The Right Person in the Right Place: A Note to Young Women on Marriage

I met my husband when I was 18 years old. I had just graduated high school and moved to college. We met at a meeting for the track team that we were both a part of. He had just returned home from his mission, and though we became instant friends we didn’t start dating until a few months later. From the time of our first date, it was only 3 months until we were engaged. A few weeks after we started dating, I knew I had very strong feelings for him and so I started praying constantly to know whether he was someone I could be with forever, as well as fasting and attending the temple looking for guidance from my Heavenly Father. I remember the moment I knew. We were in the living room of my apartment watching a movie. I was sitting with my head lying on his shoulder and I had such an overwhelming feeling come over me that he could and would make me happy forever. It was such a strong, warm and comforting feeling and I will never forget it. When he proposed a couple of months later, I didn’t even hesitate for a second to tell him yes.

We were engaged for 5 months. About a month before the wedding I was preparing to go through the temple and finishing up some last minute wedding details. I went for a weekend with some friends to another friend’s wedding, and during that weekend that I was away I began to feel so dark and alone. I can’t explain the way I felt. I still don’t fully understand it. I felt physically sick and couldn’t shake a dark feeling inside of me. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t find comfort. A good friend there gave me a priesthood blessing of peace and comfort, and following the blessing I had a very distinct impression that what I had been feeling was Satan’s influence. I am confident that he was very aware of the choice that I was making to go receive the blessings of the temple and to be sealed to a wonderful man for eternity. And he was doing everything in his power to stop me from doing it. With the power of the priesthood, I was able to overcome those feelings and proceed with my temple marriage.

The day I was sealed in the temple is one of the most sacred and special memories that I hold. Though the day was a blur, I will never forget the feelings of peace, joy and comfort that I felt as I was surrounded by my family and the man I love, being sealed to him for time and all eternity.

Marriage is not easy. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking it is. I’m hopelessly in love with my dear husband. He is a wonderful husband, the best father, a hard worker with a sense of humor. He’s everything that was ever important to me and is important to me now. And it’s still hard to be married to him. We disagree about things on occasion, and when those times come I am so grateful that we have similar goals and priorities in our lives in relation to the gospel. At the end of the day, we both know that our home and marriage is centered on Christ. When we remember that, it becomes easier (or sometimes just less important) to see eye-to-eye.

A few years into our marriage, my husband and I encountered a major obstacle in our desire to start a family. We struggled through years of infertility, and I mean we really STRUGGLED. During those times, we relied heavily on the knowledge that we would be together forever because we were sealed in the temple. Additionally, the temple promises that we would one day have children (whether in this life or the life to come) brought us some comfort. Now we have 3 young, healthy and happy children and our lives are so different from what they were during those times of extreme trial. And still, our temple marriage is of utmost important to me. Seeing these tiny, beautiful little ones run around, I can’t imagine not having them with me forever. Because of my temple marriage, I don’t have to worry about that. The family is indeed of God, and I am so grateful that I will have mine with me forever.

Who you marry and where you choose to marry him will have a huge impact on your life. It may well be the biggest decision you will ever make. That’s not to scare you, but rather to encourage you to use dating as a time to find someone who makes your heart sing. Someone who lives the same kind of life that you live. Who wants the same things as you want. Don’t settle. Please, please, please don’t settle. Marry the right person in the right place and you will be well on your way to a joy-filled life.

Much love and best wishes for happiness!

How To: Store Kids Clothes

If you feel like you're swimming in an unorganized mess of baby and kid clothes, shoes and accessories, you're not alone! I was given so many clothes when I had my twins, for which I was very grateful. But having both a boy and a girl at the same time, I felt the need to get organized right away. I now have my kids' clothing storage down to a system and thought I'd share what works for us!

Every item of baby clothing, shoes and accessories that I own that is not currently in use is in a bin like this. I buy only clear bins of the same size so they are easy to label and I'm able to quickly and easily see most of what is inside.

I started by sorting all of my clothes by gender and size, then filling a bin with one gender/size, and then adding the next size up if it fit as well. I have two bins dedicated to things like bottles, pacifiers, burp clothes, bibs, baby spoons, swaddlers, receiving blankets, car seat inserts etc. I have also heard of people keeping a separate bins for things like white onesies and gender neutral clothes that could be used for either gender. I chose to split my items like that into boy and girl bins, since that fit my needs better.

Guys, I seriously have 13 bins that look like this. Six of them are in the garage in storage, since I don't need to access them often. Upstairs in the kids closet I keep 6 more: 1 bin that each of the kids will soon be growing into, and 1 bin for the clothes that each child is currently (or soon will be) growing out of. As soon as they grow out of something, I wash and fold it and put it in the appropriate bin. When they need new clothes, I go to the next size up bin and look at what I have in there before deciding if we need to buy more of that size/season. The last bin is downstairs in another closet and contains all the shoes my kids have grown out of. I think eventually I'll sort them by gender, but I don't have enough right now to need to do that.

It's a super simple system and doesn't take a ton of time and effort, as long as you keep up on it. If you are just starting, the initial cost for the bins might be a bit more than you expect (I usually pay $5-6 per bin) but I promise it will be worth it! Once you get started you should only need to buy a few bins/year, depending on how many kids and clothes you have.

Other things that I have learned about storing clothes/shoes:

• Throw away anything that has holes or stains
• Tie shoes together with elastics or twist ties to keep track of pairs when storing
• Every time your child grows out of a size, look through the clothes in that size and give anything they didn't wear to D.I., Goodwill, or someone in need.
• When others are giving you clothes, be selective about what you keep. If you doubt that you will ever put your child in it, DON'T KEEP IT!
• Like the above note, don't keep clothes that you dislike out of obligation. If it was a gift, maybe put it on your child once or twice when you know the giver will see it, then give it away.

Speaking of giving things away, I generally keep an empty diaper box in the closet where I can put clothes that I want to give away. If I find something in a closet that I dislike or that they wore once and it wasn't the right fit etc. then I throw it in the box. When the box fills up, I donate it.

The bins make it so easy to find anything I ever need. And as a bonus, when I'm done having children and I'm ready to sell or donate all my clothes, it will be SO easy to do!

Parenting Intentionally

Recently, my husband and I read this fantastic article (followed by this one) about how to create a positive family culture. It was a fantastic read and it really got us thinking about what we are teaching our kids, and whether it's intentional or not.

So while we were on a long road trip with the kids snoozing in the back of the van, we started discussing what we want our family culture to be like: what we want our priorities to be, what our expectations are, and what kind of people we want us (and our kids) to be. We talked for a long time and filled a page with ideas. We wrote down words like adventure, harmony, traditions, education, dreams and love. We talked about families we looked up to and specific things the did that we wanted to incorporate in our own family. We wrote down our ideas for family activities that could foster the type of culture we'd been talking about building. And then we took a big look at our list and tried to pick out the most important things. Eventually I'm hoping to take those main ideas and turn them into a functional family mission statement. But for now, at least we have a start.

Even though our mission statement is not complete, we've made some changes to our daily life because of the things we talked about. For example, one of the things we talked about wanting to be part of our family culture was physical activity. It's always been important to Forrest and I, and we want to pass our love of sports/fitness/outdoor activity to our kids. I do a lot of playing with the kids at home, wrestling, swimming, riding bikes etc. but Forrest is often at work when we do those kinds of activities. Then he would get home from work at 6, we'd eat dinner, give the kids a bath and then put them in bed. There wasn't much time for "family activities" in the evenings. However, our kids (Charlie and Caroline, to be more specific) lately have been beasts to get to sleep. We lay them down at their normal bedtime (around 7:30) and then sit and wait and tell them to get back in bed a million times until they finally fall asleep around 9 and we are exhausted and frustrated. So after our discussion and list-making exercise, we made an executive decision: after dinner, we have family activity time for an hour or two before bed. Now when Forrest gets home from work we eat dinner and then ride bikes, or go to the park, or go swimming, or go on a walk, or play outside with a ball. And then the kids go to bed at 9, completely exhausted and they fall right to sleep. No fight. No frustrated parents. And we got to spend time together as a family, doing things with our kids that are important to us.

The idea of parenting intentionally has changed the way I look at our day. The way I look at our activities, priorities and pastimes. I've gone from just surviving (which is how I often used to describe life with 3 kids under the age of 3) to doing things on purpose. I feel like a better parent because I'm thinking about what I want to teach my children ahead of time, and then when I find myself in a challenging situation I find I'm better able to react in a positive way. It's important for me to teach my children responsibility. So when they messes (many of you saw Charlie's otter pop mess in the bathroom the other day), I make more of an effort to have them help me clean it up, even when it would be way easier and faster for me to clean it up myself. (In that instance, I locked all 4 of us in the bathroom with a bag of baby wipes and gave each of the kids a wipe and told them to scrub the floors and walls until their wipe was dirty, then I gave them a new one. It took us a while, but the kids cleaned it all up.) I've also started giving my kids more chores. They LOVE helping with the laundry, washing dishes, unloading the dishwasher, etc. but for a while I just did it myself because it was easier and cleaner. Now they are responsible for putting their dishes into the dishwasher after meals (I have to be careful with this one because Charlie sometimes gets confused and throws his dishes away haha), loading and unloading the washer and dryer, putting their clothes away after I fold them, washing dishes, vacuuming and sweeping the floors. That's not to say that I never vacuum, sweep, or do laundry or dishes anymore. Most of the time when they are doing those chores, I'm helping them. But I try to make it clear that it's their responsibility and mommy is just helping.

I know we still have a lot of work to do. I imagine we'll be redefining our ideal family culture pretty regularly over the coming years. But for now, I can see the changes we've made starting to take effect. The kids LOVE family activity time, and every night at dinner they ask what family 'tivity we get to do that night. I've also noticed that now when they make a mess, they are instantly searching for a towel to wipe it up. And I'm taking that as a win!

Have any of you created a family mission statement? If so, I'd love to hear it!

Life is Like an Overgrown Currant Bush

Recently, my husband and I faced a serious disappointment. We had been working toward something for several years, and had gotten so close to fulfilling our dream. And then, after all of the hours and days and months and years of hard work, we got our answer. "No."

Really? No?! After everything we put into this, we get a no? It was really hard to face that gut-wrenching outcome. But that was our new reality. There was some anger and bitterness, and a few tears. And then my husband told me a story he had heard many years before of an overgrown currant bush, told by Hugh B. Brown back in 1973. His story, "The Currant Bush" from LDS.org, follows:

I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”

(You can read the whole story here.)

Elder Brown goes on to talk about a time many years later when he was serving in the Canadian Army. He was eligible for a promotion to General, and had been working toward that rank for 10 years. When he went in for the interview, he was told that he was completely qualified for the promotion but would not be receiving it due to his being a Mormon. In his following moments of bitterness, he remembered the conversation he'd had with his overgrown currant bush. Only this time, he was the bush that had grown so tall, and the Master, the gardener.

I have no doubt that there's something for us to learn from all of this. That lofty goal that we had and almost achieved must not have been part of His plan. And although it is so heartbreaking right now, I have faith that there will come a time when we will thank our Gardener for cutting us down.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

One month ago, I honestly felt like I was on the verge of a mental break-down. Staying home with three kids all day every day is no joke. And it's worse when Forrest is out of town or doesn't get to be home for the weekend. I often find myself feeling completely starved for adult interaction. I have a hard time focusing on anything for an extended period of time. Even when I'm away from the kids, I find myself constantly looking around and worrying about where they are and what kind of mortal danger they are in.

Not that anything is really that bad. I absolutely love my life and I adore my kids, but some days (LOTS of days, actually) are just really hard. I live for those precious hours of nap time and after the kids' bed time, but it always passes too quickly with me not getting to most of what I needed to get done. And two weeks ago I was at the end of my rope. Maybe it's because I knew vacation was right around the corner.

Oh blessed vacation. Up until the moment we left, I had never spent a night away from Juliet. I'd left the twins for a couple of nights here and there, but this was 8 completely kid-free days! Completely glorious. (A huge shout-out here to my amazing mother-in-law who took a week of her own vacation days to come and stay with my kids, and to my awesome sisters and parents who took them the last couple of days. Seriously, family is the best.) 

I expected to be a little sad when I left the kids, but walking out that front door and heading to the airport knowing it was just going to be the two of us for over a week felt oh-so-good. Clearly, it was a much needed break.

We flew into Washington DC and stayed with my little sister and her darling family in Virginia. We all drove to NYC for the weekend and had a total blast. We ate Cheesestakes in Philly, got hot-dogs from a street vendor, walked through Central Park, and rode the subway. (We also ate some incredible pizza, bagels and pretzels but I didn't want to make it sound like all we did was eat!) Totally worth the $60+ we had to pay in tolls to get there.

We returned to Virginia for a delicious Easter feast, then Forrest and I headed to North Carolina for a couple of days. Oh, the beauty. I love that place. We went on an early morning run in 65 degrees as the sun was coming up. Amazing. We ate some more really great food. Also amazing.

Back to Virginia and DC with miles upon miles of the most gorgeous cherry blossoms. I could have stared at them for days. Oh, and did I mention traffic? 

We had the best time. Traveling with my #1 makes my heart happy. And getting to visit with family makes it even better! At the end of 8 action-packed days, though, I was ready to return to my mental-breakdown causing children. 

Being home has been so great! I missed those three so much it made my heart ache. When I walked in to see them Charlie ran up the stairs and hugged me and for at least a minute kept saying "Hi! Hi mom! Hi! Hi!" It was the best. 

But seriously, I feel like a whole new person. Like mom 2.0. Moral of the story = vacations are good for the soul.

Juliet turns 1!

A few weeks ago we celebrated our baby girl turning 1! We had a small party at our place with family and Juliet was the star of the show. We ate Shepherd's Pie (her favorite food), opened presents (she loved putting the gift bags on her head), and ate cake and ice cream.

The cute birthday girl! Her favorite part of her birthday was getting to wear that crown on her head. *Not*

She loved her cake! I made it myself (the first one I've ever attempted) and though it's far from perfect, I was pretty happy with the way it turned out. 

She loved opening her presents and giving everything she pulled out to her daddy. She was easily distracted by the bags, boxes and tissue paper so it took a lot of re-focusing to get through this part! It was such a fun day, and the perfect way to celebrate our little lady!

A little about 1-year old Juliet

Likes:

Her crib/sleeping

Sucking on her fingers

Shepherd's Pie

Bikes

Babies

Yogurt

Chicken Nuggets

Dislikes:

Loud noises

Rough-housing

Not getting to go outside

Being left behind

Having her nose wiped or teeth looked at

Skills:

Climbing

Going up and down stairs

Clicking her tongue

Blowing raspberries

Walking

Jumping in her crib

Words:

Baby

Ball

Uh-oh

Mama

Dada

Ooh

Woah

I forgot what it was like to have a 1 year old

Juliet will be 1 in a week. I was trying to plan the small family party we're having for her and every time I asked Forrest his opinion he would respond that he had no idea what I was talking about because our baby IS NOT turning 1. We're in a little bit of denial about it.
With the twins I felt like every time they hit a new milestone I was SO excited! Cheering them on, helping them practice etc. But with Juliet I've wanted so much more for her to just stay little. She must have missed the memo. I'm sure she must not be that much different from what Charlie and Caroline were, but it seems like she does 100x more, and there's only 1 of her.
It wasn't that long ago that the twins were turning 1, but even in that short amount of time I honestly forgot what it was like to have a 1 year old. I've had to re-lock the door leading to the trash can. I have to remind myself to shut the bathroom doors when I leave. I've stopped sorting all of the toys into their various bins because they all end up on the floor in a pile anyway when Juliet enters the room. I step on oven mitts, saucepans and lids, and kitchen towels every single time I walk into the kitchen. I think I've put back everything under the sink in my bathroom at least 15 times this week. I've started storing toilet paper on the back of the toilet instead of on their rollers because she eats it, and started leaving the bathroom trash up there as well because if she can't eat fresh toilet paper she'll settle for the kind that has boogers blown into it. I can't turn my back on her or before I count to 5 she's at the top of both flights of stairs.
She disappears constantly and is still as silent as ever. I frequently have to search every room in our house before I find her hiding somewhere giggling quietly. She loves to tease me, and she knows exactly what she's doing. She loves when we throw the kids into the air in a blanket, and she waits so patiently. As soon as we put the blanket on the ground and say "it's Juliet's turn!" she crawls on there so fast and lays down on her back, as happy as a clam. She loves to clap and as soon as she hears someone clapping or the words to "If You're Happy And You Know It" she joins right in. She is a master peek-a-booer and if there's a blanket anywhere near her, you can bet it will be on her head in an instant. Her favorite word is "hi" and she thinks she's so funny. She loves her daddy and she never gets so excited as when he comes home from work.
It's near impossible to get her to sit still to change her clothes or her diaper. I swear the twins were never as wiggly as she is. I swear they couldn't climb onto the top of the toilet to get to the hidden toilet paper and trash cans when they were 1. I swear they didn't know how to go down stairs backwards before they turned 1. I swear they couldn't climb onto the couch or out of the highchair when they were 1. But I'm sure I'm wrong about it all. I just forgot what it was like to have a 1 year old.
Happy almost birthday, sweet baby girl.

Prayers From the Bathroom

I've never been a patient person. But since having children I think I've gotten a little better. In fact, at one point I took pride in being a very patient mom who never yelled at her kids, rarely got upset and didn't lose her temper. However the last few weeks, lets just call it JANUARY (the worst. Am I right?), I've noticed my patience wearing thinner by the day. The littlest things make me upset. I get frustrated with my kids to the point that I feel like I need to leave the room before I throttle them. I've lost all motivation to clean my house. I feels like I'm not getting any "me" time. It seems like my kids were crying nonstop (let's be honest, I have 3 kids under 3. Someone is ALWAYS crying at our house) and I just don't know how to deal with it. Except that I used to deal with it just fine. My husband comes home at the end of the day and I'm crabby with him too. I feel anxious all the time and have a hard time relaxing to fall asleep. It's the worst knowing that things that never used to bother you now get you all up in arms. And I didn't know why, at first.

A while back there was a family home evening lesson at my parents' home about prayer. They discussed the importance of praying, when and how you should pray. And then they drew pictures of themselves praying, or of times they had experienced the power of prayer. Although I wasn't there for the lesson, I heard about it later and I will never forget what my sweet mother drew. It was a picture of the bathroom. We all laughed about it and asked her if that bathroom was because she had prayed for 20+ years that my dad would finish the second bathroom in her house, but she quietly said no. She raised five girls, and when we were growing up my dad travelled extensively for his work. There were years where he was away more than he was home. And so often, my mom was left at home with all of us. The picture of the bathroom, she said, represented her sanctuary. It was the only quiet place in our home where she could go to pray. To shut out the world and spend a few peaceful moments on her knees pleading with her Heavenly Father to help lighten her burden. Just the thought of my beautiful mother in that situation brings tears to my eyes. Tears of gratitude at everything she did (and continues to do) for us, and for a loving Father in Heaven who always answers out prayers. And then some tears in knowing that I need to be better.

My mom's example, set so many years ago, became the perfect answer to my struggles today. "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me" - Philippians 4:13. Sometimes life seems hard to bear. Sometimes mopping the floor for the 58th time that day feels like the last straw. And if it was only me, all alone, it very well may be. But I'm not alone. We're not alone. NO ONE is alone. Our Father in Heaven is there. He loves us and He wants so badly to help us. We just have to ask.

Offering prayer invites the Spirit, and the Spirit helps keep me calm and level-headed. When the Spirit is in our home and in my heart, I am an infinitely better mom. I think it's time I start offering prayers from the bathroom.

Tales of a Locked-In Mommy

Once upon a time (a couple of days ago), I was home with my sweet little girls. Charlie was having a sleep-over at his cousin's house. It was a weekday, so Forrest was at work. It was almost lunchtime, and Caroline and I were playing downstairs. Juliet woke up from her nap, so I went upstairs to get her. She had a full diaper, so I stayed up to change her. While I was doing that, Care Bear made her way upstairs too and was playing in the hallway for a minute or two before coming in the room and shutting the door. Then she jiggled the door handle and laughed and said "Me me lock it, mommy!" (Remember she calls herself "me me".) I didn't really think anything of it at first. I just thought she probably was struggling to get the door open but it didn't even occur to me that she had actually locked it until I tried the handle and it was indeed locked.
Here's the backstory on the door. When we bought our home and moved in, I noticed that the door to Juliet's room had key lock on the handle. It locked from the inside. I assumed that one of the many keys we'd been given at move-in fit that door. Well when Caroline learned how to work those twist locks on doors, she accidentally locked herself in Juliet's room and couldn't get out. So I searched and searched and tried every key in the house in the door and not a single one fit. So in a panic I called Forrest and he sent me some YouTube videos about how to use a credit card to unlock a door. I tried it and it worked pretty quickly. Then a few months later, Caroline started napping in Juliet's room and was consistently locking herself in, so I turned the doorknob around so it locked from the outside instead. It solved our problem at the time.
Well this time, it created a much BIGGER problem. There I was, in the room with a hungry baby and a toddler who was pleased as punch that she had locked the door, and I had no cell phone on me. No key to the door. Nothing.
My first reaction (after freaking out a little and saying a prayer with Caroline) was to dig in a drawer in the closet and find an old credit card to try my previously learned skill of unlocking the door with a card. But every angle I tried failed. I was on the wrong side of the door.
Next I attempted to pry the door from it's hinges, but I didn't have the right tools and the hinges were extremely tight.
My next move was to open the window and frantically look around, hoping that I would see a neighbor or somebody outside that I could call to for help (in the middle of January in below-freezing conditions).
For nearly an hour I rotated between these three activities in a desperate attempt to get us out of there. Meanwhile Caroline sat laying on the changing table pretending to take a nap, giggling, and saying "Mommy, me me lock it. Don't try it mommy. Door locked." And Juliet played happily, though she was getting fussier and hungrier every minute.
When I finally realized that neither of these three plans was going to work, I started scheming to pull out the window screen, climb out onto the roof and jump to the ground. I think I actually would have done that, too, if I'd had a way to get back into the house. Our front door was locked, back door locked, and although I could have used our code to get into the garage, the interior door to the garage was also locked. My next thought was that I could jump out and run to a neighbors house to borrow their phone to call Forrest, but his cell phone doesn't work in his office building and I don't have his office number memorized. Also the thought of leaving my kids alone in a room on the top floor with the window wide open was terrifying. Let alone the leap I'd have to make from the roof onto the grass below. So I ruled that out.
Finally I came to the realization that there was only one way I was going to get out of that mess. I had to kick the door down. I moved the girls back away from the door and got a little excited that I would actually be able to test my strength against a solid(ish) door. And then I kicked the door in. It took one solid kick to get the door on the other side of the frame, and then another good 2 or 3 kicks to get a gap big enough for me to get all three of us out through.
The whole time I was kicking the girls were just crying. Caroline kept telling me not to break the door, and Juliet had no clue what was going on except that there was a loud noise and Caroline was crying.
Once we finally got out, I called Forrest to tell him my tale. He just laughed and said it's a good thing I'm a she-hulk. Then he came home to take the door off the hinges and make the room accessible again. My dad came later and helped get the doorframe back in place. The door, on the other hand, is unfixable. I tried to be gentle (or at least as "gentle" as you can be when you're breaking down a door) but apparently that didn't help much.

Here she is in all her glory.

On the bright side, though, I felt like a Bona Fide Special Agent. You can call me Annie Walker, if you'd like.

2015 Favorites

Every year at Christmas the girls in my family do a "favorite things" gift exchange. We all pick a favorite thing of ours and buy 5 of them and then everyone gets one of every favorite thing. I LOVE this tradition. It's so fun to be introduced to new things, and I always love what everyone else gives!
As I was thinking of what to give as my favorite thing, I thought about all of the things I feel like I can't live without. Many of them aren't gift-able, but I'll share my favorites anyway!

1. Amazon Prime. This is without a doubt my favorite invention of all time. Free 2-day shipping on nearly any item you could imagine? Generally I can't find items on Amazon at a better price than I could in the store, AND I don't have to go shopping at odd hours when my husband is home with the kids or drag the kids along with me. Wins all around!
2. Netflix. I don't get a ton of adult interaction around here, so watching TV helps me feel more like a real person and less like a 2-year old. I have rules for myself that I don't watch TV (or get on social media etc.) when my kids are awake, but during naptime my favorite thing to do is watch a show on the laptop while I clean up the first half of the days' messes. It does seem kind of funny that we pay extra for Netflix when Prime comes with instant streaming too.. but I prefer the shows that Netflix offers, and their interface is simpler too.
3. Macey's Anywhere Online Shopping. My life changed drastically for the better once I learned about this new grocery shopping option. I go online, select the foods that I want to buy and pay for it, and then select a pick-up time for later that day (or another day if you want it) and then I drive to the store, text them when I arrive, and they bring my groceries to me and load them in the car. SERIOUSLY?! This is a game changer, folks. Never again will I drag 3 screaming children through the aisles of a grocery store by myself. Best. Invention. Ever.
4. LUSH body bar. This is what I ended up gifting, because it fit our price range and it was the easiest thing to give to other people. I actually hadn't ever tried one, or even heard of them, until just before Christmas when a friend suggested them. But oh man, are they awesome! They smell fantastic and make awesome massagers. Just walking into that LUSH store, I wanted to buy nearly everything I saw!
5. Zap Cloth. My sister gifted this as her favorite thing, and it instantly became a favorite of mine too! It's a large square cloth that is free of any cleaners, chemicals, or anything else (it's literally just a cloth), but it cleans just about anything without leaving any streaks or residue. I've used it on my counters, walls, mirrors, glass, kitchen table and leather couches and it has worked wonders. I just get it wet, ring it out, and wipe away. Honestly, I don't even use Windex on my mirrors or windows anymore, just the wet Zap Cloth! I've already washed it about 3-4 times because I use it that often. My sister said hers has lasted over a year, and they're only $6! Super awesome chemical free way to clean.
6. Ameo Essential Oils and Diffuser. This was a Christmas gift as well, and I love it! I love that you can diffuse straight from the bottle and it makes your house smell SOOOO good. Also, when Juliet was sick a few weeks ago I was able to put some oils in the diffuser and put it in her room all night to help her sleep a little better.
7. Fleece Lined Leggings. So warm, so cozy, and they look cute too! With my 3 littles I spend so much time on the ground playing that I've worn holes in the knees of most of my favorite jeans (boo!), so leggings with a long tunic are my new everyday clothes.
8. Kodiak Pancake Mix. We buy the huge box at Costco. Whole wheat, just add water. It's a simple, super fast meal that my kids love and it doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Also, it's good for you! We serve them with frozen blueberries on top and pure maple syrup so I feel good about what my kids are eating, and it's made completely from things I have on-hand. This is my go-to meal when I don't have anything planned ahead of time.
9. Family Yearbooks. A friend mentioned a while ago how she makes family yearbooks with pictures and stories from the year and prints them in hardback to keep on their bookshelves. I loved the idea, so I started doing something similar. I've used Shutterfly, and I have been happy with their quality and they always have good promotions going. My first yearbook I made covered the years 2007-2012, the year Forrest and I met up until the year before the twins were born. Next I made one for 2013, which was the year Charlie and Caroline were born. I've been working on my next book, which I think will include both 2014-2015. I love looking back at photographs and journals and remembering everything that happened, and I think my kids will love these books as they grow up just as much as I will!

Though I hate to end on an odd number, I think that pretty well sums up my favorites of 2015. Hope you find something new that you can love as much as I do!

What Most People Don't Think About

When you have a child with any sort of special needs, there are things you have to think about that would never even cross your mind otherwise. Since becoming mommy to Charlie, I've found that I now think in a different way. The things I think about are different than other people.

For example, the other day we were driving down the road after dark. We were stopped at a light, and Charlie started pointing out the window and yelling excitedly, "Mom! A pumpkin!! Mom! Pumpkin!". I looked out the window to where he was pointing, and I searched for the pumpkin. But it's December, and there were no pumpkins in sight. Then I decided to try and see things from his point of view, so I squinted my eyes to blurr my vision and I looked around again. This time I noticed a building with three downward facing lights with orange-tinted bulbs in them. The orangey light that was cast down on the side of the building formed a sort of round ball. With my eyes squinted, I could see how that ball of orange light could look like a pumpkin. So I explained to him that it looked like a pumpkin from a distance, but it was actually just a light. If we had been able to get up close to the building, I would have taken him right up to it to look closely at it so that he could see what was making that shape.
Every single time he thinks he sees something from the car or out our window or on the TV, I have to try really hard to figure out what it is that he's looking at and what about it makes him think that he's seeing what he tells me he's seeing. Sometimes, like with the orange light and the pumpkin, I can figure it out. But I'm still learning to try and see things the way he does.

 

Other things that I think about on an almost daily basis:
Every day I try to come up with a new sensory experience for Charlie. Children with vision impairments generally have other heightened senses like hearing, touch, and taste. Because of that, Charlie has some sensory aversions. Playing in the corn-boxes during the fall, for example, is a nightmare for him. Also, if he falls down in grass, he won't use his hands to help himself up again because he refuses to touch the grass. Same with snow. He loves play-doh as long as I use it to form a road, and then he can drive his car on top of a road. But he won't actually touch the play-doh.
Everywhere I go I take an extra pair of sunglasses for him, a hat, and sunscreen.
Every time we get in the car I think about where we are driving and which direction the sun will be coming from. Then I try to position Charlie as far away from the sun as possible.
At every meal I pick out a bowl or plate for his food. And then I pick out a utensil. But I can't pick just any utensil, I pick out one in a color that contrasts the color of his plate or bowl. For example, if he has a green plate, I try to pick out a red spoon. I think this is more me being crazy than Charlie actually needing it, but if I pick a green spoon for his green bowl, I worry that he won't be able to see it. One day we were playing outside and I threw a green ball to him and it landed behind him on the green grass. He turned around and scanned the ground for a minute, and then he actually found the green ball! I know it's a really small thing, but that was a very proud mommy moment for me.
When we walk into a restaurant, or go to any new place, I check the lighting to see if I need to put darker sunglasses on Charlie or if there's a better location for him to sit or play.
Whenever we go on walks or to a new place, I try to remember to grab his cane.
While walking outside, I have to remind Charlie when we are approaching a curb, a bump, a drop off etc. Even changes in color or texture can throw him off in unfamiliar environments.
When Charlie asks where something is, I am having to retrain myself to not just point and say "over there". I need to say "it's by the toy box" or "under the chair". That also poses some more difficulties, since he doesn't understand most directional words yet. We are trying to teach him "under" "behind" "inside of" etc.
We have so many therapies, toddler groups, doctors appointments etc. to keep up with. I've had to resort to a much larger and more visible calendar to keep track of it all. He has therapy 3x a month; toddler group (with other visually impaired children his age) once a week; visits with the Geneticist every year, Ophthalmologist every 6 months, and the Dermatologist (for cancer screenings and eczema) every year.
I also have to think about not favoring him. Not that I love him any more than I love his sisters, because I don't, but I find myself wanting to go easier on him. Wanting to help him more than I help them. It takes a conscious effort on my part not to do that.
Then there's trying to figure out how to respond when people comment on his hair. Sometimes I just laugh and say, "He is very unique." Other times I mention that he has Albinism, which I nearly always have to follow up with "albino" for others to understand what I mean. Sometimes I just ignore the comments altogether. It depends on my mood and the situation.
Forrest and I also have regular conversations about how we can teach him everything we want him to know. Forrest wants him to learn karate or some sort of martial art, in addition to the basics of fighting so that he can be confident that he can defend himself if he needs to. I'm on board with that. We've also started a collection of books and movies about people who have overcome challenges to be successful. Some of the movies we've started with are Finding Nemo, Frozen (mostly because Elsa has white hair), Mulan, Meet the Robinsons, and Monsters University. Being a mom is a lot of work and a lot of pressure, but I feel some added pressure to teach Charlie that he can do anything he wants to do. He needs to know that there are ways to work around his impairment, and I am trying my hardest to give him all the tools he needs to be able to do that.
Additionally I think a lot about his future. Will he want to learn brail? What sports will he want to play? What if he chooses baseball? (I'm terrified that he will choose baseball, actually.) Will he be able to drive a car? (At his most recent eye appointment, his doctor said he thinks Charlie will be able to drive. YAY!!!)
I also think about ways we can develop his current talents and interests. Music in particular. I hope he will want to play an instrument, or sing, or do something musical.

I have learned so much since becoming Charlie's mom, and I'm so thankful for him and that my mind is expanding and growing in ways that I didn't even know it could. But as much as my mind grows for him, my heart grows infinitely more. There's something so special about Charlie, and I'm so grateful that he's mine.

Things I Want to Remember

Charlie and Caroline refer to themselves as "me me"

They call all other children and toys "friends"

They are obsessed with the Magic School Bus

Charlie calls Juliet "Ju-et" or "JuJuJee"
Every morning we eat oatmeal with blueberries in it. Charlie and Caroline have this little battle that they do constantly throughout the day where one of them yells "Oatmeal blueys a night!" and the other one yells back "Oatmeal blueys a breakwast!" over and over again. I don't fully understand it but they think it's hilarious.

When care bear is cold she says "colder colder!"

When Charlie is cold he covers his eyes with his hands

Every time I pick up Juliet, she pats me twice on the back

Charlie's favorite food is macaroni and cheese. When I ask him what he wants to eat, regardless of what meal it is, he responds excitedly "Mac and cheese!"

Caroline was playing with a little M&M statue at her grandma's house. The M&M was in a recliner watching tv with a remote stuck in his hand. Care bear tried for at least 5 minutes to get that remote out of his hand, when finally she got so exasperated and she said to him in her most concerned voice "friend, me me need that remote!"
Charlie loves to tell me what color things are, and he loves to name things around our house. If he doesn't know the name for something he calls it "this" or "that" until I teach him what it's called. He is such an eager learner.

Juliet still sucks on those two middle fingers constantly

One day I took Caroline to the bathroom and left her in there to go potty while I was feeding Jules. She yelled in to me "mommy, all done, eee wipe!" (She prefaces lots of words with eee). I told her to wait because I was feeding her sister. Then she yelled to Charlie "Jawj, eee wipe!" (She calls him Jawj). I immediately jumped up and ran into the bathroom to see Care Bear leaning forward on the potty, Charlie standing next to her with a wad of toilet paper in his hand and trying to wipe her bum. 

Charlie calls me "momeem"
Every morning when Caroline sees Juliet she yells "Hi Sweet Pea!"

Juliet LOVES food in any form. When she sees food she grunts and won't take her eyes off of it until she gets some
Charlie had brought two remotes to the Wii upstairs. Caroline found them and said they needed to go back downstairs. I asked her if she would take them and she looked up at me and said, as serious as could be, "No mom, can't. Too heavy."
Char loves music. He's been able to sing the ABC's from start to finish for almost a year. He sings to himself constantly. His current favorite songs are "Jingle Bells," "Wheels on the Bus," "Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam" and the Fire truck song.
Anytime Caroline sees a wrapped gift, she gets so excited and yells "Happy birthday to Care Bear!"

My favorite things about each of my children:
Charlie - he just LOVES. He dotes on Juliet, he adores Caroline, and he smothers Forrest and I with hugs and kisses constantly. He always wants to be holding my hand, and he's always my little pal. And my very most favorite thing about him is how much he loves to laugh. He always has! Rough-housing and being tickled are his all time favorite pass times. He has the most contagious laugh and people around him can't help but love him. He draws attention everywhere he goes, and I'm absolutely certain his face is in photographs in homes all over the world (foreigners seem to especially love him and beg to take his picture).
Caroline - She is just so happy. All of the time. When she wakes up from her naps and in the morning, she wraps her arms so tight around my neck and yells "Hi mom!" (She doesn't ever just say anything - it's always a yell.) She is so full of energy and just bursting with excitement about life. When she does something she likes, she yells "That so fun!" Even when she gets scared she giggles and says "That scare me!". She loves everyone and she loves life.
Juliet - My little Jules is the most content baby ever. She never makes a peep, she just crawls around and eats anything she can find on the floor. She is the easiest baby ever to get to sleep. She never cries when I lay her down and she just sticks her fingers in her mouth, rolls over onto her belly and falls right to sleep.
 

Oh how I love these little people of mine.

Bad Mom Days

Yesterday was one of those days. I spent way too much time on my phone, I didn't do any dishes or clean up after any meal. I let the TV babysit my children (or at least my one child who will actually sit and watch it.. but still, taking care of 2 kids is infinitely easier than taking care of 3). We all stayed in our pajamas and didn't even brush our teeth. I took a nap while my children were awake and playing near me, despite Charlie's best efforts to get me to play blocks with him. I attempted to make dinner but burned it to a crisp. When Forrest finally walked through the door at 7 PM and asked me how my day was, I felt ashamed. "I was a bad mom today," I told him. He assured me that I wasn't a bad mom and that I was doing the best that I could.

That night after the kids were in bed, I sat there thinking about that. About my bad mom day, and about how I was doing the best that I could. But that started bugging me. Was I really? Because seriously, if what I just described was "doing the best that I can" then my children are doomed. I do think that sometimes I (and maybe moms in general) hold myself to unreal expectations that my kids will be fully dressed and hair done by 9 AM, we will eat healthy and delicious meals 3 times a day (all prepared by me), our house will remain clean and our laundry will always be clean and put away, we watch minimal TV and we spend our day reading books, experiencing new sensory play, and learning our shapes, numbers, colors, and alphabet. Some days that happens, and it is usually my goal. But then there are just those days.

I feel like social media has influenced parenting, and particularly motherhood, immensely. So much sharing of so much good is wonderful, but it definitely plays a role in making mothers feel inadequate. It's not right, but it's only human to compare ourselves to others. When I have a bad mom day, I start comparing myself to Penny down the street who has 8 kids under the age of 5 and has a clean house and children who are dressed with hair done and who seem absolutely perfect. But then there's the other side to social media and it's influence on parenting. There's the side that says that "this is real life" in reference my bad mom day activities. It's the side that is trying to make us all feel better by telling us that it's unrealistic to have a clean house and happy children and healthy meals. And that it's ok to spend all day watching TV and scrolling through Facebook because motherhood is hard, and we all deserve a break. But it's not ok for me.

Me "doing the best that I can" means that I'm at least giving an effort. I know that I won't always live up to my perfect expectations, but I'm not ok with lowering my expectations so that I can meet them every day with minimal effort. My kids deserve better than that.

I know I'll still have bad mom days. And probably a lot more of them than I would like. But the important part is that that's not the norm. "Real life" to me is laughing with my kids, reading them stories and giving them kisses. It's watching them grow and learn and amaze me every single day. Bad mom days are a part of that life, but only a very small part.

My Name is Mommy

As I've gone through the various seasons of my life, I've found that my identity changes depending on what is important to me at any given time. Of course there are the constant core values that have always defined my innermost self, but my outward identity has varied over the years. As a child I was a tomboy. That tomboy grew into a teenager who identified herself as an athlete. After high school the athlete label followed me into college, where I ran on the university's track team. For so many years, that was who I was. I was a runner. An athlete. I practiced 5 or 6 days a week 8 months out of the year. My weekends were spent at track meets, my evenings in the weight room. When people asked me what my hobbies were, I easily responded that I ran track. My hobby was exercise.

And then everything changed. One week after graduating from college, I competed in my final track meet. There was so much suspense leading up to it and the meet itself was fantastic. I set new personal records, and our team did well. And then it was over. I cried, of course. Just like I'd cried in high school after my soccer team lost our semi-final match in penalty kicks, and I knew that was the last time I would ever really play soccer like that. I still play soccer occasionally, just like I still run, but it's not the same. It will never be the same again. And that makes me sad.

In the case of track, it didn't really hit me that it was over until a few months after the season ended. When all of my friends (and even my husband) were starting school again, but I wasn't. When my old teammates started practicing again, but I didn't. I'd get texts from friends saying things like "you are so lucky you didn't have to do those 800's with us today!" and I never thought I'd miss 800's. But in moments like that, I did. I quickly tired of staying home and watching TV, so I started volunteering at a local high school and soon got a job as the head soccer coach and assistant track coach. Coaching helped fill the void. When I'd go watch my old teammates at track meets, the fact that I was now coaching helped me not miss it so bad.

Coaching helped me find a new identity. I wasn't a college athlete anymore, my new name was Coach. And I loved it. When I got pregnant with the twins, I was sad to leave that title behind. But with the sad came so much excitement over my new name: Mommy.

I quickly realized that being a stay-at-home-mom is hard. Really, really hard, actually. But in the midst of the hard, is the overwhelming wonderful. There are times as a mom to my 3 little munchkins that I feel like I don't really know who I am. When people ask me what my hobbies are now, I don't know what to say. If I answered honestly, I would have to say my hobbies are watching Parenthood, Gilmore Girls and Psych during naptime. But somehow I don't think that's the answer they're looking for. I could also say my hobbies are changing diapers, making dinner, doing dishes, washing and folding pile after pile of laundry. But again, not the right answer. I used to like reading, crafting, hiking, and running. But who in the world honestly has time for all of those things when you are raising little children? Maybe superwoman does. I don't.

It can be so easy to lose my identity in the monotony of the everyday. But it's all about perspective. When I think of things from a more eternal point-of-view, I know there is nothing else I'd rather be doing. I wouldn't trade all of the reading, hiking, running, or underwater basket weaving in the world for this opportunity to raise my children. My new name is Mommy, and it's my favorite name yet.

Lessons in Parenting

Little M and Uncle Forrest

 

When I was newly married, we lived near one of my older sisters. She was the first of us to have any kids, and at the time that this story takes place she had a two-year-old daughter and a newborn little girl. She would come into town to do some shopping and if I wasn't in class or at track practice, I would tag along and play with the girls while she shopped. On one of these occasions, we were driving from one place to another. My sister was driving, I was in the passenger seat and the girls were, of course, in the back. Sweet little M, the two-year-old, was really upset about something and she was crying and kicking and screaming and crying. My sister asked her several times to relax, to which M finally got so exasperated that she threw her sippy cup in the direction of her mom. My sister immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road, opened her door, and marched around to the other side to talk to her daughter. I looked back at little M who's face was covered in tears. She looked absolutely terrified. I whispered to her "Uh oh, you're really in trouble now!" As my sister opened the door to talk to her tantrum-throwing, sobbing child, I fully expected her to get a swat on the bottom and a good talking to. But what my sister said and did that day is something I will never, ever forget. She climbed into the back seat next to her daughter, put her arms around her and gently said, "Little M, I love you so much. Will you please tell me what is wrong?" I don't remember what exactly it was that was upsetting M. Something small and silly to us, probably, but I do remember that after her mom acknowledged her and tried to resolve what was bothering her, there was far less crying and tantrum throwing for the remainder of the drive.

Now, 6 years later, I find myself in a position similar to my sister's all too often. Whether we are in the car, at home, or visiting some friends, it seems like somebody is always crying or upset about something. Though I'm not always successful, I try to repress my feelings of frustration and show instead my love and concern for my children as I try to help them overcome the challenge (however small and silly it may be) that they are facing.

I am so grateful for my sister and the example that she showed me that day. I hope that one day I can be half the mom that she is!

Bandaids and Blessings

My little lady has been such a trooper the last two weeks. She is so brave. Her most recent surgery went very well (I actually feel strange calling it a surgery since it's only a pinky finger, but that's what the surgeon and hospital call it so we'll go with that) and she still has a pinky, fully formed. There was some concern that the fingernail wouldn't ever grow back because there was some significant damage done to the nail bed. The surgeon worked some magic though, and was able to reform it all quite successfully. We are so grateful and our prayers have been answered. 

After surgery Caroline came home with instructions to keep her left hand completely dry and if it got wet at all the "bandaid" as she calls it needed to be replaced. We did great at keeping it dry for the first little while. But trying to keep a rambunctious two year old out of water is really hard, particularly when you go on a beautiful family hike that ends at a waterfall and all her cousins are playing
in it. She "fell" in not three minutes after we arrived and soaked her bandaid through. Changing the bandage that night was a nightmare. She was overtired, in an unfamiliar environment, and probably in a little bit of pain. As I changed the bandage I tried my best to avoid looking at her finger. I get woozy that way. It was traumatic for everyone involved. 

Only a few days after that traumatic event, the new bandage fell off in the car. Apparently in my hurry to finish the awful affair I hadn't put it on very well. Care bear was in the car holding the bandage on her finger and crying "no touch!" "No touch a bandaid!" I was heartbroken as we had to explain that we had to again replace the bandage on her sore little finger. But we did it. This time Forrest sat on top of her and held her hand flat for me. And she miraculously did great. She whimpered and cried a little, but it was nothing like it had been the day before. And this time, I actually braved a good look at it. And I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't black. It was pink, all in one piece, and somewhat normal looking. Not covered in blood, not crooked. Just bruised with a funny looking finger nail. It was such a relief to see that.

That was last night. And then today during bath time, the silly girl bit a whole in the bag that I'd taped over her bandaid and it filled with water. She knew right away that we'd have to replace it again, and though I could tell she didn't want me to, she laid down and put her hand out and let me do it, all the while saying "a brave a finger." She didn't make a sound other than telling us how brave she was being. Again I got a good look at her finger, and so did she. I left the bandage off for a minute to dry and she practiced bending and straightening her finger and even dared to touch it. She didn't flinch when I touched it, and she hadn't even had any pain medicine all day. It was wonderful and left me feeling so much better about things. I know she has a long way to go until she's back to normal, but things are improving steadily and we are so grateful! 

As for the blessings, they are two-fold. First, we had a wonderful weekend visiting my sister and her sweet new baby girl as she was given a name and a blessing. It was so refreshing, exciting and relaxing to spend a weekend away from the world and visiting with family. We hiked, talked, visited and ate. It was the perfect weekend. And second, we have been so blessed and overwhelmed by the love and kindness that has been shown to our sweet little Care Bear over the last two weeks. Friends, family and complete strangers have sent gifts, cards, prayers, treats and love. We feel so blessed and so thankful. Thank you, all of you, for your kindness toward our family. We love you! 

Operation: Save the Pinky

Yesterday started out like any other Wednesday. The kids woke up earlier than I would like, and we took our time eating breakfast and getting dressed and ready for the day. At 10 we went to the church for a toddler music class that the kids just love. We were about 10 minutes late, per the norm. Charlie and Caroline sang their little hearts out. They did the actions and had a grand time. At the end of the class we were all playing around and talking. Juliet was sitting at my feet and the twins were over playing behind the piano. And then they weren't. So I walked out the door to find them, and I heard her. Poor little Caroline was screaming at the top of her lungs. I wasn't too alarmed because that happens 10 times a day around our house, so I found her with some other kids in one of the rooms. And I saw that her poor little hand was stuck in the door. It must have been slammed shut on her. My heart broke (I thought) and I ran over and opened the door, expecting to see an angry and bruised purple finger. But I didn't. I saw gushes of blood. I saw the end of her little finger barely hanging on to the rest of her hand by some skin. Just writing about it is making me sick all over again.

I panicked. I froze. I couldn't even pick her up. Thankfully another superhero of a mom was in there and quickly rushed Care into the bathroom and wrapped her finger in paper towels. There was blood all over the floor. In my delirium I didn't even know what to do, so I started wiping the blood off the floor. That mom had the good sense to clue me in that we needed to get Caroline to a doctor right away. We grabbed the other kids and rushed to the car. It's a good think the finger was covered up because I couldn't have stomached looking at it again. Once again, in my delirium, I thought it would be a good idea to take her to Urgent Care. They took one look and sent us to the nearest ER.

The same awesome friend who had helped Caroline at the church and driven us to the hospital took Juliet and Charlie home with her. Did I mention she's 9 months pregnant and has a 2 year old son, too? Rockstar friend right there. Forrest met us (me and Caroline, and my sister and nephew) at the ER. By the time we got in and saw a doctor, it had been about 45 minutes. All the while we were in the car and at the Urgent Care, Caroline was shaking and sobbing. "A sting!" "A finger, a door, a ouchie!" and I was trying to keep it together. Once we got to the ER though the immediate shock must have worn off and she was just somber. No tears. No shaking. Just being little and brave. When the doctor examined her finger, he immediately started discussing the likelihood of amputation. That shook me a little. I hadn't even considered the possibility that she would lose part of her finger. They finally got her some pain killer, did some x-rays, and then moved us to a room where they would attempt to reattach the end of her tiny little pinky finger.

When they started the surgery I had to step out. My mom was there with me and she walked the halls with me while we waited. They had given Caroline some anesthetic but she was still pretty awake and when they started hooking her up to machines she was crying "mommy! Mommy!" I couldn't handle it. Forrest stayed by her side the entire time as they stitched her back together. As I waited I had to keep reminding myself that it is just a finger. Even if she loses it, it's just a finger. But the thought of my baby girl being in so much pain just wrenched my heart out.

Once they finished, the doctor said it had come back together well and he was hopeful that she might be able to keep her finger. He gave it a 50% chance of success. We go next week to see a hand surgeon (who knew there was such a thing?!) and he should be able to tell us whether or not it will need to be amputated. My sweet little Care Bear was such a trooper through all of it, and she still is. As she was waking up from the anesthesia, I got to just sit on the hospital bed and hold her in my arms. Despite the trauma of the day, sitting there and holding my sweet sleeping little girl was a beautiful moment filled with peace.

When she woke up this morning she looked at the cast on her hand and said "A finger, a door, a ouchie" again. Besides the constant pain killers and antibiotics, though, she's been completely normal (albeit a little bit sad that she can't carry anything in her left hand for the time being). So now we just wait. Wait and pray that her tiny little pinky finger will heal and not cause her any lasting pain. If ever there was a time to just sit and watch movies all day, this is it.

In times like these I am always blown away and extremely humbled by the amount of love that others show to us. Friends and family that come to visit, bring meals and gifts to the hospital and to our home, take care of the other kids for us and offer countless prayers in our little Caroline's behalf. I'm so grateful. She is one loved little girl!

Veggie Time

I am so super grateful that the twins aren't picky eaters. Of course they have their favorite foods and I have to bribe them with applesauce to get them to finish their dinner, but all in all they do pretty well. Charlie is a bit more resistant to vegetables than I would like, though, and Caroline is a bit of a treat-aholic. So I've been trying a few strategies lately to get them to eat more veggies and I've found a few that have worked really well for us!

1. Cook veggies into rice. My kids LOVE rice. Especially Char. So a couple of times a week I pull out every vegetable in my fridge, chop them up, sauté them in olive oil then add some rice and chicken broth and bake it until it's soft. Usually it ends up that the veggie to rice ratio is about 3-1, seriously packed with some vegetable goodness. And the kids gobble it up! Charlie averages about 3 bowls of rice each time I make it. I can throw any veggie into it that he would normally gag on and he downs it anyway. Some of my favorite add-ins are squash, mushrooms, celery, eggplant, tomatoes, and carrots. But really, anything goes and it's always delish.
2. Cut out pre-dinner snacks. While I'm making dinner, the kids are usually running around destroying the house, sitting on the baby, or pulling one another's hair. One way I used to help tame the madness was to give them applesauce, crackers, goldfish etc. to keep them occupied while I cooked. And then, surprise! They weren't hungry for dinner. At least not hungry enough to eat the vegetables on their plate. Now, I try to offer them bites of the veggies I am cutting up and using for our meal. Surprisingly, I have found that they love raw potato, zucchini, and cucumber. I don't mind letting them snack before dinner if it's on vegetables that are going to be on their plate anyway!
3. Serve the vegetables first. I used to try to put everything on their plate at once and cross my fingers and hope that they would eat their vegetables. Usually, though, they go right for the fruit, grains and dairy (and sometimes the meat) and the veggies get thrown on the ground. When they haven't snacked before dinner, though, and sit down super hungry, it's the perfect time to throw a plate filled with colorful and delicious vegetables down in front of them. The clean their plates nearly every time. Success!
4. If I don't get the vegetables to them before the rest of the meal, then they have started responding well to bribery, as I mentioned before. Not bribing with sweets or candy or cake or anything, but bribing with something that I'm ok with them eating more of. Example: the other day we had a fruit salad with our dinner. I put everything on their plate, and they ate the fruit salad first, followed by the rest of the meal but leaving some vegetables on their plate. When they inevitably ask for more fruit, it has worked well for us to say "You can definitely have more fruit, you just have to finish your vegetables first." It took a few tries to make it work. Usually Charlie is super eager and so he finishes his vegetables and gets more fruit right away, and Caroline looks longingly at the fruit before finally deciding it's worth eating the vegetables for. We have had so much less food wasted with this tactic!

Clearly I'm no expert. But this is what has been working for us lately. And as an added bonus, when I'm focused on making sure my kids get plenty of vegetables, I eat more too! Anybody want to share any other secrets to getting toddlers to eat more vegetables?

So long, 7:00 bedtime.

Charlie started climbing out of his crib when he was 17 months old. He didn't just climb out once and then not do it again, like a lot of kids do. Once he figured out he could escape there was no keeping him in. So we promptly took the bottom out of his crib and put his mattress flat on the ground to buy us a few more inches and a little more time. That worked for a couple of months until he figured out that he could tip his entire crib over and use the slats as monkey-bars. By the time he had that down, Caroline had finally gotten brave enough to climb out of her crib on a consistent basis. They were about 20 months old at this point. So we heeded the advice of some friends with much older twins and turned their cribs upside down on top of them like cages. At naptime and bedtime we would lift one side of the crib up off the ground, they would get on hands and knees and climb right in. It wasn't a perfect solution but it at least kept the madness contained to their cages. That lasted until just before they turned 2.

One day we had the brilliant idea to try out toddler beds. Sheer genius, I tell you (insert eye roll here). The first night we were completely shocked that they actually stayed in their beds. I thought it was going to be perfect and wonderful and way better than cages. I couldn't have been more wrong! It didn't take long for them to start getting out of bed. And pull every single article of clothing out of their drawers. And try on every single sock and every single shoe. And try fit six bowties around their waist at a time. Every time I entered their room, there was no floor to be seen.

But at least the mess was contained. Their room only. I could live with that. And then they figured out how to open doors. The dreaded day of days. I woke up at 4:30 AM with a tiny little finger (not mine) stuck up my nose. Good thing I had doorknob covers in stock and ready to pull out when needed. It took Charlie less that a day to figure out how to break them off the doorknobs (on Caroline's bidding, probably. I always say she is the brains and he is the muscle). For over a week they woke up between 4:30 and 5:30 AM. If there is one good thing about that, though, it is that it made me really appreciate their standard 7:30 AM wakeup time, which I used to think was far too early for little humans to be up and roaming around.

We passed the super early wake-up phase, thank heavens. And now we are stuck in the "never going to sleep" era. Oh how I miss those days of putting them down at 7:00 and knowing they would be asleep before long. I used to really look forward to bedtime. And now I dread it. Dread with a capital D. Caroline wants the light on so she can read. Charlie hates the light on but wants the door open with the hall light on. Caroline doesn't like the door open and keeps getting up to shut it. Charlie wants his bear to sit up next to him in bed but his bear keeps falling over, because it's stuffed and stuffed bears don't sit up very well. And when stuffed bears don't sit up very well, that's cause for many many tears in our house. Caroline demands that every single book in sight be on her bed. But then she can't lay down because the books are taking up the entire surface area of her bed. And heaven forbid you take the books out of the room. She NEEDS her books. If there is even a single book on top of the dresser, you'd better believe she will be found standing in one of the drawers trying to climb onto the top of the dresser to get it down and safely into her bed with the other books. Charlie has at least eight blue blankies. And try as I might to hide all but one or two of them in the dresser, he goes to bed with a couple of them and cries and cries that he needs "mo' blankies." He would steal Caroline's in a heart beat if she'd let him.

You get the gist. Lots of tears and bedtime. And when there aren't tears, there are giggles. I love giggles. But giggles are now an indication that somebody is out of bed and running around the room with a bare bum and yelling "nakey nakey!". How do you even get mad about that? Especially when accompanying the bare bum are a pair of blue dinosaur rain boots and the cutest little head of white hair you've ever seen?

Long story short, our 7:00 bedtime has turned into 7:00 bedtime that doesn't actually end until 9:30. I'm not too hopeful that it will get better anytime soon!

The New Routine

 

I was reading back through some old blog posts and I came across this post about our daily routine when the twins were Juliet's age. I laughed out loud at how different life is now, and how much crazy has come into our lives. Here's a little look at what I'm talking about, a peek into our average every-day kind of a day:

7 AM - twins wake up, climb on top of the dresser, pull out every article of clothing in any drawer in their room, empty the trash can and laundry basket, undress themselves and attempt to re-dress themselves in swimming suits and rain boots, and spread lotion all over every available surface
7:15 - I finally realize they are awake and walk in to find what appears to be the aftermath of Hurricane Charlie and Caroline
7:16 - rush to the potty and sing "The Wheels on the Bus" for what already feels like the 57th time that day
7:20 - go rescue Juliet from her crib moments before Charlie crashes in on top of her, and remind myself that I need to put a child-proof door knob cover on her door
7:30 - make oatmeal and toast for the twins, strap them in their seats with their milk, breakfast, and "treats" (which are actually vitamins. I've conned them into thinking they are a treat.), and then sit down to feed Juliet
7:45 - clean up the kitchen which was spotless before breakfast and is somehow now coated in a layer of oatmeal, and grab myself something to eat, also intermittently interfering in Charlie's attempts to lay on top of Juliet (confession - sometimes I let him do it if it doesn't appear to be bothering her. I have to pick my battles)
8:00 - put Juliet back in bed. Brush kids teeth (this involves me pinning them to the ground and holding their head in-between my knees. Caroline's tears usually make a brief appearance.), do hair, use the potty again, and get dressed for the day. Sounds simple, but it takes a certain amount of finesse to get Caroline to allow me to touch her hair and get it done in the brief moments of light that Charlie's obsession with flipping the bathroom lights on and off allows me. Also taking care to keep the water faucet pointed toward "cold" so that Charlie doesn't burn himself when he gets bored with the lights and moves to turning the water on and off
8:15 - mop up the bathroom counters and floors from all of the water that somehow made its way out of the sink and onto everything else
8:20 - go into my bedroom and attempt to get dressed. If I'm super lucky, I might get to use the bathroom privately, and might get a bonus of brushing my teeth, putting my contacts in, or maybe even putting on makeup (ha! not likely). Meanwhile, my room now looks like it too was hit by Hurricane Char and Care.
8:30 - head down in the basement, our most kid-proof area in the house, and play. We work on puzzles, peg boards, and mega blocks. We play pretend with dolls and little people and throw balls at each other. The kids climb over the back of the couch and play peek-a-boo with each other. At some point I go and get Juju, feed her, and add her to the madness.
Noon - finally lunch time. Head upstairs, and I make one of three meals: grilled cheese, cheese quesadilla, or macaroni and cheese (somebody loves cheese a little too much..) Eat, potty, and then the most glorious time of all is here.
1 PM - Nap time!! Hallelujah. Caroline goes in her bed in her room. Charlie goes in Juliet's crib. Juliet goes in the pack n play in my room. Put them all down then sit in the hallway watching the monitors like a hawk. Go put Charlie back in the crib at least 4 times. Take Caroline to the potty once or twice more. Then finally, heaven-sent silence. If I'm lucky I get 2.5 hours of beautiful wonderful naptime. Enter the debate: nap? Clean up after hurricanes? Work on a project? Watch TV? The possibilities are endless, and yet somehow I find myself spending at least 15 of those precious naptime minutes sitting in the bathroom scrolling through my Facebook news feed. So lame.
3:30 - twins wake up from nap. Same sequence occurs as when they wake up in the morning, only this time they are in two separate rooms so Juilet's room now gets the hurricane treatment as well. I swear they get out of bed silently and destroy without making a peep.
4:00 - try to start some kind of a dinner, all while protecting Juju from her siblings and protecting the twins from hurting themselves. Charlie inevitably bring his bike over to the stove and tries to use it as a stool to get up and help me cook. Caroline digs into the drawer and pulls out two oven mitts and tries to open the hot oven saying "help you mommy!". I constantly remind myself to keep the knives away from the edges of the countertops, in the sink, or basically anywhere except for the top of the refrigerator.
5:30 - dinner. Convince the twins that they can have a "treat" (treat this time meaning applesauce, yogurt, or Almonds..) if they finish their dinner. Charlie finishes first every single time and gets his treat. Caroline cries that she doesn't get her treat yet, then finally after many tears decides it worth eating her dinner for.
6:30 - twins bath, brush teeth, potty, go on horsey rides, read scriptures, say prayers, tickle their guts out and then sing lots and lots of songs. And read lots of stories. And then some more.
7:00 - lights out, door shut, and hope they stay in bed. Sit by the door and listen to their conversations.
Charlie - Gramma!
Caroline - No! No gramma. Night night.
Char - Outside!
Care - No! No outside. Night night.
Char - Jumping jellybean!
Care - No! No jumping jellybean. Night night.
She loves her sleep, and she also loves telling Charlie no.
7:30 - Juliet bath (on the good days), feed her, and put her in bed.
And then party because all 3 kids are in bed and asleep before 8:00. Do some laundry, sleep, and repeat. That's how we roll.