and my mom would tell us we needed to hide because Elmo was at our house, and we weren't allowed to see him. So we would hide, and a few minutes later, my mom would give us the all clear, and then we would go through the house looking for the little presents he would leave for us.

It was never anything big, usually something like a toothbrush or toothpaste, but the fact that Elmo, Santa's Elf brought it for us all the way from the North Pole, made it that much more special.

I like to think that our family was unique in that we had our own elf, but nowadays, any kid can have one: it's called Elf on a Shelf. And it kind of makes me wonder why my own parents didn't invent it themselves. It's a small elf doll, that arrives every December to keep an eye on the kids in the house. Every night he reports back to Santa on whether the kids are being good or bad, and since the elf leaves every night, when he arrives back the next morning, he, of course, needs to be in a new location.

Every family gets to name their elf. Ours is Sprinkles.

He's been in some funny places this month. I'll admit there have been a few mornings where I think Sprinkles got a little lazy and forgot to move to a new location, so he would covertly jump to a new place while the kids ate breakfast.

Our boys are still a little young to fully understand all of this Santa/Elf stuff, but they enjoy looking for Sprinkles each morning, in fact, that's usually the first thing they ask me. "Where's Sprinkles?!" And then they race around the house until they find him.

Here are a few places the boys have awakened to find Sprinkles this month:

On a picture frame

Hanging outside their bedroom door

On the TV

On the coat rack

On a curtain rod

On the Christmas tree

In a stocking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the chandelier

 The boys have really had a better understanding of Christmastime, and opening presents this season. Sprinkles has played a big part in encouraging them to be interactive in the festivities. It makes me that much more excited for next year, I think they will really be into all the fun and magic that Christmas has to offer.

Now I'm off to drink my weight in egg nog and peppermint white chocolate martinis while it is still socially acceptable for a few more days. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Hoarding, revisited.

Okay.

I just opened the garbage can in our kitchen and something caught my eye, something that didn't belong in there: clothes. And toys. And a sippy cup. And a baby monitor. All stuffed into a grocery bag, and thrown into the garbage can. It took me about .2 seconds to finger the culprit.

Bug. My hoarder.

I wrote about his hoarding habit before, almost a year ago, and since then, he has only gotten worse. He hoards everything - and I mean everything - from rubber balls, to mittens, to hair curlers, to scraps of paper he finds on the floor, to the toilet paper roll holder thingy. And he will hoard these items into whatever he can find, such as the DVD cabinet, cardboard boxes, clothes hampers, shoes, animal cracker boxes, his backpack, and his favorite, the grocery bag.

For your enjoyment, and as a way to maintain my sanity, (because I mean, really, at this point, it's either laugh at it or lose my mind), I have taken some photos of places I have discovered his hoarding piles.

Yeah, that's a paper towel roll.

Okay, this one is fun. Not only did he hoard small items into each of those red stocking hats, but then he hoarded the hats and his dinosaur into his high chair. He is hoarding his hoarded items. It's like Inception for hoarders, OMG.

Hoarding in his shoes. Really?

This past weekend though, I believe took the prize. I needed to use the bathroom, but when I opened the door, I was met with this:

Yes, that is correct. He hoarded in the toilet. And upon fishing the items out of the toilet, what kinds of treasures did we find? Well, for starters, about 50 plastic travel place mats (there goes $5.00 I'll never get back), the toilet paper holder, a red Santa bag from Target (the same one that is pictured about six photos up), and a baby shoe. Husband and I were holding our breath the entire time until we reached the bottom and confirmed that (THANK GOD), Bug had not attempted to flush the toilet with all of that stuff in there.

Oh, and as a side note, I just want to give a shout-out to the Lid-Lok toilet lock company for making just one more "child-proof" item that I have trouble using, yet my toddlers can - not only open - but also remove without difficulty. It's on the same list as child-proof doorknobs, and child-proof dishwasher locks. Am I smarter than a toddler? Apparently not.

A few weeks ago, I got so concerned over Bug's unstoppable hoarding that I Googled it. I was surprised to read that apparently many toddlers engage in this behavior, as it is their way of taking control over something, like their toys, in a world where they don't have much control. These articles also warned against trying to stop the child, claiming it is harmless behavior, and that if you try to stop them from doing it, it will only lead to unnecessary tantrums.

Now, I am all about avoiding tantrums, but in all my years I have never heard of toddler hoarding, and I find it hard to believe that it is that common of a thing. Is anyone else out there dealing with this issue? Even on a much smaller scale?

Please tell me I'm not alone, otherwise I am calling TLC. If I can't stop Ryan from hoarding, maybe we can at least we can get some celebrity out of it.

Flashback Friday - Christmases Past

Disclosure: I am stealing this post idea from Stefanie over at The Trigstad Family.

I thought that posting Santa photos from the past few years was such a cute idea, to show how the kids have grown and changed, and to debate over which Santa was the creepiest, obviously. I have to apologize though, I don't have any actual digital copies of the pictures, so these were all either scanned, or are a photo of a photo. Not the best quality, but it works.

2008, Binker's first Christmas, he was exactly 7 months old the day we had this photo taken. Ohh, he was so chubby and cute in his little vest and tie!

2009,  Binker was about 19 months old, and Bug was about 8 months. I love how Binker looks unsure about this whole situation, I remember he kept staring at Santa's beard, and Bug is just eating up the attention.

2010, Binker was 2 and a half, and Bug was about 20 months old. Neither one would smile for the camera, but amazingly they sat still and no one cried!

2011, Binker is 3 and a half, Bug is a little over 2 and a half, and Boo was exactly one month old on picture day. This year was by far the most challenging. Binker and Bug were not at all interested in sitting on Santa's lap, so we kept bribing them with candy. You can see in this picture that Binker is about 2 seconds away from sliding off the chair, but miracle of all miracles, we managed to get a photo of them all looking at the camera! (I gave up on trying for a smiley picture a long time ago).

So there you have it. Photos of our Christmases past. I have to admit that I do feel a little robbed that I don't have any photos of them screaming or crying because they don't want to be near Santa. Isn't that some sort of parent's rite of passage or something?

Anchors Away

Four years, six months and two days ago, I woke up at 4:45am, ready to head to the pier at Naval Station Everett for work, to welcome home the sailors from the USS Rodney M. Davis. I had no idea my entire life would change that day.

Somewhere in bachelor housing on the base, Husband was waking up, in a bad mood. This was to be his first day aboard the Davis, the ship he'd been assigned to. It was his first sea duty assignment, and he was not looking forward to it. He had no idea that a day he thought would be not so great, turned into one of the best days of his life.

I was organizing our booth on the pier, when I looked up to find myself staring into the most beautiful set of green eyes I'd ever seen in my life. It was only for a second though, the handsome sailor was passing by our table when our eyes met, and then he continued on. I grabbed my boss, Julie, and said "Oh my gosh, did you see that guy's eyes? They were gorgeous!"

I couldn't stop thinking about how handsome he'd been. I'd worked at several Naval homecomings before, and had never looked at a single sailor; I simply wasn't interested in dating someone in the military. But there was something about this one, I felt drawn to him. He was with a small group of other sailors, waiting to meet the ship, and they hung close to our table. He and I kept making eye contact and smiling shyly at one another. Finally, I saw him standing alone, this was my chance. I walked over, and asked him how long it would be before the sailors disembarked from the ship. He and I began talking, and before we knew it, we were sharing our life stories - where we each grew up, and information about our families. I found out that the day before had been his 23rd birthday, he was the same age as me. 

After about 15 minutes he said, "I'm Richard, by the way." I told him my name, and we shook hands. He got a cute smile on his face, and said, "So, can I get your number?"

Three hours later he called me. We went on our first date that night, and three weeks after that first date, he proposed. The rest is history. 

Our entire relationship, up to this point, has coincided with Husband's time on his ship. So many important moments in our life together have revolved around the ship's schedule. We couldn't take longer than a two day honeymoon because they were scheduled to ship out the Monday after we got married. The ship was in San Diego when Binker was born, so Husband had to take two weeks of leave so he would be home for his birth. And it was a miracle that Husband was granted emergency leave to come home for Bug's birth, since his ship was on a six month deployment when he was born. I have traveled to San Diego numerous times to visit him on the many trips his ship has taken down there. Before we met, I had never even been to San Diego, now I consider it to be one of my favorite cities. 

We've never been able to makes plans very far out, as the ship's schedule could be unpredictable, and always subject to change.

But all of that ends today.

Today is Husband's very last day on the ship. His tour of duty with them is over, after four and a half years. I don't even want to know how many days from those four and a half years we spent apart. I could try to figure it out, but that's just depressing. My guess would be at least half. There were the two deployments, equaling over a year's time, and dozens of underways, which ranged from a couple days' time, to a couple months.

While he was on the Davis though, he accomplished so much. When we met, Husband was a Seaman, he has since been promoted twice to Petty Officer, 2nd Class. He obtained his ESWS Pin two years ago, after extensive studying and testing. He was a member of the VBSS team, and while on the ship he earned a Navy Achievement Medal. We are beyond proud of his many successes. He is the hardest working sailor I know, and has been entrusted with numerous leadership responsibilities. But he is burnt out. Four and half years at sea is exhausting, and I know that these next few years off, in his new position will be a good relief for him. Selfishly, I am looking forward to no duty days and no deployments for a few years. I am so excited to have him home every night, on a somewhat regular schedule. 

It's weird to think that there will be no more 5am alarms to wake up to, no more days without him coming home. This is the only life I have known with my husband, but I am very excited for the next chapter to begin, and see where it takes us.

Living on the Spectrum

Sitting in the pediatrician's office that evening I felt sick. My stomach was in knots, my throat dry. I knew that tears were not far away, but I did my best to appear strong and composed, as though I had it together. I wanted to make sure I asked questions, and listened - really listened - to the doctor's answers. 

I couldn't stop staring at the piece of paper he held in front of us as he explained the situation we were facing. He said there were several red flags, based on the questionnaire I had filled out about our eldest son.

Loss of speech.

Poor eye contact.

Toe walking.

Jumping. Hand flapping.

No imaginary play. Solitary play.

The doctor refused to make a diagnosis then and there, but in his opinion, Jacob appeared to be exhibiting signs of autism.

Autism.

It was like the world came out from under me. Driving home that night, Husband and I didn't say much. We had so many thoughts and emotions we were trying to process. This had all happened so suddenly. Only a month before, we thought we had a typically-developing two year old, who was picking up new words every day. Then in mid-January we noticed he wasn't talking anymore. At all. In fact, our middle son, 10 months younger than Jacob, was talking more than he was. We knew something wasn't right.

It's been a busy and involved road since that night in the pediatrician's office almost a year ago: Speech therapy, occupational therapy, restrictive diet, dietary supplements, special ed preschool that focuses on speech delays. Lots of prayer.

It's taken me this long to feel ready to talk about it. Until now, I've only shared this part of our lives with a select few. My biggest concern has been that people will treat Jacob differently, or label him. I have said from the beginning, no matter what, autism may be something he has, but it will not be who he is. 

Now though, now that I have some perspective, I am excited to write about our journey. I won't lie. In the beginning, before the therapies started, before I really educated myself about the autism spectrum, I had a lot of fears. There were many days when I literally collapsed onto the floor crying, completely unsure of what my son's future looked like, now that autism was most likely a part of it.

We believe Jacob has what is known as regressive autism, meaning that for approximately the first 2 years, 8 months of his life, he was developing typically, there was no reason for us to be concerned. And then, without warning, he began regressing: losing language, not making eye contact with us, or responding to us; disappearing into his own "world". He began jumping a lot and flapping his hands, also known as "stimming". He would carry out repetitive actions.

This past year though, Jacob has made amazing progress. He went from not using any words, to regularly speaking in four-word sentences. He is beginning to ask "W" questions. He uses imaginary play on a daily basis. He can make choices when given options. His eye contact is stellar, and he often engages with other people. He is awesome at following directions. He knows the entire alphabet - recognizes each letter, knows the sound each letter makes, and can tell you a word that starts with each letter. He can count to 30, and I have lost track of the number of songs he knows by heart.

To someone else, these may all seem very simple, but watching my son learn and master these skills has been amazing for our family. I have watched him struggle so many times; frustrated when he doesn't have the words to express what he is feeling or thinking. So with each new step and task learned, I consider it one more crack in the process of breaking into his world. 

Our focus will remain what it has been this year. Keep pushing Jacob, keep supporting him, keep getting him the services and assistance he needs to continue building on the skills he has learned, and continue expanding his speech. Our ultimate goal at this time, is to have him in a regular classroom by the time he starts kindergarten. I believe he can do it, and we are committed to making it happen.

From now on, I will occasionally be sharing parts of our journey and experiences we have while going through this. I can't wait to see where Jacob will be 6-, 12-, 18-months down the line. I know he will only get better and better.

That January night, sitting across from the pediatrician, the last word that would have come to my mind was Joy. And even though we definitely have struggles and hard days, I have to say that seeing my son learn so much has brought me immense joy. Every little accomplishment is a reason to celebrate. I have also learned that some of my favorite parts of Jacob's personality are probably related to his autism; he wouldn't be the same boy he is without. And I wouldn't change him for anything.

On birthing a 10 pound baby, and other reasons I am done having kids.

             
                 No more kids for me!!

That was the first text I sent after having Boo.

Don't get me wrong. I adore him. The moment I saw him, I fell instantly in love. I kept saying "He's perfect, he's so perfect!"

But.

Between having a nearly-10 pound baby, and receiving a jacked up epidural that only worked on HALF of my body? I can easily say that giving birth to him was the single most painful experience of my life. I told Husband it's a good thing that our first son's birth wasn't that painful or we would have stopped at one kid. 

Obviously Boo was worth all of the pain, but I cringe whenever I think about the experience of having him. And the idea of doing it again is enough to terrify me right into a hysterectomy appointment.

My mom and grandma told me that I am going to jinx myself if I say "no more kids", but from where I stand right now, it would take a miracle for me to change my mind. Plus, as much as I love our new house, I don't know where we would put a fourth kid. I don't even know if I could mentally keep track of four kids.

So, for the time being I am going to love and enjoy the three healthy babies I've got. Whether or not we ever have another child, I will consider myself to be incredibly blessed. Life is so good. These three sweet faces remind me of that every day.

Zebra needs to die.

     So, if you could kill any character in "Madagascar", who would it be?

     Easy. The zebra.

    Really? I think for me, it would have to be the giraffe.

    Oh, no way. I like the giraffe, he actually has some good lines. Plus, it's
    Ross from "Friends", you can't kill off Ross. It has to be the zebra.

For ages I tried in vain to get my children to sit through a full-length movie. I tried everything - "Cars", "Toy Story", all the favorites; nothing worked. And then one day I came across the "Madagascar" DVD in our house. I didn't even know we owned the movie, and I had never seen it myself. I wanted something to distract Bug for a few minutes, so I put it on. 

 90 minutes later, Bug was still watching the TV as the credits began rolling.

Did this just happen? Did he actually watch a full-length movie?! I couldn't believe it. And, even more shocking, when Binker came home from preschool later that day, I turned it on again and they BOTH watched it. All the way through!

The boys enjoyed the movie so much that they began requesting it on a daily basis, and I was happy to oblige. Sometimes they even wanted to watch it twice in a day. Normally I don't like to have my kids just sit in front of the TV, but between packing our house for the move and having a new baby to attend to, I decided to bend the rules a bit. It was awesome for me to be able to have something I could put on for them that would keep them busy for a good hour and a half. Plus, I had to admit that the movie was pretty cute, even funny in some parts. 

It was probably around the hundredth time they watched it, that I began to get a little bored with the same jokes. And by the thousandth time, I could pretty accurately recite the movie line for line along with the characters.

Now of the course, the children have watched it, oh I don't know, five hundredy jillion times. Husband and I have made every possible sarcastic joke to each other about the plot, lines, and characters. We tried humor at first to keep ourselves sane, however, even that doesn't work now. Which is what led to the conversation we had this morning over which character needs to die first.

Please. I am desperate. I need recommendations for movies that your kids like. Obviously mine are hard to please, as this has been the first and only movie to hold their attention, but I am open to any and all suggestions. 

My sanity is at stake here, people.

Introducing...

Baby Boo.

 

Born October 30th, at 9:43pm.

 

9 pounds, 13 ounces. 

21 inches long.

Perfect in every way.

Overdue

Due dates suck. 

It's like waiting all year for Christmas, only for the day to arrive and Santa is all, "Raincheck?"

We're still waiting.

October

I love the month of October.

I love the sights, sounds, smells, tastes. It is such a fun, comforting time of year. Sweaters come out, warm drinks fill the days, fireplaces come alight, and pumpkins can be seen around every corner. We've been filling our days with lots of fun autumn activities, since we know that new baby will be here any time. A couple weekends ago we visited the pumpkin patch, which was lots of fun. We picked out pumpkins, rode the train and went on a hay ride. The boys had a blast! These were two of my favorite shots from that day.

This week we had some fun carving our pumpkins! Well, actually, I was the only one who did the carving. I don't think our boys are quite ready to be carving anything just yet, and I considered letting them paint their pumpkins, but in the end decided that was a mess I just wasn't up to cleaning! I carved my pumpkin to look like a witch stirring a cauldron, Jacob's pumpkin is a ghost carved within the word "BOO", that goes around the entire pumpkin, and Ryan's is the classic Jack-o-lantern face. Richard hasn't carved his pumpkin yet, but it is monster of a pumpkin, so it is going to take some serious work. And the teeny pumpkin in the photos is Baby's pumpkin!

 

So that's what we've been up to lately, passing the time with fun fall activities!

The Waiting Game

A week ago I was certain I was just moments away from going into labor.

Yet here I sit. Another week bigger. More uncomfortable than ever. Sleep? What's that? 

Five days ago I was 3cm dilated and 80% effaced, (if you don't know what any of that means I will just let you Google it). Since then, I have walked every day, sometimes twice a day, and cleaned my house obsessively, expecting my water to break or contractions to come on with every passing hour. I just don't even understand how I am still pregnant with as much as I have been on my feet. Apparently baby is really comfortable I guess, so I have resigned myself to the fact that he will come when he is good and ready, and until then, we will all just have to wait.

If one more person asks me when I am going to have this baby though, I might lose it.

Husband is the worst offender of all. When he is at work, he calls every hour, asking if my water has broken yet. As if I wouldn't let him know. Like I'm gonna call him up a few hours later and be all, "Surprise! I had a baby! Didn't want to bother you at work though, so I just thought I'd keep it to myself."

I know that baby will eventually arrive though, even though these last few days (weeks?) may feel like an eternity. I am just so excited to meet him, and hold him, and see his sweet little face for the first time. I can only hope that my next post will include a photo of our newest family member.

Home Sweet Home

This past Monday, our sale officially closed, and this house, became ours.

Our very first home. All our own. No more rent checks, no more landlords.

Of course, that means that when the plumbing decides to act up, or there's a rat in the attic at 3am (heaven forbid), there is also no landlord to call to come deal with it. But, there is such a sense of pride and satisfaction in owning our own house.

The week before we found this house, there was another one we thought we wanted. We had been working with a Realtor at the time, and it was the nicest home we'd seen up to that point (read: no appliances had been ripped out and there were no domestic violence-esque holes in doors). Also, it appeared to be in a really nice neighborhood, something else we had not found. We decided it was as good as we were going to be able to find, even though it was a bit more than we originally wanted to pay. We told our Realtor on Saturday that we wanted to make an offer. He told us he would draw up the papers, and we could officially make an offer that Thursday - oh, and to bring a $5,000 check with us as earnest money deposit. Now, I'm not going to get into specifics of our finances and whatnot, but we are a single-income family, with two kids, one on the way. We don't have very much in the way of disposable income, so when the Realtor said "Five thousand dollars", I literally almost started laughing. I thought for sure he had to be kidding. He knew we were looking to go with a VA loan - no money down, and $5,000 sounded as good as a down payment in my mind.

Richard and I exchanged awkward glances, telepathically asking each other, Is this guy serious?

The guy shifted, and said, "Okay, at least a thousand then."

Another awkward exchange of glances.

The realtor raised his eyebrows, "You have to show them that you're serious about buying, you have to give them something."

We promised to arrive on Thursday with a $1,000 check, although neither one of us knew where we were going to find that money over the next five days.

During the drive home, our excitement over having just made our first offer on a house faded into uncertainty and frustration. We began to feel that maybe we just weren't able to buy a home; maybe this was something that was still very much out of reach for our young family at this time. By the time we got home, 45 minutes later, I wrote an email to our realtor telling him we had changed our mind on the offer, and that we just didn't think we could buy a home now. Essentially, we broke up with him.

The following weekend my parents had been driving around, when they came across a house that was for sale by owner. They got a flier, spoke briefly to the sellers, whom they said were super friendly, and then they passed the information along to us. We thought the flier looked great, although we were still feeling very skeptical from the brief house hunting experience we'd had. The next day we went to check it out, and, as they say, the rest is history.

Looking back now, I am so glad we didn't stick with that first house. Aside from the financial issues we were faced with up front, I realize now that we were going to sacrifice a lot. The house was a good 35 minutes from the school Jacob now goes to. So either I would have had to change and dress three little kids four mornings a week, to get Jacob to school on time, or he would have had to change districts, which we really did not want to do, since the one he is in has such a fantastic reputation. Also, the backyard of that house, while gated, left much to be desired. It was quite small, without much of a yard to speak of at all. The inside of the house was nice enough, but there wasn't any sort of designated playroom, and the family room wouldn't have accommodated all of their toys, plus our furniture. And, to top it off, we were going to pay way over our budget for the house, that, in hindsight, was just so-so.

The house we ended up purchasing? It's perfect, if I may say so. I have so many visions for this house. The backyard, in particular. I think our boys will love spending long summer days out in the fenced yard running, playing, chasing, rough housing, imagining. It is the perfect yard for kids. There is already a swingset, and I would like to add a slide onto it. There is also a seriously awesome tree, that is pretty wide with a low center - the perfect kind of tree for a tree house of some sort, so we are going to get to work building something like that next summer. There is a large deck, which I envision us having barbecues and drinks on while we watch the kids run around in the grass. I am so beyond thrilled about our new home, it really has all of the things that we wanted when we first set out on the house hunt a few months ago. And it was just too ironic that within days of us becoming discouraged, and believing there was no way we could afford a home, we found the one that met all of our needs, and was within our budget. I firmly believe God had his hand on us, guiding us to that house, knowing it was the perfect one for us and our three boys.

Now all that's left to do is pack up our things and prepare for the big move!

Being an adult sucks.

I had a realization today: It kind of sucks being an adult.

There is so much responsibility, and bills to pay, and little people who rely on you for every need from feeding them to wiping their butts. I think back to when I was in college, my parents paid my tuition, dorm/apartment fees, cafeteria/grocery bills, and even the gas for my car. Whatever money I made working I got to spend on clothes or late night trips to Wal Mart.

I thought I was suuuuch an adult. And I thought it was awesome. Wow, I had no clue what being an adult was really about.

It just seems like lately we can't catch a break. For a couple months leading up to the financing of the house we just bought (Yay! Exciting!), we were literally scraping by. It seemed like every two weeks, right before pay day we would be down to $55 in our checking account, meticulously planning who really needed to put gas in their car, and how important diapers are.

Then we closed on the house, and things shifted in our favor. For a change we had extra money in our account. We were planning to pay off the credit card, and put some in savings. It felt so good to be on the other side of things financially for a change.

For a whole five days.

Then this morning we found out that my car, our "good" car, and the only one with enough seats for our all of our family members (read: kind of an important vehicle), needed new front brakes, rotors, and dry belt.

It was currently being serviced for the 60,000 mile check, so I asked the Toyota service rep how much he thought the final cost would be for the servicing, plus replacement of the above mentioned parts.

$1,200 American dollars.

My heart sunk. Are you kidding me?? Couldn't we enjoy our financial stability just a little bit longer? Not to mention, that I could go into labor any day, so we don't really have the time to be without our car that holds all of the car seats. Sigh.

The fact is though, we need to keep that car in good shape, it is vital that that car does not totally die on us, or decide to lose its breaks on the freeway. Thankfully, there is a bright side to this story. We were able to find a local automotive repair place who gave us a quote much below Toyota's, so thank goodness for that. This is just life though; it's all part of being an adult and dealing with the issues that come along with having a family and owning cars and homes.

But can everything else please stay in good working order for at least another six months?!

Cream Cheese Stuffed French Toast

I've never posted a recipe to my blog before, that's not what I am known for, (seriously, ask anyone). I despise making meals, mainly because I am so not creative, and have trouble thinking up fun and tasty things to eat. Also, I am 98% sure my brother inherited any and all culinary skills in the family, since he is able to magically whip up the most awesome dishes with absolutely no recipe to follow, whatsoever. By the time I was born, I was pretty much left to fend for myself, which has meant as an adult relying on prepackaged foods, pizza delivery, and the occasional drive-through.

However.

This morning I was in the mood for a delicious, comfort food kind of breakfast, and so I made my most favorite french toast recipe, and it did not disappoint. As I sat at my table enjoying every delicious bite, I thought, what the heck? I shouldn't keep this delicacy all to myself, I want to share it with my friends! So, friends, here you go. A delicious, and, most of all, easy, french toast recipe, (scroll to the bottom for a healthier alternative!):

Cream Cheese Stuffed French Toast

2 slices bread (I prefer white or wheat)

1 tbsp. butter

2 tsp. cinnamon/sugar mix (optional)

2 eggs

1 tbsp. cream cheese

1-2 tbsp. maple syrup

Mix eggs and cinnamon/sugar mixture in a bowl. Dip one slice of bread in bowl and cover both sides with the mixture. Melt half of the butter on frying pan, throw dipped bread on frying pan. Flip occasionally until it is fully cooked. Repeat with second slice of bread. Place cream cheese and syrup on bottom piece of french toast, then place second piece on top, making a sort of french toast "sandwich". Enjoy!

I took this picture mid-meal, that's why it isn't exactly "pretty", but wanted to give an idea of what it looks like. Really though, who cares how it looks when it tastes AH-MAZ-ING?!

Healthy Alternative:

*Substitute diet bread (45 calories or less per slice)

*Cut out cinnamon/sugar mix, or replace sugar with a sugar substitute of your choice

*Substitute nonfat cream cheese

*Substitute sugar-free maple syrup

*Substitute no-calorie cooking spray instead of butter

I have made this recipe both ways, and it is delicious no matter which recipe you go with! A wonderfully satisfying breakfast for a fall or winter morning. Pair with hot chocolate or coffee. Yum!

You say tomato, they say kenihopter

There are a few reasons I decided to start this blog, the main being to keep myself occupied while Richard was on deployment last year. It also provides a creative outlet for me, because as much as I love being a stay at home mom, I would go just a little crazy if I didn't have a fun way to express myself, and my favorite form just happens to be writing. But another great thing about keeping a blog, is that I get to chronicle milestones my kids hit, or funny things they do, or just keep record of fun memories of them. 

Lately I have been enjoying listening as they try to learn the English language, and giggling at the funny ways in which they pronounce certain words. I don't expect a lot of my friends to really care about this post, so this is mostly for myself to be able to look back in a few years and remember how cute it was when the boys were learning to talk.

First up is Binker. He's usually really good about saying things correctly, but there are a few words that tend to trip him up:

Peep-a-boo = Peek-a-boo - He has actually already outgrown this one (sniffle, sniffle), I always thought it was super adorable though, and didn't want to forget it.

Beegles = Wiggles - Binker is really into The Wiggles, a kid's show/musical group from Australia. But whenever he talks about them, it sounds like he is talking about the dog breed instead!

Lackberry = Blackberry - We picked blackberries from our yard this year, and both the boys LOVED them, but apparently the "b" is silent.

Pasketti = Spaghetti - So I'm pretty sure this one is not unique to Binker, but it is freaking cute nonetheless!

Lellow = Yellow - Binker learned his colors this summer in preschool, and my absolute favorite is how he says "Lellow". I might even ask him 50 times a day to tell me what color yellow things are, just to hear him say it!

Music-seum = Museum - I took the boys to two different children's museums last week, and they had a blast! I'm not really sure why he inserted the word "music" in there, aside from the fact that he absolutely adores music? But he keeps saying "I like music-seum! Let's go music-seum!" 

Now for Bug. He has always been harder to understand than his brother, but that only makes his attempts at talking that much cuter!

Jeetub = Jacob - speaking of his big brother, this is how Bug pronounces his name.

Frower = Brother - As in when Bug will tackle Binker in a hug and say, "I ruv you frower!" Awww!

Kenihopter = Helicopter - Totally stinking cute. That is all.

Bumbrella = Umbrella - My mom bought each of the boys their own little Cars-themed umbrella, and Bug will run around the house with it shouting, "MY bumbrella!"

Stinker = Sticker - I looooove how he says this, and I think I will seriously cry when he stops saying it like that.

These are the only ones I can think of for now. I'm sure as soon as I post this I will instantly remember five more words that they say in a funny or unique way, but at least I have a record of these ones. I really love the ages the boys are at right now, it's so fun being able to communicate with them...you know...as much as one can with two and three year olds, and to watch them try to communicate back. They are little boys for sure, but then they will say something totally adorable that melts my heart and reminds me of the sweet little babies they used to be.

Multipurpose.

 

Yes. I can actually use my belly as a table of sorts these days. 35 weeks as of today. I have officially passed the point when Bug was born, (cue huge sigh of relief). 

And, just hours after expressing my relief on Facebook, I began having contractions. Last night they were coming every four minutes over a span of about two hours. I finally decided that if I was able to sleep through them, then it probably meant they weren't a big deal, and, I was able to fall asleep. I have felt them on and off all day, but, no longer close enough together to time.

So, what does this mean?

Well, we're headed in the right direction. But whether it will be five more weeks, or just days until we meet our newest son, I can't tell you for sure. 

In the meantime though, I will continue making use of my built-in shelf while I can.

10 Years Later

On September 11th, 2001, I was addicted to my No Doubt Return of Saturn CD. I had it on repeat in my car; I didn't bother turning on the radio on the way to school. It was the second week of my senior year of high school. Life was simple.

I made my way to the building where my first class was, probably around 7:40 in the morning. I saw a group of people huddled around a TV. I realized that something was happening, but had no clue what. Our teacher let us watch the news for maybe 15 minutes, before forcing us to our studies. I remember that whole day was filled with lots of questions, and confusion, until I got home and was able to really get caught up on the horror of what had unfolded earlier that morning in New York, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania.

I was a 17 year old girl. 

So naive. 

I clearly remember thinking on the afternoon of the attacks, that we would never know who was responsible for them. At that time, I knew nothing of terrorists, or Al Qaeda. I equated the acts of 9/11 with murder, and in my mind, murderers usually try to hide who they are, to save their own skin. It was beyond my comprehension that anyone would actually claim responsibility or take credit for the villainous acts of that day. 

How my eyes were opened.

I was at an age where I was old enough to fully comprehend what had happened, and how terribly tragic it was. At the same time though, it was my first real exposure to anything so horrific. It was jarring.

So much death. So much loss.

I was beginning my senior year of high school; was this the world I was about to enter as an adult? Because I wanted none of it.

I can never stand up and say that my life was personally affected by what happened on September 11th, 2001. I didn't lose any loved ones, I didn't even know anyone who lived on the east coast at that time.  I know that the significance of that day to me, is eclipsed by the thousands and thousands of families and friends who did lose close ones on 9/11.

Yet, the words 9/11 will always feel like a bruise on my heart. Our country was irrevocably changed that day, and I think that most Americans share my sentiments toward it. Even if we weren't affected personally, we still take that attack personally, as U.S. citizens. And I believe it is something that will be hard for those to understand who did not live through it - my children, for instance. September 11th will simply be something they learn about in history class - it will be far away - removed from them. 

The day after the attacks, a beloved middle school teacher of mine died in a plane crash while on vacation in Mexico. The news was an added assault to the fragile state that I, and many of my classmates were in. To our young minds, it seemed the world was suddenly filled with evil and injustice. Good people die, and bad people triumph? I couldn't make sense of it.

The afternoon of September 12th, I sat in our back yard, in the sunshine. It was such a beautiful day, but it felt so wrong. It was as if someone forgot to tell the sun not shine; too many people were hurting.

My dad came outside, and started talking to me. I think he could see that I was hurt, afraid, and confused. After a while, he picked a rose from our yard, a lovely shade of pink. He handed it to me, and said, "This is something beautiful that God has made. There is still beauty in the world, and you need to hold on to that."

I have never forgotten what he said. There is pain in life, this is something that I have learned tenfold since that day ten years ago; but beauty does remain. Good remains. Oftentimes it is right in front of us, we just need to open our eyes to see it.

My heart will always break when I think of September 11th, 2001. So many dreams never reached, so many innocents taken from this earth, so many lives forever changed.

One lesson stands out though: that life is short. So very short. I try to hug my children a little longer (when they let me), and memorize how their faces look as they lay sleeping in their beds at night. Every day I kiss my husband, and tell him that I love him before he leaves for work in the morning. None of us know which day will be our last. No one can change the events of 10 years ago, and no one can prevent whatever tragedies may lay ahead. But I try to to hold onto faith and hope, and believe that through it all there is still goodness in the world.

Love your family, hold them tight. Enjoy every beautiful moment with them.

So much to do, so little time.

With all that we have going on in our lives these days, I've been feeling the pressure to get us prepared for what lies ahead - mainly having a baby, and then moving. I have started packing up items we won't need over the next four months, as well as clothing that we won't miss. I am trying to downsize where possible, selling furniture and other large things that just simply can't make the move with us (i.e. our treadmill which has been sitting in our garage, sadly neglected for far too long). On a related note, anyone interested in a treadmill?

In the midst of the downsizing though, I have also been bringing in more furniture to our bedroom: baby furniture. We only have two bedrooms in the house we're renting now. Binker and Bug currently share a room, and while there is actually plenty of space for a crib in it, I just don't feel comfortable having a brand new baby sleep in there with them. I know they wouldn't intentionally hurt him, but I worry about them climbing into the crib to get a closer look, or jumping in the crib while baby is trying to nap. So, even though I've never really been a fan of having my kids sleep in our room, we decided the best decision (and safest one), is to have baby stay with us until we move into our new house, where he will have his own room.

So earlier this week I brought Bug's old crib into our room, and today my mom helped me bring the baby changer in as well. I just spent over an hour putting away size newborn to 6 month clothes in the drawers of the changer, putting blankets and stuffed animals on the crib, and organizing diapers that I have stocked up on under the crib. Man, it feels so good to be so on top of things! (For once in my life, ha). 

The thing is, now that it is all set for baby, I feel like he should be here anytime. In reality though, I've got just under 8 weeks to go in this pregnancy. I think that because Bug was born 5 and a half weeks early, I just feel this fire under me, making me jump to action, afraid that we won't be prepared if this baby comes early too. Having a preemie will do that to you. But, I have no reason to think that I won't go to term this time. Everything is moving along on schedule, I haven't suffered any trauma, or fallen down the stairs (like I did with my last pregnancy), which, we kind of assume led to the early birth. So, for all intents and purposes, I may have just busted my butt this week getting ready for baby, only to have his things sit in our room collecting dust for almost two more months. Sigh.

As they say though, better to be prepared than not, right? And now I don't feel myself freaking out so much, thinking we won't be ready for his arrival. And it also frees me up to focus on doing more packing and move-prep while I can, before I've got three kids to think about. I'd like to hope that after the baby comes, I will still be productive, but I'm a realistic person. After having Bug I lived in my pajamas for literally a month. And it was probably two weeks after he was born, that I got around to taking a shower and washing my hair. Husband was gone, and while my mom helped out, it was just a shock to my system going from one kid to two kids, the older baby being only 10 months old at the time. Yeah, I don't know how I kept my sanity through that either. It's just a blur of staying up all night with Bug, then getting up bright and early with Binker. So, don't judge me for letting showers and appropriate clothing go by the wayside, 'k? Thanks.

One of my cousins told me awhile back that it is easier to go from 2 to 3 kids, than it was from 1 to 2, so I am hoping she is right, and that I will find that I am used to being in a state of constant chaos, so what's one more kid? Also, Husband will be home this time, so hopefully I will be able to get showers in on a daily basis. Or at least weekly.

Goodbye to Summer

It's been quiet on my blog lately, although that has definitely not been the case in our real lives. We have been busy making our way through the house buying process. Applied for a loan, signed purchase and sale agreement, completed the inspection. Busy, busy, busy. Now we are just figuring out exactly when we are going to close, and when we will be moving into the new home, all while trying to prepare for baby #3 who is due in less than two months.

At the same time, the weather lately has been awesome. And it seems even nicer, considering that we really got jipped this summer. Everyone likes to make fun of the Pacific Northwest for being such a rainy, gray climate, but our summers are typically spectacular. Beautiful. Crystal-clear. Mountains shining white in the distance, trees bright green, water a perfect, tranquil blue. And the temps hover around the 70's. Summer in the Puget Sound makes up for the depressing days of winter.

Usually.

This summer though was kind of a let down. Our sunny days were few and far between, and the crazy weather really messed with the crops too. Last year this week, I picked 20 pounds of apples from our apple tree. Right now? I doubt there are even two pounds to be picked, the tree is so sparse. And our plum tree didn't bloom at all. Wouldn't you know this was the first year I tried to grow my own garden, but the crazy weather patterns were no help, and all I ended up with was a handful of green and string beans.

So, since the weather was so fantastic last week, (and I am assuming that it will most likely be our last great week of summer), I tried to keep busy with the kids, taking them places or just playing outside, so that they could enjoy as much of it as possible before the weather turns cold.

On Wednesday, my brother and I took the kids (my two boys, and my niece), to Remlinger Farms, in Carnation. We didn't really know what to expect, but we were pleasantly surprised. It reminded us of a sort of miniature Disneyland, in a way. There were rides for the kids, animals, an empty school bus and fire truck to climb on and in, a train that you could ride around the farm, pony rides, musical entertainment, delicious food - seriously, SO much to do. The kids were in heaven.

Driving the school bus

Train Ride

Water ride

Carousel

Car ride

Thursday was another hot one, so the boys and I played in the back yard, for what may be one of our last times this summer. My kids are pretty easy to please. Hand them a hose to spray water around, and (one of the few) apples from the apple tree and they are happy. The boys just splashed around in the kiddie pool, and water table, and enjoyed being outside, one of their favorite places. Binker always says, "I like outside!" I get a little sad for him when I think of all the months we're going to be stuck inside during winter, but at least he will have school and other activities to keep him busy.

While they played happily in the water, I picked blackberries from our backyard. We don't have neighbors on one side of our house, it's just a large, overgrown blackberry field, and I can't believe that in the three-plus years we have lived here, I've never taken advantage of picking the blackberries - especially since they are my favorite. I picked several cups' worth though, and the boys were thrilled to eat them at lunch. I am thinking about making blackberry cobbler with the ones I have left.

Even though the temperatures were easily in the 80's, and we were all running around in shorts and tank tops, it was easy to see that fall is not far off. The signs of autumn are already starting to creep in.

I had to fight off a number of these spiderwebs to get the blackberries

Leaves changing color

It's always a little bittersweet to leave summer behind, but we have so much to look forward to in the coming months: Binker starting preschool, our newest son being born, moving into our very first home, and Husband beginning a new job with the Navy. Bring it on!