The crazy train just got crazier.

I don't even know how to build up to this slowly so here goes.

Remember my confession about peeing on sticks? Well, I peed on a stick again. And it was positive.

Actually, it was more like 5 sticks. And they were all positive. But to be extra sure I broke them apart. And held them up to the light. And looked at them for days. 5 days. And they never changed. So....it looks like we're having a(nother) baby!

To say we were surprised would be an understatement. I'm still nursing Trav. We've taken "precautions" every single time but one. I'm dead serious. In four months, we've thrown caution to the wind ONE time. ONE.

We're very excited about having another little one to love and snuggle. And though this wasn't exactly our plan it was (quite obviously) in Someone's plan. So, we're going to go with this and enjoy the crazy ride we're about to be on.

I'm more than just a little bit nervous about the logistics. Because:

1. Trav is only 5 months old. FIVE MONTHS!!
2. We are still paying off the previous C-section because my insurance won't cover me on maternity.
3. I have no idea how we're going to squeeze 4 kids into this house.
4. Did I mention we still don't have maternity insurance?

Let this be a cautionary tale for teenagers everywhere. Because, as it turns out, it only takes one lapse with birth control to get pregnant and it isn't some sort of cumulative process. Just. so. you. know.

On a very serious note, we could use some major heavy duty prayers offered up for this situation. I know one way or another this is going to work out just fine. Even if I end up birthing this baby in the bathtub at home. Which, when compared to another $12,000 C-section, is looking like a distinct possibility.

At least I'll have plenty of blogging material, right?

Love.

This boy has stolen my heart. Just like my two girls have.

With all my crazy stories about my kids, I don't get to say this enough. My kids? I love them.

And just in case they ever look back and read these blog posts and wonder if I think it is all worth it? I do. One hundred thousand times over.

Kindergarten Readiness: A rant.

Kai is scheduled to start real Kindergarten next month. And I've got all of the usual mommy worries about Kindergarten. Add into that the fact that we suspect Kai is dyslexic (not just me, but our pediatrician as well & there is a family history of it) and I've been really nervous about the whole thing.

But, my girl is super smart. Okay, I know every mom thinks their kids are smart. So, whatever. But she is. For real.

Still she had to take the Gesell Assessment before Kindergarten enrollment. And I was freaking out. In my mind I built it up to be more like a test of my parenting of her. Did she learn enough from me? Did I do a good job raising her? This test would give me the answers.

What it gave me was even more questions. About education. About childhood development. About whether or not I could even hack being a parent of an elementary school kid.

Kai was ecstatic about the test. She loved the teacher (who was awesome!) and the questions she got to answer. I felt at ease about the whole thing. I just knew Kai had "aced" the test. The test that meant I was a wonderful, outstanding perfect parent of this precious 5 year (and 2 months) old girl.

(I should mention that I do know that this was a developmental test. That there was no way to "ace" it. I'm just being honest about that scary competitive streak that lies deep within me.)

Then we got the results. Kai, despite being 5 years 2 months old, supposedly had the developmental age of a 4 1/2 year-old.

No. Way.

Because she can tell me how many continents there are. And name them all on a map. She converses with adults better than she does with kids sometimes. And she uses words like marvelous and glorious and conundrum (and she knows what they mean). She asks big huge questions about God, the universe and everything in between. She can remember the most minute details from trips we took 2 years ago. And she never forgets a face. She's a creative problem solver. A brilliant (and persuasive) debater. She is unwavering when she sets her mind to something.

But...

She has only just now picked which hand she writes with. She can write her name but not as well as her 5-year-old counterparts. And sometimes she writes it as a mirror image. Not backwards, but a complete mirror image. She is clumsy with a pencil and unsure of herself when writing letters. And this, it seems, makes her developmentally 4 1/2 years old.

I was told to enroll her in Kindergarten "with caution." If I listened to the test I'd have to wait until she's almost 6 1/2 years old. And, folks, that just isn't happening.

Here's the list of skills required for a Kindegarten student:

* Listen to stories without interrupting
* Recognize rhyming sounds
* Pay attention for short periods of time to adult-directed tasks
* Understand actions have both causes and effects
* Show understanding of general times of day
* Cut with scissors
* Trace basic shapes
* Begin to share with others
* Start to follow rules
* Be able to recognize authority
* Manage bathroom needs
* Button shirts, pants, coats, and zip up zippers
* Begin to control oneself
* Separate from parents without being upset
* Speak understandably
* Talk in complete sentences of five to six words
* Look at pictures and then tell stories
* Identify rhyming words
* Identify the beginning sound of some words
* Identify some alphabet letters
* Recognize some common sight words like "stop"
* Sort similar objects by color, size, and shape
* Recognize groups of one, two, three, four, and five objects
* Count to ten
* Bounce a ball

I can give her a big fat check mark beside each of those. And yet the "problems" she had with the test were that she couldn't write her last name for the teacher, had trouble writing some of her numbers, and held her pencil clumsily. I mean, since when did kids need to be writing academic papers to get into Kindergarten?

I know Kindergarten now isn't the way it used to be. It isn't about playing and learning how the world works through fun. To use one friend's description of it, Kindergarten today is "intense." Seven hour school days. Homework four nights a week. Five sentence paragraphs by the end of the year. Intense.

But I can't help but wonder if much of this is an attempt to beef up the test scores in an educational system that fails many of its students? And if forcing kids to fit into narrow guidelines contributes to that failure? I wonder if Einstein would have been able to fit so neatly into a box? I'm not saying my girl is Einstein (and I'm definitely not saying she couldn't be), but I am saying that defining a child's ability to learn with such narrow testing leaves out some very intelligent kids.

This whole experience totally reinforced my belief that homeschool was going to be the best fit for Kai. By schooling her at home we'll have the chance to work at her pace. She can do Kindergarten reading and writing and Second grade science if that is what she needs. She'll have the chance to participate in subjects to the extent that she is ready and capable while being challenged in a way that encourages confidence and security in her own abilities.

So she's enrolling in a local homeschool academy one day a week despite the warnings that she may not be ready for the big bad world of Kindergarten. Because I know she is ready. And I know that if I wait a year and enroll her at the age of 6 1/2 she'll be bored out of her mind.

But I've learned something very important here. That I am my daughter's strongest and best advocate. That I know her capabilities better than any test ever can. And that I'm going to have to be vigilant in fighting that she get what she needs from others because no one else will.

(Updated to add: I thought I might need to clarify that on the test she scored in the 5 1/2 - 6 year range on everything BUT the writing portions. Her verbal, social, & categorizing/matching skills all placed her in the older range. But, since the test was so heavily influenced by the writing they averaged her age out to be 4 1/2 years.)

I guess that's just one more thing that goes along with being a mom. Now, let's just hope I'm as right as I think I am.

In the meantime, I'd love to know about how others handle similar situations. Have you had to fight on your child's behalf for the treatment they deserved? Any tips for the rest of us?

My Mom Box

I have dreams of being one of those moms who is prepared for anything. The mom who carries in her diaper bag every item she needs for any situation in which her kids need her. Changes of clothes, diapers, wipes, food, drinks, medicine, emergency sewing kit, etc. You know the type. Heck, you may even be the type. If you've spent more than 2 minutes on this blog, though, you know I'm not that type. I just can't ever seem to get it together that way.

But, I'm trying.

One of the things I've decided to keep with me is a "Mom Box." My goal with this box is to have everything I need for every bump, bruise, teething pain, and episode of colic. And my goal is to do it as naturally as possible.

So, behold the box.


The contents are:

Triaminic Decongestant Spray (for runny noses)
Florastor (for diarrhea and stomach upset)
Band-aids (Because I need those for my kids daily)
Neosporin (see above)
Saline nose drops
Hyland's Bumps & Bruises Ointment

And then the homeopathic medicines from Hyland's:

Aconitum Napellus (colds & fevers)
Arnica Montana (bruising & muscle soreness)
Belladonna (fevers & inflammations)
Chamomilla (teething & irritability)
Ferrum Phosphoricum (fevers & inflammations)
Hepar Sulph. C. (cough & runny nose)

And let me say something about these Hyland's tablets if you're unfamiliar with them. (I swear this is not a sponsored post!) I have used the teething tablets with all my kids and they work miracles. Seriously.

So, I thought maybe their other remedies would work too. And they really, really do. Don't get me wrong. I haven't totally abandoned conventional medicine. But, if I can try a homeopathic remedy first I will. I just feel better about putting something a bit more natural in our bodies as a first choice.

These things are awesome. I've used them with all the kids for a variety of problems and I've had better success than with more traditional medicines in most cases. The Chamomilla soothes Trav better than Tylenol or Orajel ever has. The Aconite has relieved his colic & gas pains better than Mylicon has been able to. Plus, they can be used by grown-ups, too.

I am in love with this kit. And I love having just one little kit that gets me a step closer to being that mom who is prepared for everything and anything. Even if I do end up forgetting diapers & wipes nearly every time we leave the house.

So, what about you? What tricks do you have to help you stay prepared for the unexpected?

(Oh, and BTW, this Mom Box is in the $1.96 pencil box I bought at Wal-mart. Think it was worth all the trouble?)

If at first you don't succeed, try laziness...

Alternately titled: How I Potty Trained My 2nd Born Child

When Ivy was in school last year her teacher encouraged me to potty train her. I thought it was too early (she was not quite 2 and a half) but because I'm eager to please I complied. I sent her to school in panties. And she had a few accidents every day for a while but eventually she was mostly successful at being potty trained.

Then in October I took her out of school. And being pregnant, exhausted, and (if I'm honest) a little lazy I put her in pull-ups to avoid having to clean up accidents during the day. I still encouraged her to use the potty but the presence of pull-ups lead to her regression into the not-even-remotely-potty-trained stage.

And I didn't care. Because I think it is easier to have a kid in diapers with a new baby than one who is teetering precariously on the edge of being potty trained. I know what you're thinking. But, I'd rather change a diaper than my sofa slipcover. Again. Apparently, though, other people cared. And I got some concerned inquiries into when I was going to start potty training again. I always said I'd tackle it when she turned 3. And then she turned 3. But the process was so overwhelming to me that I just couldn't stick with it. Plus my pediatrician said as long as she was potty trained by the end of summer I'd be fine. I was more than prepared to put it off until the end of summer. Or the beginning of Kindergarten. Whichever.

Then about a month ago, Ivy came up to me and said she needed to go potty. Which was nothing new since she'd been half-heartedly doing this all along. But she did it throughout the day. And the next day. And the next.

So I pulled out the Disney and Nick, Jr. panty collection and prepared myself for the weeks and weeks of accidents that would come next. But they didn't. In fact, in one month the only accident we have had was one where she fell asleep for the night without a pull-up on and woke up wet because she couldn't hold it through the night. Other than that? We've been gold.

It was so easy. So completely natural. And so much less painful than the 6 month process I put Kai through just so I could say my 2-year-old was potty trained. God bless her.

With Ivy, I took the lazy way out. And for once it actually paid off.

What potty training tips worked like magic for you? **Bonus points awarded if you give me tips for training boys to file away for when I have to train Trav!**

The Pow-Wow Party

As you might remember from last year, I love birthday parties. Or, I should say, I love throwing birthday parties. Actually, I love throwing parties in general. It is entirely possible that my obsession with putting on events has to do with the fact that I eloped and was thus deprived of the chance to obsess about the most special day of my life. Or not.

Either way, I try to have a big birthday party every year for my kids. It started with Kai's first birthday and we've continued the tradition every year. We've had a Japanese themed party, a Luau, a Pop Art party, a Faerie Forest party, and this year, a Pow-Wow party.

Since the girls' birthdays are only a month apart we do joint parties. It is easier on us and allows us to have one big huge bash where we go all out. I love the way it works out.

The pow-wow theme was really fun to plan for. We had teepee cupcakes for the kids, a Native American scene on the cake for the grown-ups, a rock painting station, a pony bead jewelry station, and (the best part!) PONIES!

With over 20 kids and 30 grown-ups it was important to make sure we had plenty to do, and I think we had just the right mix of activities to keep all the kiddos busy while waiting for pony rides.

Here are a few pics from the party. The girls' outfits were made from thrift store finds and turned out pretty fun. I'll be posting more about how I like to make costumes on the cheap later in the week so stay tuned for more on that...

Every year we have a picture framed for each girl and have guests sign it. They have one from every birthday and I hope someday they'll enjoy having these as reminders of their birthday celebrations.

I kind of messed up and forgot to order a cake for the grown-ups this year. So, in a last minute run to Kroger I found a birthday cake decorated with removable balloons and dismantled it, added some sprinkles for grass & dirt, and used the Native American figures the girls had to play with as decoration. I think it worked out pretty fun!

The teepee cupcakes. I wish I could take credit for these amazing things! They were AWESOME. They were cookie and cream flavor with an actual Oreo baked into the bottom. The cone was filled with Oreo creme and they were absolutely heavenly!

Last (but not least!) were the ponies. Can you tell the girls were loving them?

**Notice how even though I spent 3 days making 20 Native American vests out of paper bags and headdresses out of feathers & posterboard my children aren't wearing either. That's gratitude for you!**

On learning not to take "No" for an answer...

I might have mentioned this before once or twenty times, but I have some spirited children. And that presents some unique parenting challenges.

One of my greatest challenges, though, is pretty standard stuff. Getting them to listen to what I say. Or to what their father says. Or their grandmother. Or...you get the idea.

A couple weeks ago while we were on vacation I was presented yet again with a listening problem. Kai had been playing in my mom's room and kept getting into her make-up, clothes, shoes, etc. Finally, a bit frustrated with her, my mom called me in to intervene.

I hate to see Kai behave this way. I hate when she repeatedly ignores me or her father when she is in a situation where listening is important. So I took her aside and attempted to talk to her about her decisions.

I sat her down, looked into her big brown eyes and tried to explain the situation.

"Kai," I started, "when someone tells you 'NO' that means you can't do it anymore and you have to stop."

But, that didn't seem right to say. So I tried again.

"What I mean is, when someone gives you a rule to follow then you need to always follow it."

But, that just didn't work for me either. Because it occurred to me that words hold such power that I just couldn't speak those into her heart. It felt like I might as well be saying, "You need to always give up when someone puts an obstacle in your path and always follow the rules without question." I didn't want that to be something she started to learn.

And while you might think I'm sounding a bit like a crazy hippie, I do believe there is power in the words you speak into a child's heart. And if I tell her to always listen to the word "NO" or never question a rule, I wonder what she'll miss out on accomplishing in life. Because one thing I love most about her is her determination and perseverance.

But, I also believe kids do need rules and that kids (particularly mine) need to listen to what those who know best for them tell them to do. As my husband is always anxious to remind me, you need to know and understand the rules before you can know when/how to break them. I'm hoping in my kids' cases, they know my rules for a good 18 years or so before they learn to start breaking them.

So, my dilemma was how to explain to her that she needs to listen to me, her father, her elders without planting a seed that "NO" is the end of the road and an obstacle there is no getting around.

Because even though I want to raise well-mannered kids who listen to everything I tell them, I believe it is most important to raise free-thinkers who respect authority while maintaining the ability to think outside the box and challenge accepted norms when appropriate.

How do I do that? What do I say to explain this to my children?

And so, after much agonizing, I came up with a way to explain our position to Kai.

I told her, "Listen to the people who love you."

This was the best way I could find to express to her that it is important to listen to rules that are given to her by people who care for her without impressing upon her that the words "No" or "You can't" are absolute and that she should give up whenever anyone tells her those things.

These words, "Listen to the people who love you," also have even greater implications. It isn't just a matter of listening when it comes to do's and don'ts. I hope it also impresses upon her that she ought to listen to those who have her greatest interests at heart. That she should seek wise counsel for decisions. That she can trust those of us in her life who love her.

Rules are important. And we have our fair share around this house. But, my goal is to communicate to our kids that "No" and "Don't" and "Can't" should have less influence over their decisions than the advice (or strong suggestions) of those who love and care for them.

After all, where would we be today if our founding fathers hadn't had the courage to break a few rules now and then?

For the record, this is not what I thought I'd be writing about when I graduated from college.

The other day I met a new mommy at Ivy's art class. She was a nice, well-dressed, well-spoken woman. She seemed to be intelligent and informed about things going on in the news.

We were enjoying our conversation when her daughter came over and said she needed to go to the bathroom. And the mommy got down to her daughter's eye level, looked at her and said, "Okay, sweetie, do you need to go wee-wee or doodie?"

And it was all I could do not to crack up. Wee-wee? Doodie? Seriously? Who on Earth uses such silly terms for bathroom behavior, I thought in a fit of undeserved self-righteous judgment.

Then my daughter came over and said she needed to go poopy and pee pee.

Busted.

Though I would argue that poopy and pee pee are infinitely more dignified than wee-wee and doodie (ahem), I would lose that argument. Because, truth be told, there is nothing dignified about any of those words.

And yet we use them. My husband and I are grown adults with college educations and decent vocabularies and we say poopy and pee pee on a regular basis. Which, when you think about it, is pretty funny. We also say toot, boobies, and booty-hind (don't ask). Good Lord, we are intelligent folks.

Having realized that day that I, too, engaged in potty baby talk I tried to think of alternatives that would be polite and not too silly. But I came up empty. Maybe that shows a lack of creativity on my part. Or maybe announcing exactly what biological matter is coming out of your body just can't be both polite and intelligent sounding. Either way, it made me wonder what other parents do.

I've heard the arguments for calling private parts by their actual name and not coming up with silly names (though we apparently do that, too) but what is the dominant theory when dealing with bathroom vocabulary? Does anyone actually use "urinate" in place of pee pee with their kids?

So what is it? Poop? Tinkle? #1 and #2? What words do you teach your children to use when dealing with potty matters?

(And in case you're wondering if I'm wondering how I got to the point where I blog about potty words the answer is yes. Yes I am.)

Things I wish someone had told me about breastfeeding...

1. It doesn't always get better after two weeks. Sometimes it takes just a little bit longer. In my mind I only had to make it to the 2 week mark and then everything would be fine. Then I thought it would be easy. Much like everything that goes along with pregnancy, childbirth, and children it didn't happen quite the way I had imagined. It's a very individual process and for me it took about 3 and 1/2 weeks before it got easier. But, I'm so glad I waited.

2. Your breasts are capable of literally spraying your newborn in the face when they are too full. Which can make you feel a bit like a fire hose. Yeah, enough said.

3. Once you get the hang of it, it is actually super nice not to have to worry about bringing bottles with you everywhere you go. I'm one of those moms who could have 1 kid or 15 kids and still never quite get the hang of toting all the required supplies everywhere I go. At least with breastfeeding I know I won't be leaving the essentials at home!

4. Your kids might feel the need to let everyone they meet at the grocery store, church, Target, etc. know that their mommy makes milk in her BOOOOBIEEEES!! And also to specify to unsuspecting waiters and waitresses that they do not drink boobie milk thankyouverymuch.

5. Your dad probably won't be able to look you in the eye while you are breast feeding even if you are completely covered by your Hooter Hider and sitting across the room from him. Sorry, Dad.

You'd think that with three kids I would have been able to successfully breastfeed more than once, but I haven't. Trav is the first of my kids I've actually been able to get this far with. And now that it is going better I think we'll be in it for the long haul.

What about you? Is there anything you wish you'd been told about breastfeeding to make the process easier either emotionally or physically?

Beyond Mother's Day

When I think of motherhood I hold this picture in my head.

I am two-years-old, rosy cheeked and sitting nestled on my mom's lap. I am surrounded to the right by my Mimi (grandma) and to the left by my Grandma Glady (great-grandma).

It is a cocoon of motherhood with me nestled into the middle. The collective wisdom of this council of motherhood drips from the washed out photograph in my mind.

Being a mother is the hardest job I know. I mean that not as a way to disparage other jobs or to exalt mothers above all others. I simply mean, for me, being a mother is not a naturally easy thing. Most days I feel more like the unqualified babysitter for these amazing creatures who have been entrusted into my care. I feel like an imposter. A pretend mother. As if I came straight out of a booth on Canal Street and was marketed to a tourist looking for a cheap imitation to fool everyone around her.

But these women? Surely these women have never felt this way. These women parented through the Great Depression. Or persevered through disease. Or built businesses while they grew families.

And most days I am lucky to get dressed.

In my heart, my mother, my grand-mother, and my great grand-mother are perfect moms. Moms who always knew how to respond to their children. Moms who were strong enough to keep trials and obstacles from stealing their children's innocence. Moms who had the answer to every parenting question I could ever have.

But, though my heart finds them perfect my mind knows the truth. These mothers, the ones who's collective mothering shaped my being in a domino effect of parenting, were mothers just like me. Flawed. Imperfect. Uncertain. But, ultimately, mothers who poured their hearts into their children. Mothers who loved. Mothers who got up every morning and tried again to be a better mother than the day before.

And that is all their children could ask for. It is all anyone can ask for.

Today I celebrate Mother's Day as a mother and as a child. Today I will hug my mom and tell her how much I love her. Just like I did yesterday and the day before.

Because mother's day is not just about loving or being loved for the sake of one greeting card holiday a year. It is a celebration of the unsurpassed love that mothers and children have for each other. It is a celebration of our best efforts and the efforts of all those who have shaped us.

Today I celebrate my mother. And her mother. And the mother before her.

And I will remember to celebrate them every day because of who they made me and how they shaped me.

One for the suggestion box.

Dear God-

I'm not trying to tell you how to handle your business. I know you've got it covered.

But, I thought I'd mention something for you to consider. You know, in case you decide to do this whole creation/humanity thing again somewhere else.

I was thinking the other day that since it takes two people to make a baby, that maybe it should take two people to do other things for the baby. Like, you know, feed the baby.

I get that only one person can carry a baby in their body. And, to be honest, I'm pretty thrilled that I get to be the one to do it. And, even though I might complain sometimes, I really do love that I get to provide nourishment for this life that grew inside of me.

But, I'm worried for my husband. I think he's feeling a bit left out. I can tell from the sounds of his snoring at 3 am that he is feeling like he's missing out on something when I get to wake up every 3-4 hours to feed the baby. He's pretending to enjoy the hours and hours and hours of deep satisfying sleep, but let's get real. It's a ruse. He wants to be a part of feeding the baby. And, I think he (and most men) would be much, much happier if they could also provide food and nourishment for their newborn child. Not to mention, they'd relish the opportunity to have deep personal knowledge of breast pads, nipple shields, and all the other accessories that accompany such endeavors.

I'm not quite sure exactly how this would work. I realize the current model might require some modifications. I'll leave the details up to you. But, I just thought I'd mention it for any future projects you might have up your sleeve. After all, no one should be forced to sleep a deep and restful sleep all night every single night of the week. It's just inhumane.

I'm pretty sure my husband would agree.

Yours Truly-

Jenna

Parenting hurts.

I am not remotely ready to handle certain aspects of parenthood.

I'm not ready to think about letting my kids out into the world on their own where I can't protect them from all the scary bad guys.

I'm not ready to watch them realize the world is often unfair and unjust.

And, as I discovered yesterday, I am nowhere near ready to watch them fumble through awkward social encounters with kids who will try to wreck their self-esteem.

It simply hurts too much to see it happen.

Yesterday we were at a video shoot for a local ministry. They needed some kids to be in the video and my girls were invited. It was a fun experience for them and everything went well until Kai discovered the "big" girls who were also part of the shoot. And like any little girl, she just loves big girls and wants so badly to be around them.

The scene that unfolded as a result broke my heart. They girls couldn't have been older than 10 or so, but to Kai they were practically grown-ups.

Kai enthusiastically approached the bigger girls and tried to get them to notice her.

"Hey! Do you like my outfit. It's my Nina's outfit. Well, not my Nina's outfit, but she gave it to me. I mean, she bought it and had it at her house and then she helped me get dressed today. So, anyways, do you like it?"

The girls only response? They rolled their eyes and started laughing at her. And Kai covered her face with her hands and walked away.

At which point a part of my heart broke away.

Honestly, my face got hot and my eyes teared up and for the first time I realized that I would never be able to protect her from feeling small or silly or unwanted in a social setting. I've always known that there are mean girls out there who will hurt her feelings or belittle her and that no matter how fiercely I want to protect her it will be impossible. That was my elementary school & middle school experience every single day. But to see it happen to my little girl right in front of me and to be powerless to do anything about it nearly did me in. Especially while I'm high (or low) on post-partum hormones.

Luckily I was able to soothe her heart and build her back up in time to send her back out to play with the other, smaller kids. But that was this time. What about next time? How will I protect her from mean kids? How will I prevent these types of things from crushing the beautiful vibrant spirit she has and that she tries to share with everyone she meets?

It hurts to know that this is part of growing up. And that it won't be the last time I have to see her hurt because of a mean kid. But, I'm hoping (and praying) that God will give me the wisdom and sensitivity to handle these occasions with a spirit that will turn these into experiences that make her a stronger more compassionate child.

How have you handled bully problems with your kids? Have you had to deal with physical and/or emotional bullies? How do you make sure your child walks away stronger than before?

Somewhere in the hall someone is screaming.

The good and bad thing about a hospital room on the maternity ward is that it feels a bit like a cocoon. You sit bundled up in bed with this precious new baby and you're pretty oblivious to the rest of the world.

It's blissful and a bit suffocating all at once.

Today the biggest thing we had going on was Traveler's hospital picture session. He, of course, slept through the whole thing. But, he managed to look adorable while doing it.

I bought the cheapest package I could get away with (which is still ridiculously overpriced) and settled back in to my adjustable bed to gaze adoringly into his milky brown eyes.

And then I heard it. Even though my door was closed and I was swept up in my cocoon of new baby bliss, I heard the unmistakable sound of terror and heartbreak.

It was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There was shrieking. And crying. And my heart sunk to the floor when I realized it was another mother here on the maternity ward.

I do not know her story. I do not know what happened. I do know that moments later I heard running and carts streaming through the hall. I heard rushed whispers from nurses about a STAT Team being called. And, I do know that the sound of a mother's heart broken in two is not a sound you forget.

I prayed for that woman for what seemed like an hour. I prayed for her baby. And, I held my own baby bundled tight in my arms and cherished each and every perfect moment with him.

But it reminded me that in every moment of blissful ignorance and in every second of my own selfish joy, somewhere in some hall someone is screaming. And that I should be thankful for every good and perfect moment I am blessed with.

On shushing a rooster (and other exercises in futility)

Sometimes I have these moments. You know, moments where I find myself doing something and I am able to imagine how it looks to the outside and I realize that I really am even more ridiculous than I thought.

Yesterday I had one such moment.

It's the chickens, people. They bring out the crazy in me. I swear.

See, we (read: I) just had to get a few more chickens to add to our coop. I wanted 7 dozen eggs a week so we could sell them easily to friends & neighbors. It's fun. And addictive. And, inevitably, crazy inducing.

'Cause when we got the chickens we got two that would be good for setting (not laying). Basically, it means they're smart and they'll make good moms. Just in case we want to, you know, add one more thing to this household for me to keep alive.

But one of these "smart" hens got out the first day. And now she wanders all over our yard. And she taunts the other chickens. And the rooster.

Yesterday, he'd had enough. He decided to let her have it. LOUDLY.

And that is when I decided to try and quiet him. By that I mean, I started shushing him. And, of course, it didn't work. In fact, it made him mad. So he crowed and clucked more. I got down on his level and shushed him more. Then I begged him to be quiet. I mean I really and truly was pleading with him to quiet down. And I tried to give him treats and convince him he didn't really want to make noise that would disturb our neighbors.

It was there, on my knees in the middle of begging & shushing this noisy bird that I saw him. My neighbor. On his deck. Watching me in amusement as I worked so hard to convince this bird to be quiet. And as I failed miserably at accomplishing my goal.

It occurred to me that as ridiculous as I looked this was a scenario that is quite common for me. I am guilty on so many occasions of drawing attention to myself and making a scene in an effort to avoid drawing negative attention. I'm guilty of trying to manipulate situations that are beyond my control and making myself look like a fool in the process. Because, in the end, there really isn't all that much out there I can control. Except (on good days) myself.

And, I wonder what this is teaching my kids? I tell them that they shouldn't worry about what other people think. I tell them to be happy being themselves. And then I go off shushing roosters.

What about you? Have you ever found yourself trying to take control something clearly outside of your control? How do you overcome these urges?

What no one tells you about the birds and the bees.

Here's what no one ever told me about the "Birds & the Bees."

No one ever told me that I should pay close, close attention to what my parents said about this because someday as a result of the Birds and the Bees, I'd have a daughter of my own to explain it to and no freaking clue how to do it.

No one ever told me that said daughter would start asking about these important things before she even reached her 5th birthday.

No one ever told me that it would be so hard to answer questions like, "Why is our Rooster riding piggy back on our hen?" and "If they're going to have babies, which one of our (8) hens is our Rooster married to?"

And, most importantly, no one ever told me that these issues would come up at the most mundane times and render me completely speechless in 5 o'clock traffic.

So, now what? With a baby on the way and a barnyard harem in the backyard how on Earth do I explain to my 4-year-old exactly what is going on with the whole reproductive process in a way that doesn't guarantee her a spot on a therapist's couch in 10 years?

Here's where I come to you for some help. Because somehow I woke up one morning to find myself swimming in the deep end of the parenting pool completely unprepared!

What went fantastically right and/or horribly wrong in the Birds and Bees discussions in your own life? Did your parents shove a book at you to read or scar your for life with an overshare? With your own kids, when did you get into the whole thing and how did you explain it in a way that answered questions without giving them more than they were ready to hear?

One down. One to go! **updated**

We had a big night at the Loving house.

Last night, for the first time, Thomas pulled a tooth. I mean, he actually pulled the tooth out. Oh, we've lost teeth before. We lost two in July. But this tooth? This tooth was stubborn. And hanging on by a thread. And giving mom the heebie-jeebies with every wiggle it got.

Thankfully, Kai is easily bought off. All it took was the promise of Tooth Fairy loot and a Popsicle and she was on board.

There was plenty of cringing and freaking out and wincing and Kai was actually a little bit nervous, too. But a bit of embroidery floss (purple - of course!) and a few good yanks on the thread and we had lift-off. Literally. It flew across the room and caused a bit of drama, but it was out.

Thank the Lord.

It's next door neighbor is pretty darn loose, too, so I'm imagining we'll be seeing him come out this weekend though hopefully he'll pop out the old-fashioned way. In an apple. Or, better yet, a Sugar Daddy candy bar.

The very best part of all this?

The Tooth Fairy actually remembered to come this time! I must be getting the hang of this mom thing after all...

(Head over to Life is Sweet to see other "Best Shots" of the week!)

**Updated**

So, it turns out we didn't have to wait long at all. Last night after a poorly planned leap from bunk bed ladder to "thinking chair" Kai managed to actually knock her other tooth right out. Let me just say, there was LOTS more blood than the first time but the tears disappeared as soon as her dad reminded her that it meant she'd get more $$ from the Tooth Fairy.

Now, she's got the adorable lisp of a kid who has no front teeth. Which means her dad and I have to try our best not to giggle everytime she exclaims, "Theriothly Guyth!" I need to capture that on video for posterity...

To my children on this historic day,

I feel like this day should not go unnoticed in my documentation of your childhood. But, I struggle with how to explain it to you today.

When I look into your eyes filled with innocence and excitement, how do I explain the importance of this day without also telling you about some of the darkest truths in our nation's history? How do I explain that we live in a country of possibility without revealing to you that there are others who would try to limit your achievements based on your gender or the color of your skin?

How do I tell you that today is a momentous day because only 50 years ago your parents would have been breaking the law by marrying outside of their race? How could I explain that only a few short decades ago you would have been looked upon with disdain and anger by many simply because of your mixed race and yet on this historic day we swear into office our country's first bi-racial president?

To expain this to you now would be destructive. Though, I'm not sure it would ever be a productive thing to explain. But, someday you will know. And someday you will learn how far our country has come.

I am thankful beyond measure that this will likely be something you can never fully grasp. It will seem to you an unbelievable and outdated ideal from a time long ago. I pray that when you are old enough for me to tell you these things you will look at me in disbelief and accuse me of exaggerating the truth. And I pray that when you are even older and can truly understand our national & cultural history you will be filled with gratitude and hope at how much change can be accomplished in such a short amount of time.

For now, I will tell you that we are getting a new president. That it is an important and special day. And that, though politically we may disagree as a nation, we can come together on this day to celebrate the hope and the knowledge that America is and will always be a land of unmeasured opportunity. For all people. Of all colors.

Sometime the best answers are the ones you make up...

The other day Kai asked me an interesting question. She wanted to know where she was before she was in my tummy. Was she, she asked, with God in heaven? Or, was she hanging out with angels? Did God know her then? Where did she come from before she "hatched" out of the egg in mommy's tummy? (Okay, so she doesn't get the whole reproductive process, people. But, she's four. What am I supposed to tell her?)

I thought - hatching aspects aside - it was a really smart question. And, yet, another Kai question that I had to leave largely unanswered. I'm sure theologians have this all figured out. And, I'm sure it is a lot less romantic an idea than the one I've always carried in my head.

I guess I've always believed that babies are with God before they're here. That may make me seem silly or hokey or simple minded, but I'm okay with that. And don't even bother emailing me about how that is directly contradicted by specific Bible verses or the implied nature of God. I'm a mommy. I'm just telling you what I've always imagined to myself.

And that got me thinking. Because, our family has an important anniversary coming up. Last year, on Christmas Eve, we lost Thomas' mom following very unexpected complications from heart surgery. And, now, less than a year later we're expecting a baby that I know Natalie would be thrilled about and I can't help but wonder what she would think and say and do each time we reach a pregnancy milestone.

Just the other day I was telling Thomas how happy I think his mom would be to hear that we're adding a little boy to our family when an unexpected idea occurred to me. Perhaps, she knows all about this boy. And maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to spend a little time with him before he came to grow inside me.

And though that is quite possibly the result of someone who has read too many fairy tales and not enough of the Bible, it is enough to make me smile each time my heart breaks at the thought of all she is missing out on here with this baby. Perhaps she's gotten the greatest glimpse of all into exactly who this little boy is. And, I know she'd cherish the opportunity to be ahead of the rest of us...

And then she smashed it into a million pieces.

My kids. They are a great many things. Precious. Kind. Creative. Smart.

But, right now, coordinated is not one the adjectives I would use to describe them. Not that I can talk. I mean, I'm certain they get it honest.

For a while, I thought it was just Kai. She moves around the world too fast and just doesn't have time to keep up with her surroundings. And, I can't tell you the number of times my girl has plowed into a door frame because she was zooming all over the house at the speed of light.

But, if clumsiness is contagious then I'm certain Ivy has managed to catch it. She's beginning to have a permanent red mark on her forehead from banging into one thing or another. And, just the other night she actually gave herself a big ol' bruise while drinking a cup of milk. Who'd have thought a nighttime cup of milk could be so dangerous?

Thanksgiving Day, though, she took the cake (or the Turkey) in clumsiness.

I've mentioned how my mom's house is. It's beautiful. And impeccably decorated. Basically, it is a veritable mine field for my children. So, Thursday as we're all settling in to cut the Turkey I hear "the sound."

You moms are familiar with "the sound" right? It is the noise that is made by a catastrophic crash that you are certain has left something decimated beyond all recognition thanks to your child. This time around it sounded like a crystal chandelier falling two stories into the family room. Thank God, it wasn't.

Instead, it was my two-year-old bumping into and knocking over a very expensive 5 foot tall glass cylinder floor lamp. And smashing it into a million pieces in the process.

Thank the Lord, she kept moving on past that lamp and didn't linger in the wreckage because it was the thing Thanksgiving nightmares are made of. We could easily have landed in the ER with an appointment with plastic surgery this week. Instead, she escaped unscathed and the only lingering effect was my own sense of mortification at her propensity for damage and relief at her ability to escape without a mark.

I was also pretty thankful it was at my mom's house, 'cause, you know, Grandma's have to love their grandkids no matter what, right? My kids are definitely testing that theory out with each and every visit!

But, what about you? What is the worst damage you or one of your kids has inflicted on someone else's house? Surely, I'm not the only parent uncomfortably familiar with "the sound?" (Please say no!)

Just when I think I can't take it anymore...

Yesterday was beyond horrible. In fact, words can't even describe how horrible it was. But, I'll try.

I'm pregnant and hormonal and sick with some horrible respiratory infection and Thomas' job has slowed down suddenly and he got 8 hours as opposed to 40 hours (he's a contract designer) and my house is a MESS and my kids won't nap and then in the middle of it all Ivy poops on the floor and proceeds to dance in it. And I think. That's it. I'm moving away. And, I'm giving the kids to my mom.

Then I have a Diet Coke and get a really good Greek salad and things start to feel better. But, it's when I get this photo CD in the mail that I think, "awww...look at that family. they are so happy." and I realize how blessed I am.

So, I've decided to give it another try today. Wish me luck.







(BTW, these pics were taken by the AMAZING Kyle Hale here in Atlanta. Seriously, people, if you are in the ATL and you need photography done you have to call this guy. His prices are insanely good and his quality is, well, you can see. He does a beautiful job.)