You must have been in a place so dark, you couldn't feel the light
Reachin' for you through that stormy cloud
Now here we are gathered in our little home town
This can't be the way you meant to draw a crowd
Oh, why?
That's what I keep askin'
Was there anything I could have said or done?
Oh, I had no clue you were maskin' a troubled soul
God only knows what went wrong
And why you would leave the stage in the middle of a song
("Why" by Rascal Flatts)
It's funny how bringing a life into the world makes you evaluate and appreciate everything in a different light. My kids make me think about things with such different mentality. I re-visit my own childhood and remember the good things that I want to recreate for Brady and Brooklyn.
I think about the relationship I had with my own siblings. Oil and water. I think that's the best way to describe it. Donita and I were far enough apart that our relationship didn't really develop until we were all that was left for each other. From what I remember, DJ and I were like Tom and Jerry. We had moments when we could kill each other, but were always the first to jump to the others' defense. We played outside together riding bikes, playing in the creek, making mud puddles, destroying things we probably shouldn't have, fighting over the TV channel, throwing things at each other...you know, typical sibling rivalry.
As we got older, obviously our relationship changed. I started middle school, liking boys and he was now "the little brother" that was always around. Bugging me when I friends over, irritating me when I was on the phone with Chad and just trying to piss me off. At least that's how I saw it then. I'd give anything for him to piss me off now.
Once he started middle school and I got my first job(s), we didn't relate much anymore. He played football. I remember sitting along Middle Street watching practice with mom and Sally Whitener. I didn't know him much anymore. He was changing and so was I. We drifted apart, but he was still my brother and I would've been the first to jump to his defense.
Oh, why?
There's no comprehending
And who am I to try to judge or explain?
Oh, but I do have one burning question:
Who told you life wasn't worth the fight?
They were wrong
They lied
And now you're gone
And we cry
'Cause it's not like you to walk away in the middle of a song
I may not have been spending every waking minute with him, but I still felt like he was there if I needed him and he knew I was there for him. We just didn't NEED each other anymore. At least that's what I thought. Little did I know that he was just starting to struggle with life. Middle school and high school can be hard for girls, but it can be just as trying for boys. From the outside, he was the happiest most care-free person you'd meet. The big dork was even on the cover of the local newspaper his senior year for riding our tractor to school with some of his friends. His was just quirky like that.
I got married, he went to college. I could tell he was changing. He liked to be the life of the party and became a real "John Deere" kind of guy. Cut off jeans with cowboy boots. Plaid shirts with the sleeves ripped off. Hat hair all the time. His friends were an interesting crowd. Some were good to him, some took his generosity for granted. He worked random jobs while at school, liked to go mudding and have a beer in the evening. Through all this freedom, he would've been at my side if I'd ever needed him. What a great man.
Your beautiful song
Your absolutely beautiful song
He finished school, moved back to Farmigton and worked at a trucking company. He was still looking for his calling and experimenting with life as he tried to figure it out.
Then mom got sick. He made the daily trips with us for 6 weeks before she passed. He was never the same again. He blamed himself. As we all carried some guilt. I guess children just do that no matter their age. Those 2 years after mom died, he really struggled. He withdrew from us. He tried to look and act the part. I could feel something wasn't right. I knew it, but I thought he was grieving and would eventually find his way without interference from me. I thought if I asked too much, he would completely disappear. So I never asked. What a mistake.
I remember one day he came to St. Louis and we went shopping for new clothes and a haircut for him. I thought he was "coming out of the gray" and wanting to put himself back together. I see now, he was trying to mask his pain and recreate what he thought we wanted. We spent much of the afternoon together (with the girl he was seeing at the time) had lunch, bought some clothes, found our childhood dining table at Goodwill (which he bought for his new rental house). It was a good day. I thought he was back. I chose to believe he was back.
He called when he got home that evening to let me know he made it, he loved me and that he had enjoyed the day just getting to spend time with me. I could still feel "it". Something wasn't right in his voice.
So I asked, "DJ, are you happy?"...there was a pause and then he replied, "I'm working on it."
He had said enough to satisfy me. It was close enough that I wouldn't push anymore. I just made sure he knew that we wanted him to be happy, no matter what that meant for him. What a cry for help, as I hear it now in my head. The biggest regret I have is accepting that answer and choosing to believe he was OK.
Now the oak trees are swayin' in the early autumn breeze
A golden sun is shining on my face
Through tangled thoughts I hear, a mockingbird sing
This old world really ain't that bad a place
Fast forward about a year...Three Rivers Cemetery on a sunny April morning. Standing, staring at a powder blue casket surrounded by people and not seeing any of them. I felt like such a failure. I had let him down and now there's nothing I could do about it. I don't know how long I stood there after the service was over as people began to leave, but I remember finally stepping up to his casket, kissing it and saying my final words to him...
..."I hope you found what you were looking for. I hope you're happy now"...
Now, I see my own son and think about how much Uncle DJ would love hanging out with him. He is so happy-go-lucky like DJ. He loves to play with anything that has wheels and they would've been the best buddies. And Brooklyn would've been a spoiled princess. He would've loved them. He DOES love them. And he loves me, he doesn't blame me and I'm working on not blaming me either.
Faith
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
My brother and April 18, 2008: Part 1
This Sunday will mark the 3rd "anniversary" of one of the worst days of my life. Hopefully there will be none worse than it. I have so many thoughts surrounding this event that it's hard to know where to start.
Friday, April 18, 2008...I was waiting in the carpool line to pick up Jack and a friend. He's the little guy I nannied for at the time. He was having a playdate that afternoon. We were going to the park to play and then home for snack and Jack's mom, Laura, was going to be home earlier than usual. My phone rang while I was waiting, it was Laura. She said she was on her way home at the moment and to just bring the boys there. Her daughter was coming home early from a week long camp and she wanted to be there to meet her and start the weekend early. I was thinking that it sounded perfect, because my weekend could start early too!
As we pulled up to Jack's house, I noticed Chad's car sitting outside his house. I thought nothing of it- maybe he had planned to surprise me with a visit, a dinner, or something. I was not prepared for the surprise he had. The boys jumped out of my car, and Laura came out the front door and rushed them inside. Chad stepped out of his car and I almost ran to him. I was so excited to see him and also know that I was finished working for the day! He walked towards me. I'm still so excited to see him that I'm not noticing the solemn look on his face. I greet him with a kiss and energetically asked what he's up to. Then I realize, "This is not good". He can't really look at me, but says words I'll never forget.
"It's DJ."
"What about him?" I thought he was in an accident, got arrested or something similar.
"...he killed himself."
I froze. Time froze. I instantly comprehended what he was saying and the visuals in my head went overboard. I knew he was gone. There was no denial. No misunderstanding. Just sheer pain and incredible guilt. Instantly. I melted and cried. We walked inside Jack's house. Laura was standing inside and I went to her immediately. She hugged me and told us to take all the time we needed at the house. We sat in the living room and I remember staring out the window trying to answer all the questions that were swirling in my head.
"How did he do it?" I asked Chad. I'm sure that's one question he didn't want to answer.
"Shotgun, I think." was all he said. That was enough for me.
I wanted to throw up. I wanted to hide. I wanted to die. I have NEVER felt a pain like that before. An emotional pain that hurts so much you can feel it in your bones.
We sat for a few more minutes and then I wanted to be in Farmington with my family. NOW. We said our goodbyes to Laura. I told her I'd call her in a few days and let her know what was happening. Then we got in my car, headed home to pack and make the hour drive to Farmington.
When we got to our townhouse, I remember walking inside and trying to focus on what clothes to take with me. I stood outside our little laundry room, trying to pick out an outfit or 2 and just melted into the floor. I became a weeping pile. Chad came and sat with me while I cried and got angry about not having anything to take. We finally grabbed the essentials and decided we'd go shopping for anything else we needed.
It was raining. A pathetic, cold, depressing rain as we drove. I called Donita to check on her and get what little details she had. She was rather together, as she'd had a little more time to process than I had at this point. She said he was found that morning, but had done it the afternoon before. I was so angry that my little brother had been dead for more than 12 hours and no one knew it. I felt like I should've known. I should've felt it. I felt like it was my fault that he had laid there, alone. Alone. I was so angry at myself.
We drove what felt like 25 MPH to Farmington. We got to my sister's house where she and my dad were. They were so still. We talked about the details. When did it happen, how was he found, who found out first... All the pointless information that seems so vital in the moment.
My biggest worry was "Was he scared? Did he have doubts in that last split second?"
The next few days went by in a blur. There were hundreds of people. Tons of flowers. Lots of tears. We had the option of seeing him during our family visitation. Without seeing him, we knew we'd never believe it. The funeral home told us that they tried to "reconstruct" as much as possible, but were not able to. For us, his tattoo served as closure. The visitation, the funeral, the gravesite, the cleaning out of his belongings, the questions, the grief, the guilt. It was all part of the process and the worst week of my life.
There are days that are still as paralyzing as April 18, 2008. There are days when I can't forgive myself for moving away and leaving him after mom died. Days when I beat myself up for not asking more questions of him when I knew something wasn't right. There have been days when I just wanted to die with him.
But those days are coming fewer and far between. I definitely believe that God takes our pain and helps us create strength from it. Only He knows how much pain we've endured. This life hurdle can be used to help others. It has taught me to not take anything for granted, to appreciate love, to be more understanding of other peoples' circumstances and to treat today as though it may be your last. It has made me a better mother, because I never want my children to doubt how much they are loved, how special they are and how much better they can make this world.
As we pulled up to Jack's house, I noticed Chad's car sitting outside his house. I thought nothing of it- maybe he had planned to surprise me with a visit, a dinner, or something. I was not prepared for the surprise he had. The boys jumped out of my car, and Laura came out the front door and rushed them inside. Chad stepped out of his car and I almost ran to him. I was so excited to see him and also know that I was finished working for the day! He walked towards me. I'm still so excited to see him that I'm not noticing the solemn look on his face. I greet him with a kiss and energetically asked what he's up to. Then I realize, "This is not good". He can't really look at me, but says words I'll never forget.
"It's DJ."
"What about him?" I thought he was in an accident, got arrested or something similar.
"...he killed himself."
I froze. Time froze. I instantly comprehended what he was saying and the visuals in my head went overboard. I knew he was gone. There was no denial. No misunderstanding. Just sheer pain and incredible guilt. Instantly. I melted and cried. We walked inside Jack's house. Laura was standing inside and I went to her immediately. She hugged me and told us to take all the time we needed at the house. We sat in the living room and I remember staring out the window trying to answer all the questions that were swirling in my head.
"How did he do it?" I asked Chad. I'm sure that's one question he didn't want to answer.
"Shotgun, I think." was all he said. That was enough for me.
I wanted to throw up. I wanted to hide. I wanted to die. I have NEVER felt a pain like that before. An emotional pain that hurts so much you can feel it in your bones.
We sat for a few more minutes and then I wanted to be in Farmington with my family. NOW. We said our goodbyes to Laura. I told her I'd call her in a few days and let her know what was happening. Then we got in my car, headed home to pack and make the hour drive to Farmington.
When we got to our townhouse, I remember walking inside and trying to focus on what clothes to take with me. I stood outside our little laundry room, trying to pick out an outfit or 2 and just melted into the floor. I became a weeping pile. Chad came and sat with me while I cried and got angry about not having anything to take. We finally grabbed the essentials and decided we'd go shopping for anything else we needed.
It was raining. A pathetic, cold, depressing rain as we drove. I called Donita to check on her and get what little details she had. She was rather together, as she'd had a little more time to process than I had at this point. She said he was found that morning, but had done it the afternoon before. I was so angry that my little brother had been dead for more than 12 hours and no one knew it. I felt like I should've known. I should've felt it. I felt like it was my fault that he had laid there, alone. Alone. I was so angry at myself.
We drove what felt like 25 MPH to Farmington. We got to my sister's house where she and my dad were. They were so still. We talked about the details. When did it happen, how was he found, who found out first... All the pointless information that seems so vital in the moment.
My biggest worry was "Was he scared? Did he have doubts in that last split second?"
The next few days went by in a blur. There were hundreds of people. Tons of flowers. Lots of tears. We had the option of seeing him during our family visitation. Without seeing him, we knew we'd never believe it. The funeral home told us that they tried to "reconstruct" as much as possible, but were not able to. For us, his tattoo served as closure. The visitation, the funeral, the gravesite, the cleaning out of his belongings, the questions, the grief, the guilt. It was all part of the process and the worst week of my life.
There are days that are still as paralyzing as April 18, 2008. There are days when I can't forgive myself for moving away and leaving him after mom died. Days when I beat myself up for not asking more questions of him when I knew something wasn't right. There have been days when I just wanted to die with him.
But those days are coming fewer and far between. I definitely believe that God takes our pain and helps us create strength from it. Only He knows how much pain we've endured. This life hurdle can be used to help others. It has taught me to not take anything for granted, to appreciate love, to be more understanding of other peoples' circumstances and to treat today as though it may be your last. It has made me a better mother, because I never want my children to doubt how much they are loved, how special they are and how much better they can make this world.
We are here for a reason. We are here for a season. With God, nothing is impossible.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
BrAiN dEaD...
There comes a point in pregnancy where a woman goes completely brain dead. I have officially reached that point.
I'm sitting at my desk with a million thoughts of things I need to be doing to prepare for Brooklyn's arrival both at home and at work. So many things in fact that I can't pick one. I sleep, but don't feel rested and am in a steady round of hip/back pain that keeps me distracted. Brooklyn is slowing in her movements, but picking up in weight and definitely running out of room in there.
On one hand, I can't wait for her to get here so I can meet her and get to know her. (Not to mention, no longer be sharing a body with her) On the other hand, I have plenty of anxiety of how I'm going to handle the additional responsibility of caring for a newborn again, physically recover from surgery, ride the hormone roller coaster and then transition back into work. It's all a bit much to handle right now and I'm trying to come up with answers to questions that haven't been asked yet.
We've had a crazy month at work, with more than enough change in staffing placement. We've made a shift in what teachers work what room and everyone is trying to settle and still care for the kids in their room while maintaining some sort of sanity.
As I sit here, my stress level is off the charts and I just want to take my baby boy, go home and cry. I'm so tapped out with drama and stupidity and just wish people would take a deep breath, realize that some details aren't important and get their priorities straight.
So, enough of my hormonal rant. I'll re-focus, lead by example and put on my big girl panties and deal with it.
God never gives us more than we can handle, right?
I'm sitting at my desk with a million thoughts of things I need to be doing to prepare for Brooklyn's arrival both at home and at work. So many things in fact that I can't pick one. I sleep, but don't feel rested and am in a steady round of hip/back pain that keeps me distracted. Brooklyn is slowing in her movements, but picking up in weight and definitely running out of room in there.
On one hand, I can't wait for her to get here so I can meet her and get to know her. (Not to mention, no longer be sharing a body with her) On the other hand, I have plenty of anxiety of how I'm going to handle the additional responsibility of caring for a newborn again, physically recover from surgery, ride the hormone roller coaster and then transition back into work. It's all a bit much to handle right now and I'm trying to come up with answers to questions that haven't been asked yet.
We've had a crazy month at work, with more than enough change in staffing placement. We've made a shift in what teachers work what room and everyone is trying to settle and still care for the kids in their room while maintaining some sort of sanity.
As I sit here, my stress level is off the charts and I just want to take my baby boy, go home and cry. I'm so tapped out with drama and stupidity and just wish people would take a deep breath, realize that some details aren't important and get their priorities straight.
So, enough of my hormonal rant. I'll re-focus, lead by example and put on my big girl panties and deal with it.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Birthday Boy!
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| Waiting patiently for our family to arrive. |
1 year ago (tomorrow technically) our little man joined our family and forever changed our life.
I could fill this with all the typical "you don't know love until you have a child" cliches, but if you don't have children, you don't understand that statement and if you do have children, you totally understand without any other verbage from me.
As many of you know, life has been a little less than "nice" to me for
the last handful of years. After losing mom and DJ, I was becoming increasingly bitter towards everything and was really struggling to stay positive about the direction my life was taking. I took a job at a daycare to supplement the hours I was losing with the family I nannied for, and I was promoted rather quickly. It felt good to be needed and working full time again, but I didn't realize it would be the most stressful job I'd ever had. I carry a lot of responsibility, and at the time it was nice to have a distraction from the painful, guilt-ridden thoughts I was having. I settled into the job and found a comfortable routine and new purpose. But that only lasted a short time until I felt myself becoming numb and bitter again.
Now, by no means did we have Brady in order to fix me. He was and continues to be a gift from God that proves to me there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. God's timing is perfect, His purpose for my life is a never-ending journey and His love is unending.
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| Last photo before Brady joined us. |
My biggest parenting fear is that he will never forget the mistakes I make and that I will fail him as a parent, but I know if I keep my priorities in line with God's calling on all of our lives, he will grow up to be everything God has planned for him.
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| Brady Michael- our most amazing blessing to date! |
So, I wish my baby boy and very Happy 1st Birthday.
I thank him for making me a better person and I wish him all the love a momma can send!
Monday, March 21, 2011
My Amazing Husband
I'd like to think that I am a superwoman who could do anything and everything that was put in my lap, all by myself. However, I have learned that I certainly can't and it's OK. Thank God (and I mean that literally) that I was given an amazing husband. He is the leader of our home, an excellent example of strength and determination for our children, and my perfect completer.
Obviously, as my belly gets bigger and Brady gets bigger, daddy takes over even more than his share of responsibility in our home. AND he's learning everyday how to deal with an even crazier pregnant wife. It's a roller coaster for all of us!
He "took over" the laundry chore several months ago, he grocery shops, he has rearranged his schedule to go to the gym after Brady is asleep and I have passed out on the couch for the night. He is a better bathroom cleaner than I am and is a great cook.
As I write this, I'm thinking to myself, "Well, what exactly are you doing at home, supermom?" I'm not exactly sitting on my butt eating ice cream... I would if I could :) I'm usually along for the ride on most of these things- I'd love to be able to do everything, but I'm physically down for the count at this point!
Chad and I have been together 15 1/2 years to date. Literally, half of my life has been spent at his side. He was the first person to ever tell me he loved me (and mean it- 6th/7th grade boyfriends excluded). He has been with me through bouts of teenage bulimia, the death of my mom and brother, and he stretches me everyday to be a strong, warrior princess. He treats me like a queen but doesn't let me be a brat. I love that he is the head of our household and I happily submit to his final decision. He keeps us on track financially (I only have periodic issues with retail therapy!), keeps me focused and emotionally stable and is always thinking about how to make our future better. We've made mistakes, we're not perfect. We don't have all the answers, but we figure them out together. He is the perfect match for me.
In counting my blessings, I count him several times. I wouldn't be the person I am today without him.
Obviously, as my belly gets bigger and Brady gets bigger, daddy takes over even more than his share of responsibility in our home. AND he's learning everyday how to deal with an even crazier pregnant wife. It's a roller coaster for all of us!
He "took over" the laundry chore several months ago, he grocery shops, he has rearranged his schedule to go to the gym after Brady is asleep and I have passed out on the couch for the night. He is a better bathroom cleaner than I am and is a great cook.
As I write this, I'm thinking to myself, "Well, what exactly are you doing at home, supermom?" I'm not exactly sitting on my butt eating ice cream... I would if I could :) I'm usually along for the ride on most of these things- I'd love to be able to do everything, but I'm physically down for the count at this point!
Chad and I have been together 15 1/2 years to date. Literally, half of my life has been spent at his side. He was the first person to ever tell me he loved me (and mean it- 6th/7th grade boyfriends excluded). He has been with me through bouts of teenage bulimia, the death of my mom and brother, and he stretches me everyday to be a strong, warrior princess. He treats me like a queen but doesn't let me be a brat. I love that he is the head of our household and I happily submit to his final decision. He keeps us on track financially (I only have periodic issues with retail therapy!), keeps me focused and emotionally stable and is always thinking about how to make our future better. We've made mistakes, we're not perfect. We don't have all the answers, but we figure them out together. He is the perfect match for me.
In counting my blessings, I count him several times. I wouldn't be the person I am today without him.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
8 weeks and 5 days to go!
8 weeks and 5 days left...
Pregnancy itself is so surreal. I dreamed my whole life about how fun it was going to be when I was pregnant. The growing bump, the cute waddle, the cravings, the maternity clothes and the special attention :) I definitely have all of those attributes, but they aren't as "fun" as I imagined them to be! I have a serious love/hate relationship with being pregnant. I LOVE the end result, but some of the process- eh, not so much.
My pregnancy with Brady was SO easy, with the exception of a little (very expensive) 36 hour stint at St. Johns for what turned out to be a muscle spasm that caused contractions. I gained 46 pounds, but otherwise, I had no complaints. I slept beautifully (which I could've done 24 hours a day!), no muscle cramps, no morning sickness, no strange cravings. Moodiness was present, but not rampant. Well, maybe you should ask Chad about that one.
This pregnancy however has been a completely different ballgame. Thankfully, no morning sickness! Although, I have had the stomach flu of some variety 3 times so far and let me tell you how irritating it is to throw up when you're visibly pregnant. Taking care of Brady (who is the world's easiest little man to care for!) has been a major factor in how different this pregnancy is. He's just learning to walk, so obviously we carry him a lot, and carrying a 29 lb child can be a bit more than tiring for an ever-expanding body. Some nights when I'm rocking him (on what little lap I have left) I swear the two of them are fighting for space. Brooklyn from the inside and Brady snuggled up around my belly from the outside. Kind of endearing, but exhausting at times too.
Perhaps there's a reason my OB told me not to get pregnant for at least a year after Brady was born. "Your body needs time to heal." My body felt fine to me. Or maybe that was still residual effects from my C-Section pain meds and riding high on hormones? Regardless of how/why/when my princess is coming, I'm anxious to meet her.
And the process of growing a girl has been an adventure. I've been a self-proclaimed b**ch on some days, then there are days when I can cry at the sight of Brady playing with bubbles for the first time (really, I did.) I get frustrated that I have so much I want to do, but no energy to do it. So I rely on Chad to do a lot of grunt work that I'd rather do myself and my brain function is completely gone! I spend most days in a mental fog and it takes A LOT of energy to stay focused and think through things. Thank God for people around me who aren't drowning in progesterone!
But, despite the muscle cramps, insomnia, crankiness and never ending trips to the bathroom, there will be a new princess in the King home in 8 weeks and 5 days... and we can't wait to meet her!
Pregnancy itself is so surreal. I dreamed my whole life about how fun it was going to be when I was pregnant. The growing bump, the cute waddle, the cravings, the maternity clothes and the special attention :) I definitely have all of those attributes, but they aren't as "fun" as I imagined them to be! I have a serious love/hate relationship with being pregnant. I LOVE the end result, but some of the process- eh, not so much.
My pregnancy with Brady was SO easy, with the exception of a little (very expensive) 36 hour stint at St. Johns for what turned out to be a muscle spasm that caused contractions. I gained 46 pounds, but otherwise, I had no complaints. I slept beautifully (which I could've done 24 hours a day!), no muscle cramps, no morning sickness, no strange cravings. Moodiness was present, but not rampant. Well, maybe you should ask Chad about that one.
This pregnancy however has been a completely different ballgame. Thankfully, no morning sickness! Although, I have had the stomach flu of some variety 3 times so far and let me tell you how irritating it is to throw up when you're visibly pregnant. Taking care of Brady (who is the world's easiest little man to care for!) has been a major factor in how different this pregnancy is. He's just learning to walk, so obviously we carry him a lot, and carrying a 29 lb child can be a bit more than tiring for an ever-expanding body. Some nights when I'm rocking him (on what little lap I have left) I swear the two of them are fighting for space. Brooklyn from the inside and Brady snuggled up around my belly from the outside. Kind of endearing, but exhausting at times too.
Perhaps there's a reason my OB told me not to get pregnant for at least a year after Brady was born. "Your body needs time to heal." My body felt fine to me. Or maybe that was still residual effects from my C-Section pain meds and riding high on hormones? Regardless of how/why/when my princess is coming, I'm anxious to meet her.
And the process of growing a girl has been an adventure. I've been a self-proclaimed b**ch on some days, then there are days when I can cry at the sight of Brady playing with bubbles for the first time (really, I did.) I get frustrated that I have so much I want to do, but no energy to do it. So I rely on Chad to do a lot of grunt work that I'd rather do myself and my brain function is completely gone! I spend most days in a mental fog and it takes A LOT of energy to stay focused and think through things. Thank God for people around me who aren't drowning in progesterone!
But, despite the muscle cramps, insomnia, crankiness and never ending trips to the bathroom, there will be a new princess in the King home in 8 weeks and 5 days... and we can't wait to meet her!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Balance? Really, does it exist?
Balance...does it exist? Does anyone ever feel like they are ahead of the game and not constantly play an endless game of "catch up"? I am, by no means, a planner, organizer, scheduler kind of person, but I'm beginning to think I'd be more efficient at everything if I was :)
Chad and I are working to figure out mealtimes and keeping our 29 lb, 32 in. 1 year old, full! He is a bottomless pit lately and we are constantly planning and preparing to stay ahead of him. We spent yesterday afternoon cutting fruit, veggies and cooking for the week ahead, because momma has hit the 3rd trimester wall and would just like to sleep 24 hours a day!
In addition to working full time jobs and strategically planning to get out of debt and save for our own home, our plates tend to be full. When we're home together (every night, thankfully) we have a beautiful routine and it's all about our family. We cook dinner, (even if that means tuna sandwiches) have a ton of fun playing with Brady and walking around the house with him wobblyingly holding our hands for security and enjoy bath-time. The weekends usually consist of catching up on laundry and getting out and about a little. Sometimes the "routine" drives me crazy, as I wish I had more time or energy to live life a little more excitingly, but then there are days when I'm so thankful for the monotony. Brady is changing so much, so quickly. He's finally crawling and has now moved on to wanting to walk everywhere. Which is not necessarily fun when you're nearly 8 months pregnant and have worked an 8 hour stressful day. BUT- his smile and squeal make it all worth it.
Now, I'm by no means complaining about my job. If I really wanted to stay home, I would, but in all honesty...I kind of enjoy the distraction of a job and the feeling of productivity I get. I run a daycare of about 60 kiddos and 15-16 employees. It's not glamorous by any means as I've been known to plunge a toilet or two and have tweezed many a various item out of little noses! I like to think I'm contributing to society in some small way though :)
We have been talking very seriously about homeschooling our little ones. I love the idea of being my children's teacher, but that also adds to the hats I will wear. I am totally committed to the idea and still have a few years to get our resources together, so no big debates needed now. I know it's a controversial subject, but after teaching in both public and private schools...it's just what I feel most confident in. I want to teach them HOW to think, not just what to think. Anyway, that's a blog in itself!
Life is going to get interesting and I can't wait to welcome Ms. Brooklyn to our family. I'm excited and terrified at the same time to have a daughter. Girls just seem like a whole different ballgame. Not to mention I wasn't crazy about being one myself :) I'm looking forward to shopping weekends and getting our nails done- maybe she'll bring the princess out of me! Her room is coming together...slowly at times it seems, but it's definitely a girls room. There are still a few little details to take care of, but I certainly learned with Brady that what I think is going to be important usually isn't and the things I've overlooked always seem to find the spotlight.
If there are any supermoms, either stay-at-home or working with great tips on how to keep my sanity- I welcome them!!
In addition to working full time jobs and strategically planning to get out of debt and save for our own home, our plates tend to be full. When we're home together (every night, thankfully) we have a beautiful routine and it's all about our family. We cook dinner, (even if that means tuna sandwiches) have a ton of fun playing with Brady and walking around the house with him wobblyingly holding our hands for security and enjoy bath-time. The weekends usually consist of catching up on laundry and getting out and about a little. Sometimes the "routine" drives me crazy, as I wish I had more time or energy to live life a little more excitingly, but then there are days when I'm so thankful for the monotony. Brady is changing so much, so quickly. He's finally crawling and has now moved on to wanting to walk everywhere. Which is not necessarily fun when you're nearly 8 months pregnant and have worked an 8 hour stressful day. BUT- his smile and squeal make it all worth it.
Now, I'm by no means complaining about my job. If I really wanted to stay home, I would, but in all honesty...I kind of enjoy the distraction of a job and the feeling of productivity I get. I run a daycare of about 60 kiddos and 15-16 employees. It's not glamorous by any means as I've been known to plunge a toilet or two and have tweezed many a various item out of little noses! I like to think I'm contributing to society in some small way though :)
We have been talking very seriously about homeschooling our little ones. I love the idea of being my children's teacher, but that also adds to the hats I will wear. I am totally committed to the idea and still have a few years to get our resources together, so no big debates needed now. I know it's a controversial subject, but after teaching in both public and private schools...it's just what I feel most confident in. I want to teach them HOW to think, not just what to think. Anyway, that's a blog in itself!
Life is going to get interesting and I can't wait to welcome Ms. Brooklyn to our family. I'm excited and terrified at the same time to have a daughter. Girls just seem like a whole different ballgame. Not to mention I wasn't crazy about being one myself :) I'm looking forward to shopping weekends and getting our nails done- maybe she'll bring the princess out of me! Her room is coming together...slowly at times it seems, but it's definitely a girls room. There are still a few little details to take care of, but I certainly learned with Brady that what I think is going to be important usually isn't and the things I've overlooked always seem to find the spotlight.
If there are any supermoms, either stay-at-home or working with great tips on how to keep my sanity- I welcome them!!
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