Been a long time.... since I rock-and-rolled....

Here I am. Alive. Well. Feeling very much alive and well.

Life is more than busy. Let's face it, it's even more than crazy-busy. It's frantic.

I spend my days (and nights) rushing to get things done. Not even over-zealous things, just the basic things like feeding my kids, washing the laundry, and running to the grocery store. I never imagined mom life being so much work! So, for all of you moms out there, buon lavoro! I try not to be so hard on myself. I mean, I have three kids at home with me all day. Two of them are in diapers. And I'm teaching kindergarten curriculum to Beckham as soon as Ava and Lincoln are asleep (if they sleep) in the afternoon. And I'm taking classes online in the evenings. It's not as if I have a lot of "free" time, whatever that is. Life is busy. And, you know what? Life is great.

Not a day goes by that I'm not grateful for my plentiful life. I have everything I've ever wanted and more. I am surrounded by beautiful family and friends. I have every opportunity available to me. I am obnoxiously spoiled rotten. If you know my husband, you know exactly what I mean. The man is too good to me. And he has given me three beautiful babes that shower me in love day after day. I am, very much, living the life I always dreamed of. Not that things don't go wrong. Oh my goodness, how they go wrong! Just today I had to cancel a playdate with one of my best friends because Beckham got in some serious trouble in child-minding at the health club for having an angry outburst toward Ava and then some of the teachers. And, since he is considered a "repeat offender" there, the three teachers in the room decided to call the general manager of child-minding(jail warden) to come down and control the situation. By the time I arrived, all hell had broken loose.

We've been down this road before. It's one of the reasons why we didn't start Kindergarten this year. I calmly walked over and put my arm around a very angry Beckham, and asked him to tell me, personally, what had happened. He was on guard and felt very much under scrutiny by all of the watching eyes. I wanted to turn to the warden and tell her to back off, to let me handle my own child, thank you very much. But, instead I politely smiled at her and tried to make Beckham feel safe. But, she just hovered and listened and cut me off periodically to add her two bits. It was more than annoying.

It wasn't over anything huge - he had gotten mad about his sister not sharing a toy, and when she hit him with it, he had taken matters into his own hands and took the toy from her. When his sister yelled, "Bub-bub, time out!" he got angry and yelled at her and threw the toy. But, since this is not the first time such behavior has occured, they panicked and decided to make an example out of the lad. I felt bad for the kid. As his mother, I certainly know he can let his temper get ahead of him, but I also know that escalating the problem won't help it. He needs time to cool off, rather than being closed in by three teachers and a lady he's never met before who surround him and tell him what he's doing wrong.

(The last time I saw him in this sort of situation was back in Fayetteville when two teachers closed in on him. He had flat-out taken off his shoe and held it up like a weapon to defend himself as they moved closer, and as soon as one of the teachers grabbed him, he bit her.)

So, here we were again. I waved off the teachers, and got between the manager and Beckham. I talked him down, cooly, calmly, and found out all the details. I wanted to laugh out loud when I found out exactly why he was in so much trouble. Pish posh! Really, that's all! Instead I nodded sympathetically and stood up and faced the manager and assured her that I would handle the situation and it wouldn't happen again. Then I followed through and told Beckham he had lost his privileges for the day since I could not trust him to be around other people if he didn't know how to control his anger. Somehow I felt like I was the one being punished in this situation.
I tried not to cry on the drive home. Not because of him. Not because of the "warden." But because I felt so inadequate. I try to be the best mom I can be. I teach my children right from wrong. I give them choices, with reasonable consequences for their actions. I am firm, but always loving. I don't hover and save them, but I'm not a brutal dictator. Well, not usually.  I always ask nicely... again and again, and turn to the drill sergeant voice as soon as it's necessary (more often than I'd like). I try to have a perfect balance of teaching and loving, allowing them to make their own decisions, and then following through with consequences where needed. I spend many many moments dropped to my knees in prayer asking God to please help me be a better mom, to please help me survive a difficult day after a night of no sleep, to please forgive my failings.

Beckham had long since cooled off by the time we got home and was convincing me that it would be alright to go meet up with my friend, but I felt like then he would feel like he was getting away with his recent behavior. So, what is a mom to do?! I even called, right there from the car, and got him an appointment with a psychologist to talk about his anger. He's a normal, albeit rambunctious, five-year-old boy, for crying out loud! Yet, I have people making me feel like I'm doing something wrong!
Anyhow, so that's where I'm at.

Living this dream life, yet crying at the keyboard because I'm just not enough. Not by myself.
I need help. And I HATE needing help.

"The Dark Ages" - or - "Let's Shake Things Up!"

For the past couple of weeks, I have sort of envisioned my current existence as "The Dark Ages." A once educated individual, I have diverted back to a life without reading, writing, or thinking beyond meeting primitive needs for my family - food, clean, sleep, food, clean, sleep. Jordan and I always knew what we were getting ourselves into when we decided to become parents of a third baby during residency. We knew it would be INSANE! But, we didn't hesitate for a moment and jumped into the deep end and have been gasping for air ever since. With no regrets.

You see, the funny thing about diverting backwards to a simpler existence, albeit an exhausting one, is that you begin to reevaluate your priorities. For example, is it really a necessity to make sure the entire house stays clean 100% of the time? These days I'm thrilled to have any one room in the house entirely clean. It's a new simple pleasure in my life. Today I vacuumed the kids' rooms and washed their windows and felt completely renewed! It's amazing how much you can take those mundane things for granted. Also, as much as I love to cook nutritious food for my family, I have learned that there is absolutely nothing wrong with ordering out after a long day of changing diapers and cleaning up spitup.

Even more than learning to overlook the things that aren't necessities, however, I have also started to realize, maybe for the first time since I was a carefree teenager, what actually makes life matter. Is it more important that I fold all the laundry right this minute, or go jump in the leaves with my five year old? What will not only make him (and me) happy, but will contribute to the greatest outcome? I choose jumping in the leaves.

The truth of the matter is, having this third baby has not led to a "Dark Ages" at all. It has led to a renewal of life... It's almost like our little Lincoln jumped right into our family with the motto of "Let's Shake Things Up!"

Now I find myself making every moment matter. I feel renewed in this new life of simplicity, for I don't have the luxury of time to waste. I have to carefully evaluate what needs to be done for my children's health and safety, and next turn to what should be done for my children's long-term happiness. And mine! I am quickly learning that if I don't feel fulfilled in my goals, I am not a happy mom. I have always put so much emphasis on doing everything for everyone else and have found myself so stressed and strained, and even sometimes miserable,that I haven't even begun to fulfill my original goal of making everyone happy. Now, I am finding balance. Solace. Joy!!!

I am becoming the mom I always wanted to be. After we got some basic chores and schoolwork done today, we played in the leaves, created masterpieces with sidewalk chalk, baked cookies, and held a hilarious family talent show where Jordan showed off his clapping pushups, Beckham showed us how he can run faster than Flash, and Ava showed us how she could walk backwards, as little Linc grinned his big toothless grin. I even wowed the kids by "floating in mid-air" with a yoga pose. At the end of the day, I ignored the dishes, and exercised. As the baby cries upstairs, I don't feel overwhelmed at all. I feel grateful. I have a family that loves me and needs me. I love this new way of life. Now, I just hope I can let it linger for awhile ;)

Whooo's That Lady....

Here they are... by popular demand. Since most of you did not get to see my awesome side profile this entire pregnancy, I decided to humor you with the shots Mica took of me after the due date came and went. So, here you are folks... Erin at 40.4 weeks pregnant! I cannot tell you how many cracks I got about "smuggling a watermelon" under my shirt. Yes, yes, I know... the belly is huge!

3 kids!

Lincoln's Grand Entrance

I know it has been a good long while since I have posted on this blog. In fact, I will be amazed if any of my blog followers still bother to even check up on this blog! But, I have the perfect excuse, I swear! The summer was spent being pregnant, finshing up a year of teaching Joy School, juggling kids, finishing my classes which entailed studying and typing papers into the painful wee hours of the morning, taking finals, all as Jordan finished up Internship Year.

We have moved to the next phase. Officially. I'm done with school (for the time being), Jordan has moved on to his Residency, and we now have THREE kids in the house!!!

Lincoln Everett Thomson was born August 30th at 9:06 a.m., weighing in at exactly 8 pounds, 20.5 inches. Although born four days past his due date, he was sure in a hurry to get here! We had just experienced a magnitude 5.8 earthquake earlier that week, followed by Hurricane Irene that swept up the East Coast in her windy, rainy fury. Early the morning of the 30th, around 4 a.m., I was sound asleep dreaming that I was playing pro football, fully pregnant, and I had just tackled the Quarterback at the goal line... he had barely made it, to my team's dismay. As the Quarterback made a big deal over his touchdown, I just stood up and said, "Whatever. I'm having my baby today. I don't have time for this." I awoke at that point. I felt wide awake and alert, but I didn't know why. I considered getting up to work on one of my many projects - cleaning the refrigerator, filing our documents, scrubbing the bathrooms. I laughed at myself for having the sudden urge to get everything done at four o'clock in the morning. Nesting. Ha! I talked myself into staying in bed since I had a full day planned and figured I would need the rest.

I wasn't exactly having contractions at that point, but I just knew that something was under way. Before I knew it, two hours had passed, and I still laid there wide awake as Jordan got up and got ready for work. I considered telling him that I felt like I was going to have a baby that day, but decided against it since I had lost faith in my ability to read my own body. I had called him on several occasions over the past few weeks to tell him that I may or may not be going into labor. All had been false alarms, obviously. So, how could I explain that I felt like something was different about that particular day if I wasn't even having contractions? So, off he went to work, and I still laid there... waiting. It was the strangest thing. It's like I knew what was in store for me, only as soon as I decided I was ready. And, just like that, when I decided to get up for the day, around 6:20 a.m., the contractions started immediately - and they came strong and fast at about three minutes apart.

I called Jordan just as he was walking from the parking garage to his building at work, and let him know that he'd better come home. He got back to the house around 7:15, and we left as soon as the bags were packed at 7:30. The contractions were coming about every two minutes at that point and lasting for about a minute. We had what seemed like the world's longest commute to the hospital. I don't remember every single street having so many potholes before! Or traffic lights taking soooo long! Oh, man, it was agonizing! I kept thinking, "what is taking so long?!" the entire drive. We got to the parking garage around 8:10 and had to find parking, which is always a twenty to thirty minute endeavor at the military hospital. Luckily we got a spot after a few minutes since someone pulled out of their spot just ahead of us. At that point, we took the world's longest walk from the parking garage to the hospital. Every few feet I had to stop and breathe through a contraction. In fact, it seemed like I wasn't having much of a break between contractions at that point. I was terrified that I was going to have the baby right there in the street! We made it into the hospital, but it was still a long journey from building 19 to building 9. People were asking us if we needed a wheelchair and would disappear around the corner to go find one, but I couldn't stop and wait for anything. This baby was coming! I kept walking, and stopping when the pain got too intense, and then walked again.

We finally, finally made it to our building, secured a wheel chair, and then had to wait for an elevator. World's longest wait for an elevator. One elevator opened up and was already at capacity with a janitor and a huge garbage bin. I felt like cursing and crying all at once as I sobbed to Jordan quietly, "we can't fit in there..." as the janitor just stared at us, absolutely dumbfounded. We waited for the next elevator. When it finally came, a whole crowd filed in behind us. And we stopped at every. single. floor. all the way up. Each time that elevator door opened I felt an urge to scream in desperation (which I didn't - I still had some composure at this point, ha ha). I then had a vision of what my new biggest fear was: delivering my baby in an elevator.

We finally made it to our floor... and had to check in at the front desk. They finally let us back into the hallway... where we had to wait for a triage room to become available. I felt like screaming, "triage room?! You've got to be kidding me! I'm IN LABOR!!!" At that point, the contractions were coming one on top of the next with no breaks and I was ready to check myself into a room and deliver the baby myself! I grabbed Jordan's shirt and cried pitifully, "what is taking so long?!" They got us into the triage room, where they determined that, surprise, surprise, "This woman is in active labor and needs to be checked in." I was so annoyed! I was further annoyed with the array of questions that were repeated, verbatim, by three different people as I lay there waiting to deliver a baby. "Do you have any allergies?" "Are you on any medications?" "In the instance that you would need a blood transfusion, do you understand the risks?" "Did you have a strep test performed at your last visit... and what was the result?" and so on, and so forth.

I was hoping for the epidural at that point (gone were my dreams of a peaceful, hypnobirth delivery), but I kind of already knew that it was too late for that. The anesthesiologist, bless his heart, hurried in anyway and started to prep me - just in case he could hurry and alleviate at least some of the pain. As soon as I turned to my side, however, my water broke, and talk about PAINFUL CONTRACTIONS! All of the sudden I felt like I was being beaten from all sides by big men with sticks. Sticks with nails in them. I remember thinking, "So, this is what a 'ten' on the pain scale feels like?" My whole body was shuddering in pain and I couldn't hold it in any longer. With my eyes clenched shut, I cried and cried. (At least I think I cried. If not out loud, I sure was crying to myself.) I don't remember any faces, because my eyes were clenched shut. I do remember one nurse telling me to relax my legs and I just said, "I can't... I really can't..." I had never felt so much at the mercy of other people in my entire life.

And, just like that, Lincoln was born. At 9:06 a.m., after the longest two hours of my life, our little Linc was born, healthy and beautiful and flawless. And everything in my mind went from chaos and unbearable pain to absolute calm. I opened my eyes to see people running in and out of the room (apparently no body had expected such a speedy delivery within minutes of us showing up), but everything seemed silent and peaceful to me. As I laid back onto the bed with a sigh of relief, my whole body shaking uncontrollably from the adrenaline of experiencing so much pain, I watched the nurse clean my baby. I just stared at that sweet baby boy, longing to hold him. I didn't take my eyes off him for a second.

Everything after that was smooth sailing. I got to cuddle with my baby all day and night. Jordan went to pick up Beckham and Ava later that day and they were delighted to meet him. I loved watching their excited faces as they met their brother for the first time! We got to go home after 24 hours, and I had the fortune of having one of my amazing friends, Mica Hale Hauley, here with us to share in the joys (and exhaustion) of having a newborn in the house.

I don't know what I would have done without Mica's help and companionship! I remember feeling so lonely after the birth of my other kids, but this time I felt like somebody was there with me to celebrate and just be there with me! I really am fortunate to have so many amazing people in my life. Mica is like a sister to me. We've known each other since we were about 14 years old. She's been there for every major event in my life. In fact, she was even there the night I met Jordan. And for our first date. And then for our wedding :) It seems more than appropriate that she be here with us for the birth of our baby. I love that girl!

Three weeks has gone by. My baby is getting bigger by the minute (that might have something to do with his current 72-hour growth spurt streak where he has been eating EVERY HOUR like clockwork). As I juggle my three babies, I hope I never forget the quiet peace of being so in love with them and being so grateful to have them here with me, in the midst of the noise and chaos all around.

Today my baby #3 is three weeks old.

The nights are lonely... The days are so sad....

Okay, well the days aren't SO sad. But the nights are long and lonely when your husband is gone working 90-100 hours per week including those dreaded 30-hour shifts. I cannot wait for this rotation to be OVER!!! And, in two more months, we will have survived Internship year, notorious for its long, horrible hours. I don't care what anybody says, this lifestyle affects the entire family. The kids miss Jordan. I miss Jordan. We try to stay busy during the day - which really isn't the challenge. There are always so many things we have to do and want to do in the day. But as soon as night comes, and the kids are tucked away in their beds, I find myself alone in our house.

Since moving in last May, I have never been able to walk into our living room and sit down and relax if Jordan is not home. It feels so sad and lonely in there without him. The couch seems too big and cold. There's no point in turning on the tv because the whole point of watching anything is to sit there with Jordan and laugh together.

So, I either clean or study or stare at my computer screen thinking about how I should study, like tonight, but instead do nothing. I am tired. But, I cannot sleep... not yet... Jordan is gone and falling asleep will be next to impossible. I have so much to do. But I cannot be productive because I'm exhausted. So, I sit. I stare ahead at my empty computer screen where I should be laboriously typing yet another paper. Instead, my head fills with lyrics from years ago.

...And I'm dying inside
And nobody knows it but me
Like a clown, I put on a show
The pain is real even if nobody knows
And I'm crying inside
And nobody knows it but me

Why didn't I say
The things I needed to say
How could I let my angel get away
Now my world is tumbling down
I can say it so clearly
But you're nowhere around

The nights are lonely
The days are so sad
And I just keep thinking about
The love that we had
And I'm missing you
And nobody knows it but me

I carry a smile when I'm broken in two
And I'm nobody without someone like you
And I'm trembling at night and
Nobody knows it but me
I lie awake, it's quarter past three
I'm screaming at night as if
I thought you'd hear me
Yeah my heart is calling you
And nobody knows it but me....

So, there's my sappy, missing-Jordan tale for the evening. This man has haunted me now for over 13 years! It was about 11 years ago that he played this song for me for the first time. At the time we had been broken up for a few months and I had gotten engaged, foolishly, to somebody else during that time. I was an idiot. Yet, Jordan and I both missed each other like crazy despite our stubbornness. I cried over him every night and nobody knew it. Then, right before he left on his mission to Kentucky, Jordan and I spent a few weeks together. He played that song for me right before he left. And that's the first song I heard on the radio the very next day as I got into my car.

It kind of became a theme for us. Missing each other. It has never been easy but we have had several times over the past several years of having to miss each other. Mission, work, school, military. Sometimes it has been a mere matter of tasks taking over and not having enough time together. Other times he has had to go away for a few months for military and school. This year, it has been long hours at work. But, as much as I miss him on nights like tonight, I'm so glad that I have that reassurance that I get to be in his arms tomorrow. Sappy. I know. Blame the pregnancy hormones or the lack of sleep or whatever, but it has been a really long couple of weeks and on nights like this all I really want is my husband by my side and that's something I will NEVER take for granted.

Ban on TV

I'm back from the dead! Or at least from the world of pregnancy exhaustion. :) I just got to week 15 and am happy to announce that I am hungry ALL of the time now rather than cringing at the sight (and smell, and thoughts, and so on) of food. And I have my energy back for doing spring cleaning, getting out for spontaneous activities with the kids, studying regularly, and .... banning television. And that final thing has been an amazing thing!

Introduction into a tv-free environment:
Anyone who knows me already knows that I hate tv. I don't enjoy watching it and have never had a desire to have a tv for any reason other than watching the occasional movie. Through most of our marriage we have not had television. Occasionally Jordan would sign up for a three month summer deal or would get cable just long enough to watch the NBA finals, but other than that we haven't really cared to have tv set up in our home. Therefore, Beckham has grown up in a television-free environment. And it has always been such a great thing. He's an active little boy and doesn't care to sit still anyway. Every now and then I would buy him a $5 movie at Target of Elmo's World or Thomas the Train or whatever his current phase was at the time.

The slippery slope:
About a year ago, we signed up for Netflix and all of the sudden he had all sorts of great kid shows to choose from. Commercial free, might I add ;) With a combination of him being old enough to fall in love with cartoons at age 3 1/2 and the birth of Ava, he was all of the sudden watching 1-2 hours of netflix cartoons every day. Then we moved and Jordan wanted to get a satelite dish to watch sports and politics... and Beckham was introduced to the world of cable tv. Unlimited cartoons on at least a dozen stations playing all day long! It was a 4-year-old's dream! And, for the sake of saving my sanity, I let him watch about an hour a day while his baby sister napped and while I got ready for the day. It was the perfect babysitter. And then for Christmas he got his first video game and he was ecstatic! So, on top of his hour of tv every morning, he was begging to play his video game for an hour every afternoon.

The accidental epiphany:
Then, something happened. He had started taking food out of the kitchen every morning without asking. Not just any food, but any junkfood he could find. If we didn't have candy or popscicles, he would eat all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms, or eat all of frozen fruit in the freezer. We tried taking away privileges, and nothing was working. Then, I took away tv and video games for a whole week and told him he would have to earn that privilege back by NOT taking food without asking that entire week. It worked like a charm. But something else happened, too. Beckham started playing with old toys again, drawing pictures, sculpting with playdough, building blocks, reading more books, building puzzles, completing his pre-k workbooks (sometimes an entire book in one sitting!), and participating more and more in make-believe play. His behavior changed significantly. Less arguing and bad attitudes and more politeness and cheerfulness. I never worried about his activity level because he has always been extremely active, but I guess I forgot about all of the other productive, educational things he was missing out on while wasting away his time in front of the tv for 1-2 hours daily. I mean, think of what you could do as an adult with an extra 1-2 hours per day... and then double that productivity level with the energy of a young child who soaks everything up like a sponge. At this rate he could learn Chinese in a year! ha ha!

The academic studies to back my claim:
I remember in college doing a research paper for my Philosophy of Childhood class. It was about the long-term effects of television on children. Thousands of studies have been carried out on the subject, and most of them say the same things, essentially. I looked into these studies again and read an article posted by the University of Michigan. Extensive television watching and video game playing leads children to anti-social behaviors, eventual adult obesity or poor lifestyle habits, attention difficulties in school, sleep difficulties, behavioral problems - particularly in boys acting out violently, making poor choices in their teenage years regarding sex, drugs and alcohol, and poor study habits. Television also takes away from more enriching activities such as reading (which, neurological studies show, activates the brain significantly more than staring at the television), socializing with family and friends and learning and practicing good values in the process, getting outside for exercise and fresh air, and practicing skills such as music or drawing and so on. Anyhow, it all came back to me as I watched my own son revert back to his productivity level from the pre-tv days. And I was sold. No more regular tv from now on.

The new lifestyle of my 4-year-old:
We have made tv a special "entertainment" privilege. He can watch for 30 minutes a day if he has already done all of his chores and his homework (which for him means making his bed, cleaning up his toys, and completing at least one lesson in his pre-k lesson book), and if he has followed all the household rules such as not taking food without asking and being nice to his sister. Then he chooses a show, if he wants. But I have found that MOST days the tv doesn't even go on and he doesn't even request it or miss it... which actually allows us to have a little more flexibility as parents on those random days when he does want to watch two or three shows at a time because there's just nothing else to do or he's tired, etc. As far as the video game goes, now he gets to play it for 30 minutes once a week as a special privilege for the week. And he loves it! As soon as it's his day to play, he treats it like we're taking him to Disneyland.


So, what's my point in all this? I feel like I got sidetracked as a busy parent for awhile there and was using the television as my babysitter for my kid so I could get things done. Once I realized, again, all the long-term negative effects this habit would have and all the good that could come of decreasing the amount of television in his life, I feel almost enlightened! This no tv thing has been a wonderful thing for Beckham, will be a wonderful thing for our family in the long run, and - here's the great part! - my fear of banning the tv creating more work for me in the end actually isn't true at all. Now Beckham is keeping himself occupied with better, more educational endeavors while I get the baby down for a nap or while I exercise. I'm convinced once again, tv is such a waste of time! Now that's not to discredit the good that can come out of tv. I think with limited, parent-censored tv, kids still get valuable things out of it such as cultural education, creative imagination, interactive stimulation, (and somethin-somethin combobulation... perhaps I'd be able to come up with a more creative ending to all of this if I did a little more reading myself :)

The First Trimester Blurrrrr

I have no energy for typing on this blog lately. In fact, I hesitated even starting this post knowing very well that it would be very short, sweet, and absolutely uneventful. The first trimester of pregnancy has never felt so absolutely exhausting before! I count myself lucky for having experienced two very easy pregnancies in the past because this current one is hitting me like a ton of bricks. I had never gotten so sick before... Luckily I know someone in the drug business and got some Zofran immediately ;) I never thought I would welcome any drug into my life so readily. That miracle drug has been what has saved me from absolute misery and I kiss the feet of whoever invented it. As far as the old lady exhaustion goes... well, let's just say I'm doing the bare minimum these days. I wake up, keep the kids fed and happy all day, and that's just about it. By the time they are in bed for the night, so am I. I joke with Jordan that it might look like I'm doing absolutely nothing, but there's actually a whole factory production going on manufacturing a human-being with fingers and toes and a nervous system and a fast little heart beat and, frankly, it's just taking up all of my resources. So, by the looks of this blog, it might look like I haven't been up to much... But, I assure you, I AM, I AM! Thankfully, I only have one more week until the first trimester has passed and then hopefully I can start getting more energy, stop feeling so sick all the time, and can add some cute pictures of the kids to this blog!

I will add a cute story about Beckham because he just cracks us up every day. Lately he insists on wearing something very unique that will get attention and will "look cool." He wears his Captain America costume quite often. One day it got dirty and I told him that I'd have to wash it and he got so upset and said, "But, mom! Then no body will think I look cool!" Then he asked if he could put on his new church suit. That always gets a lot of attention at church, so he figured he should wear it to the grocery store. I told him "no." So, the next thing I know, he's up in his bedroom putting on camo pants with his "super hero belt" and a lime green shirt and THREE clip-on neck ties. He found a way to still stand out and look super-cool. I laughed so hard (not at him... just later when telling Jordan about it). Then, today, he wanted to wear his baseball hat to Joy School. I told him he couldn't wear it to class because it would be too distracting but that he could wear it in the car. Again, he wanted to look cool, so he made a point to wear it as he got out of the car and waited for all of the other kids to notice him and only then did he take off his hat and hand it to me and run inside to join his friends. This kid makes me laugh every single day. He is always doing such cute things!

So, that's us. More eventful, energetic, exciting things to come in the near future (I HOPE!)

Surprise!

Christmastime was a whirlwind of activity. I have yet to download the photos to add to our blog! With sick kids, a constantly-working husband, holiday festivities, shopping, baking, parties, visits to friends and neighbors and the elderly, all the while feeling like I had some sort of persistent flu bug that wouldn't go away... well, it has just been impossible to keep up with emails and blogging.

I never get sick. I never get the flu shot because I've never needed it before and I've never regretted not getting it. I have the immune system of a horse (do horses have great immune systems?... I just always assume that "healthy as a horse" comment has some clout). I proudly and mercilessly fight off anything that comes my way. When someone in my family gets sick, I whip out my get-well remedies and heal them overnight (for this, Jordan thinks I'm a witch... and because I can predict weather, have strange psychic abilities and put hexes on him from time to time... but we won't go into any of that, ha ha). But, then all of the sudden there was this relentless nausea and exhaustion that would not go away no matter what I tried. There was absolutely no way I was pregnant, so I ruled that out. NO way. So, I pushed through the holidays trying to ignore my symptoms waiting for them to pass.

Two days after Christmas the symptoms not only hadn't subsided, they had gotten worse! Not only that, it was affecting me in every way. All of the sudden egg nog tasted like Lysol cleaner might taste. Then it happened to the broccoli. I couldn't figure out what was happening to me! I was beginning to question my super-human ability to fight infectious disease. Was I becoming soft in my ripe old age of 29? Then, it happened. I gagged while brushing my teeth one night. That has always been the tell-tale sign for pregnancy in the past. I LOVE to brush my teeth. I will sit and brush my teeth for 10 minutes if I have the chance, but when I'm pregnant I gag on the toothpaste and can't stand it for longer than a couple of minutes, tops. So, at the store, just to humor myself, I bought a pregnancy test. I snuck it into the cart the same way Jordan sneaks in soda pop and junk food. It was going to come out negative anyway. But, I threw in a kit with two tests... just in case.

As soon as we got home I stealthily ventured into the bathroom upstairs... where Ava followed me. I opened the pregnancy kit, laughing to myself about having even bought it and just knowing it would come out negative. As Ava pulled on my pant leg crying for me to pick her up and Beckham hollered for me downstairs (he still didn't know where I disappeared to), I watched two pink lines appear instantly in the indicator window. Pregnant, eh? Nope. Couldn't be. That one was defective. I threw it away instantly.

I mentioned it to Jordan in passing a few minutes later. It went something like this: "So, I took a pregnancy test a few minutes ago... and it says I'm pregnant. But, I'm going to take another test because something is wrong with that one. I probably didn't do it right (total lie - I have done at least 20 of these in the past few years while trying for baby 1 and 2)." He excitedly embraced me and told me he loved me as he congratulated me, completely baffling me by his utter excitement. Couldn't he see I was terrified... and nervous... and TERRIFIED?! I kept a calm, cool face as I explained I would just go ahead and take another test the next day, no big deal.

Yeah, right. Like I was really going to wait an entire day.

Less than an hour later, the kids were in bed and I quite literally ran into the bathroom and tried again. Two pink lines appeared instantly. Huh. Two positive pregnancy tests. Go figure. Both defective? I mean, I just COULDN'T be pregnant. That's not how it works. An an "experienced" mom of two, har har, I know how this goes. And the way it goes is this: we talk about having a baby for about a year, then we try to get pregnant for a year, then we inform the doctor that it has been a year with no luck, at which point I start the round of fertility medications for several months, all the while taking pregnancy test after pregnancy test, month after month, hoping for a positive reading, until the time has finally come when I see those two pink lines on that plastic contraption I have grown to both despise and love... and THEN we give everyone the wonderful news of "Hooray we're pregnant!"

Now, here I was, with a baby who was just shy of turning one, still nursing, and we'd only barely decided to try for baby #3 on a whim a few weeks ago (our third and final - and might I add: fearful - attempt at making babies ... we both knew we wanted a third, but we both felt like the longer we waited the more we'd chicken out, so we took the "now or never" approach).... Could it really happen THAT FAST?

YES... YES, IT COULD.

And Baby #3 wasn't going to give us the option of backing out or deciding to wait a year or two. This baby is on it's way, ready or not!




P.S. And, after the initial fear and denial, I am very excited about this :) I was afraid because I know exactly what I'm in for, but thankfully I love every minute of this relentless - yet rewarding - job called motherhood. I was in denial because it seems like it was TOO easy. It's like as soon as we made this spontaneous decision it just happened overnight, which is a new experience for us. I'm used to the year of planning, the year of trying, and then the 9 months of being pregnant - it's always a 3 year process. Now all of the sudden it's this instantaneous event that makes perfect sense and no sense to me all at once. For starters, Jordan, the logical-about-everything-super-planner was so on board with trying for a baby with no prior planning, no spread sheets, no diagrams or budget forms or calendars of due dates based on conception dates - he was just all for jumping into this decision. Secondly, as soon as I found out I was pregnant, he wasn't at all shocked and surprised, only excited and happy. Come to think of it... maybe Dr. Thomson has been slipping fertility pills into my drinks for the past few months and planned this whole thing??? Tricky man.

(AND, on a side note, if anyone knows of student who would like to live in D.C. rent-free for a semester while getting paid as a part-time nanny, I'm definitely considering hiring someone to help me out for the first few months!!!)

Tried and True... Broken-In Mommy

Every now and then I feel as if I'm being tested - by my kids, by my husband, by the powers that be - to see if I'm really cut out for this mommy business.

Luckily, I always pass. So far.

These past two weeks have been a little rough. Beckham had three days of being sick where he not only felt miserable with a fever of 103, but was also throwing up. Jordan happened to be working on-call at the hospital the entire time, which seems to always be the case when something is going terribly wrong at home. As I tried to keep my 4-year-old hydrated and cooled off and well-rested, I was toting around a happy baby on my hip. As soon as she would go down for a nap, there I was scrubbing vomit off of floors and walls and toilets and doors, and sanitizing the entire house in hopes that nobody else would catch the bug he had. I spent night after night caring for a sick child, feeling so absolutely helpless that he had to feel so miserable and wishing I could magically make him feel better. I slept by his side, I catered to his every need, and at one point got teary-eyed because I felt so overwhelmed with love for this kid. I really would do ANYTHING for him.

As soon as he was feeling better, I was rushing to quickly put together the Joy School Christmas Party and Kindergarten Readiness Lessons for the week as well as preparing for the party we were throwing at our house that weekend. The day of the Joy School Christmas Party, one girl showed up to my house absolutely plagued with illness! She was coughing a hoarse, raspy cough the entire time as goop ran down her face. Since she's only 3, bless her heart, she would cough on everyone around her as she walked by, wipe her nose with her hands before touching all of the toys and craft supplies, etc... without realizing that I stood there wincing each time, praying that my children would stay healthy and wouldn't get sick again. The next day I frantically cleaned my house and had a little Christmas get-together with some local friends. Then, two to three days later we all suddenly have horrible colds with fevers.

Now my baby has that hoarse, raspy cough and runny nose with a fever that seems identical to the symptoms displayed by the 3-year-old girl at my house that day and I find myself ranting on the inside about how parents should not send their sick kids to other people's houses to get an entire family sick! (Which I would never say out loud because I know these things happen and I love their sweet family and would never want to offend them - and can safely type it here because they'll never see this blog :)

So, now I'm taking care of a coughing 4-year-old and a sick-as-can-be 11-month-old WHILE I'm also sick and I'm wondering if this is MY test this week and I can't help but laugh at the irony. Last week I passed the test of taking care of one sick child while juggling a healthy child and household responsibilities on very little sleep and I think I may have become a little prideful after mastering this feat. Now things have been kicked up a notch and I'm taking care of two sick children while I'm sick myself still running on very little sleep while running around preparing for Christmas.

So, Santa, if you're out there, all I want for Christmas this year is a full night's sleep and a healthy family. If you can give me that, I promise I'll stop whining and complaining about how tired and achey and sick I am and be a good mommy all year long.

merry christmas everyone

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Years and Years of Dedication, Hard Work, Sacrifice....

Tonight, as everyone else was going to bed for the night, I watched as Jordan changed into his work clothes to pull a 10-12 hour graveyard shift in the Emergency Room down in Fairfax, dealing with drug addicts, drug-seekers, detox and overdoses, bar fight patients, vaginal bleeding, suicide attempts, kids with fevers and coughs and diarrhea, lacerations, you name it. All the while he helps these patients to the best of his ability, using vast medical knowledge with great confidence and know-how, trudging through the late night and wee hours of the morning, helping patient after patient, always with a great attitude.

Like all residents, he does this while getting reamed by some know-it-all attending who has something to prove by being a jerk. After hours and hours of this, Jordan drives home, exhausted, in the morning rush hour traffic of D.C. for 2 hours. He gets home, crashes on the couch in the basement for awhile, wakes up, eats, studies, and starts all over again with another 10-12 hour graveyard shift.

I cannot accurately express to you how much dedication, hard work, and sacrifice goes into this career. He worked so hard for four years as an undergrad to get the top grades, taking the hardest science classes, volunteering at hospitals, passing the MCAT, while working a full-time job... all of this just to get his foot in the door and get into medical school. Once in medical school, he was waking up at the crack of dawn to study for upcoming board exams before going to class all day, taking a brief 10 minute break for dinner, and then studying all night for exams for his classes. Weekends included. During 3rd and 4th year rotations, he spent a total of 5 months living away from home. He worked extremely hard while simultaneously studying for boards. After passing board exams and getting through those years of medical school, he got into his dream specialty: Ophthalmology.

So, here we are in the inevitable Internship year. 80-hour work weeks. On call every 3rd night. 30-hour shifts without a break, sometimes even without a meal. This man goes to work each and every day making a difference in many lives with a smile on his face. He cares about helping them. When he comes across something he doesn't have the answer for, he comes home from his long shift and studies about it. He has been going to school and studying HARD for years just so he can help his patients. He doesn't do it for the paycheck. He doesn't do it for the recognition. He does it because he is a caring doctor. And I'm willing to bet that he's not the only one. I know doctors get a bad rap sometimes - people tend to think they are overpaid for what they do. I can tell you here, they are NOT. Doctors sacrifice their youth to study. They pay for a solid education and live below the poverty line as students for 8 full years of school. They get overworked while being seriously underpaid all throughout their residencies and training years. Once they do get a paycheck, they get to pay off years worth of medical school student loans. Aside from the fiduciary sacrifices, they sacrifice their time with their loved ones. They sacrifice sleep, proper nutrition, recreation, any semblance of a normal life. I have watched Jordan work so hard for the past 8 years and am amazed at this level of dedication and sacrifice. It is hard on an individual and on a family. We move a lot, we live like students with the bare minimum, my kids rarely see the father they love as he's out sewing up some guy who got in a fight or counseling a drug-seeker.

He never complains about his long hours. He works nights, weekends, holidays... never complaining. And I realize that every doctor out there has gone through what my husband is going through. I don't think I ever appreciated that fact to the full extent until witnessing it first-hand. Where would our society be without these dedicated men and women? This does not only go for doctors for that matter. I know there are other professionals out there that dedicate so much for a good cause. But, for the sake of personal experience, let me just say, DOCTORS WORK SO DAMN HARD! I love my husband. He has such a great attitude. He is so intelligent and hard-working, but he doesn't give himself enough credit for this. He just goes on day after day working hard, providing for his family, changing lives. In fact, he'd probably be downright embarrassed reading this because for him it is all out of duty. He doesn't do it to be recognized. He does it out of duty.

I got a letter on my door the other day, left by the garbage man, telling us who to make our check out to in order to tip none other than the same garbage man that left the note. I am happy to tip my garbage man, don't get me wrong, but I chuckled a little and thought of a great line from The Office:

Dwight: "Why tip someone for a job I'm capable of doing myself? I can deliver food. I can drive a taxi. I can, and do, cut my own hair. I did however, tip my urologist, because I am unable to pulverize my own kidney stones."

Well said, Dwight. Well said. :) Not that you should start tipping your doctor, by all means! But I do wish more people would appreciate their doctors instead of complaining about how much money doctors make. Yes, some doctors out there make a lot of money... after, 8 years of school + 4 or more years of residency + 10 years minimum to pay off medical school loans = 22 years or so of dedication, sacrifice on every level and really, really hard work. Okay, I'm done with my rant.

The Amazing Powers of... Slacker Hoodie!

This morning I awoke to a very energetic 4-year-old climbing on my bed asking me to button up his "Army pants" and put on his belt for him. It was after 7:00, but I was still so exhausted. I rolled over, dazed and barely functioning as my numb fingers tried to do up a simple button and belt. I was amazed at how tired I was. I had gotten 7 hours of sleep... well, minus the two times I was up in the night with Ava. So, why so tired? Knowing that Jordan was already downstairs studying for board exams, I sent Beckham down to get his breakfast without me and I fell asleep until 8:30 and didn't roll out of bed until 9:00! And I only got out of bed then because Beckham was urging me to hurry and get ready so he could go to Joy School, which starts at 9:30. Even Ava was still sound asleep in her crib. She really kept me up for quite awhile at 5:00 in the morning, so she was having the luxury of sleeping in while I dragged myself out of bed begrudgingly and threw on none other than a pair of exercise pants with... Slacker Hoodie.

This is my long-standing go-to hoodie on days like today when my energy is already 99% spent. Here's the funny thing about Slacker Hoodie: It doesn't MAKE me a slacker. It tricks me into THINKING I am being a slacker.

Here is my day from the moment I put on Slacker Hoodie to give you a demonstration of it's super powers:

Drove Beckham to Joy School, got home, fed Ava a snack as I cooked Jordan his breakfast (he is home this week studying, so I get to cook him breakfast), fed Ava her breakfast, snuck in a glass of orange juice for myself while she was occupied, cleaned up the breakfast mess that was all over Ava and all surrounding areas, got Ava dressed, made the beds and sorted dirty laundry, finally put on my makeup for the day and fixed my messy ponytail, loaded the baby up in the car and picked Beckham up from Joy School, had a parent's meeting regarding upcoming Joy School events and lessons, drove home, fixed everyone lunch, cleaned up everyone's lunch mess, put Ava down for a nap, painted the wall at the bottom of the stairs while Beckham watched a cartoon, located the Christmas decorations, had a talk with Beckham about the cartoon he was watching and how they weren't talking nicely and how he's not allowed to talk that way, looked up information regarding vehicle licensing and registration and taxes for the states of Maryland (where we live) versus Virginia (where we are legal residents) since our plates expired today from the state of North Carolina (where we used to live) and then made some business phone calls while simultaneously entertaining Beckham, made a grocery list, cleaned the kitchen, got Ava up from her nap and changed her diaper, took the kids grocery shopping, got home and sent Beckham straight to timeout for his poor attitude and disrespectful behavior while grocery shopping, cooked bread and pasta and made a salad for dinner, got everyone into the dining room for dinner, sat down, realized everyone still needed forks... and napkins... and drinks... and Beckham wanted salad, too... and the toppings for the salad... and more bread... all the while I was feeding Ava and running in and out of the kitchen meeting the unlimited needs flying from every direction, then we finished up our dinner, Jordan left to his meeting, I got the kids into the bath and got them ready for bed, fed the baby and laid her in her crib, read Beckham his books and sang Christmas songs and said prayers and then had a discussion with Beckham about how Jesus can hear our prayers and how he knows if we're sorry for knocking over our baby sister (Beckham was really concerned about this), cleaned up the bath mess, came downstairs and sat down at the computer to pay bills and instead typed up this blog to decompress.

Awwwwwhhhhhh....Phewwwwwww...... Breathe.

That's my "slacker day." It's 8:00PM now and I still have to...dum dum dum, bake cookies and pies to donate to the Wounded Warriors program at Fisher House for tomorrow morning, clean up the dinner mess, take out the garbages for trash pick-up, set up automatic bill-pay for a new bill, study and submit two assignments, address and stamp Christmas cards to send out, remember the other thing I was supposed to do tonight and somehow forgot, and then maybe I'll get a chance to FINALLY put those exercise pants to use and get a workout in before the day is through. I could use some yoga tonight. We'll see how tired I am by the time I get to that point in my schedule. I guess I could always do that first. What to do, what to do?!?!

Slacker Hoodie works miracles, I'm convinced. Without having typed this log of today's events I would have never guessed how productive and hard-working I have been. My body seems to think I've been lounging around all day relaxing... All because of... Slacker Hoodie! Thanks again, dear old friend.

My typed journal entry about the kids...

When Beckham was a baby, I took time each month to write about all of the cute things he was doing at that stage in his life. At the time, I remember thinking I would never forget about all of those wonderfully adorable things that he did, but wrote them down anyway, just to have them recorded. Now that he's 4 years old, I am so glad I wrote it all down because I have forgotten so many things so fast! I blame the "mom brain." I am perpetually exhausted and have so many things I have to do and think about all at once that it's amazing my brain hasn't completely short-circuited by now! But, here I am, with very little time for sitting and writing (which is ironic because my degree is in Creative Writing, go figure) and wishing I still took the time to chart those wonderful moments shared between me and my children. I was sitting at the computer paying bills and reminiscing about those quiet moments during Beckham's naps when he was a baby. I would take him on long walks and as soon as he fell asleep I would pull out my journal and quickly jot down as much as I could before he woke up. I no longer have that luxury. If I had only known what a rare thing it was to have a quiet moment, I sure would have appreciated it more. But, here I am, reminiscing, and decided that while I am at my computer I am just going to quickly jot down a few things about each of my kids before I forget. This is for me, so I can some day scroll back down to this post and either print it out or copy it in my journal, but feel free to read on if you dare venture into my long-winded world of writing.

Ava is a very dainty little girl. She likes to stand on her tippy toes as she holds on to furniture, and sometimes even extends one leg behind her with her toe perfectly pointed like a ballerina. When she lets out her little sneezes and I say, "Oh my! Bless you!" she smiles so big and then lets out little pretend sneezes just so I'll say it again. When she's thirsty she does a pretend cough like she's absolutely parched and as soon as she gets what she wants, whether it is water or breastmilk, she takes a drink and then pulls away and gives a devious grin like she just got her way and got the best of you somehow. She loves to play games of peek-a-boo. She will grab anything nearby like a jacket or blanket or toy to put over her face and then pull it off and wait for you to say "boo!" Especially when she is in the bathtub, though, she likes to crouch down and then pop back up with a big smile on her face and wait for that "boo!" When she crawls she likes to be chased, especially by Beckham. We all take turns crawling after her and she giggles and crawls as fast as she can, periodically looking behind her to make sure you're still chasing her, until she face-plants into the floor because she's trying to go faster than her little arms can carry her. She didn't stick with the mushy baby food for too long. She was a late starter with solids, not showing any interest until 6 months (with Beckham we had to start right at 4 months because he was always hungry!), but after a month or two of eating the mushed up food she decided that she was ready for finger foods. She eats so daintily, taking one little tiny piece of food at a time and placing it in her mouth. It can take her over an hour to eat her meal, but if you try to take her out of her highchair before she is done she will scream out in rage and let you know just how upset you have made her. She has very expressive eyes. When she's furious, you can see it in her eyes. Then she becomes instantly happy and you can see that in her eyes too. She loves to drink water out of a glass, not a sippy cup. She gets so excited when she sees me pour a glass of water, letting out a big excited gasp and banging her hands up and down on her high chair. She learned to clap recently. We always clap to cheer for our kids' achievements and one day she picked up on it and started to clap her hands together. Now she claps every time she gets excited. She also likes to eat bugs. It is disgusting. There are these beetles out here in Maryland that are everywhere... kind of like the June bugs in Utah. Anyhow, they are harmless little bugs, but when they sense danger they will let out this odor that smells like Aquanet hairspray... a very strong odor. One day I smelled it, and saw that Ava was making a face... sure enough, it was in her mouth. When I swiped it out of her mouth she was absolutely outraged that I took it from her. I washed her mouth out in the bathtub and thought at least she had learned her lesson about eating bugs. Nope. About a week later she tried it again. Funny girl. I don't remember Beckham ever trying to put so many random things in his mouth. Ava is not quite as adventurous as her brother, but she adores him more than anybody and tries so hard to keep up with him at the park or around the house. She crawls quickly after him wherever he goes. If she starts crawling somewhere we don't want her to go, all we have to do is say, in a stern voice, "Ava, come back" and SHE COMES BACK! Amazing! Beckham would have looked us straight in the face and done exactly the opposite at that age (and now, too!)

Beckham is a wonderful older brother, although he likes to push his little sister around and knock her over quite often. He is in the phase where he insists on dressing himself and he comes up with the most creative outfits. One day he will don his 3D glasses, rocker baseball cap, soccer wrist band, t-shirt, khakis, and fully-loaded backpack, ... The next day he will have on his construction worker hat, a mix of various t-shirts layered on top each other, jeans, and rainboots. He also follows themes. He will dress in all Army one day, all rocker clothes another. He is always very proud of his ensembles. I wake up to him standing over me on my bed showing off the day's outfit. Yesterday I woke up to him standing over me wearing a normal-looking outfit at first glance... then he turned around and I saw the bright orange six-shooters stuffed in his pants at each hip. He is such a funny, cool kid. He loves having popcorn movie parties in the living room, but doesn't like to do them alone - it has to be a social event. He likes to play games where everyone fights with superpowers, like blowing each other away, shocking each other through electrical currents in the ground, freezing each other, shooting spider web nets at each other, etc. In the end, Beckham has all of the superpowers and conquers us all. He also likes to play a game called "Dragon." He hides as you look for the dragon, and then he comes out of his hiding spot and chases you as you scream, "Ahhhhhh, Dragon!!!!" One day I took him to the park... I'll mention here that he had insisted on wearing the Captain America costume to the park that day... and he was a little shy as soon as he saw all of the kids there. He asked me, before we even entered the gates, if I would ask the kids to play with him so he wouldn't have to play alone. But, as soon as we entered the park, all of the kids started to point in awe and say, "Wow, that kid is Captain America!" and "Cool, look at his Captain America costume!" That's all it took for him to break out of his shell. He proudly walked up to the kids, hands on hips in true superhero fashion, and said in his deep "official" voice, "I'm Beckham." Everyone introduced themselves and then they all started playing together. I heard Beckham mention a few times, "I am a big brother because I take care of my baby sister over there," as he pointed in Ava's direction. Pretty soon we had every kid at the park running around playing Dragon with Beckham. The parents all sat on the bench as the sun started to set and joked with me that they needed to hire me to wear out their kids every night before bed. It was a fun day at the park. Beckham is always quite the helper in the kitchen as well. He loves to make smoothies, and has become quite good at doing it himself with very little help. Impressive for a 4-year-old. He has been bringing me breakfast in bed lately, consisting of string cheese and raisins and water. Mmmmm... ha ha ha! Isn't that what everyone loves to eat to start their day? It is hilarious. He is a loving boy, despite his all-boy rambunctiousness and fearless, adventurous spirit and tough kid attitude. He draws me pictures of hearts and says, "it's for love because I love you." He climbs into bed with me anytime Jordan is working at night but doesn't do that when Jordan is home. He is sensitive and caring, which is almost surprising because he is so hard-core himself. He doesn't cry unless he is really badly hurt, yet he is very in tune to everyone else's feelings. He's such a good boy. And smart! He asks so many intelligent questions. The other day he asked Jordan the question, "Dad, what is cell regeneration?" I was impressed. He asks questions like "What is blood made out of?" and "If Heaven is up in the sky, do we take a plane there when we die?" and "Why do people go to a bunch of different churches? Why doesn't everyone go to the same church??" and "Are my eyeballs connected to my brain?" He asks questions all day long, wanting to know about everything. His favorite book right now is one of Jordan's med school anatomy books. What impresses me the very most is the level of questions he asks as he looks through this book. He sounds so intelligent. Well, the kid was born in medical school... the morning of Jordan's first exam... It's no wonder.

We love our kids so much. Of all the things in my life, having kids is by far the greatest thing I have ever done or will do. They are everything to me.

Our upcoming Christmas card...

Merry Montage Christmas

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View the entire collection of cards.

Day 30: A recent photo + 3 good things that have happened in the past 30 days...

Here's a comic book version of me in a flea market in NYC just 6 days ago (although it feels longer)... just to mix things up after 30 straight days of regular photographs and long posts.

This daily posting has been fun, though. It has given me a project to work on while avoiding my real, adult responsibilities for 10-15 minutes at a time over the past 30 days, while also adding some color to our blog. So, hopefully I will find some other fun ways to keep our blog up to date. I'll be working on my creative writing classes over the next few months and this blog might be a way to work on my assignments while blogging so it doesn't FEEL like schoolwork. Christmas season is quickly approaching as well, so you know there will be a lot of photos posted regardless.

Oh, so 3 good things that have happened in the past 30 days?

1 - I joined a gym and have started doing yoga again. I walk out of my classes feeling absolutely revived and it is helping a lot with my neck pain and arm/hand numbness on my left side.

2 - On a more personal note, I reconnected with my Heavenly Father through personal prayer. I always pray with the kids at mealtime and bedtime, but I cannot remember how long it has been since I said a personal prayer. Recently, I found a quiet moment at the end of a very difficult day and I poured my heart out. It's amazing how rejuvenating a good pouring out of the heart can be and how it puts everything into perspective. I started out with this "poor me" attitude and ended with an overwhelming feeling of being absolutely blessed beyond my wildest dreams.

3 - I got to go to New York with my family and spend an entire 4 day weekend with my husband for the first time in months!

I look forward to the next 30 days of this coming up holiday season! I'll keep you posted :)

Day 29: Something I could never get tired of doing...

(These photos are all of me holding Beckham over the past FOUR years... Time really flies on by.)

















Being a mom...

















Holding my babies.

Okay, so my eyes just welled up with tears as I typed that. I'm such a sappy mommy. But that is the one thing that I could do forever and ever. And they just keep growing up. I want to freeze time every time they are in my arms. I love it when Ava falls asleep in my arms and nuzzles up next to me looking so peaceful and happy. I love it when Beckham actually holds still long enough to cuddle with me, even if only for a moment (which is about how long he can hold still for!), before he runs off to save the world fighting "the bad guys."

Every single night, no matter how exhausted I am, I venture into their bedrooms as they sleep and I kiss them on the forehead and stroke their hair and try to take in every aspect of that particular moment because I know that they will be another day older the next time I see them. One day they will be too big for me to hold. I dread that day. I just want to hold them in my arms always.

Day 28: Favorite Movie?

The Nightmare Before Christmas. Favorite Halloween/Christmas movie.

We love movies... One of our most common date night activities is watching movies on our big screen tv (especially since it's something we can do when we can't find a babysitter or are just flat-out exhausted and want to lounge in our pj's on a Saturday night). But, I cannot for the life of me name my #1 Favorite Movie of All Time. It depends so much on what mood I'm in and what I'm basing my critique on. I can tell you what my favorite t-shirt is, or my favorite ice cream, or even my favorite memory. But, with movies, there will have to be THE LIST.

Here are some of my other favorite movies that I can think of right at this moment:

The Godfather (pt. I and II)
Office Space
Rushmore
The Royal Tenenbaums
Australia
Pride and Prejudice
Bridget Jones' Diary
Zoolander
The Jerk
What About Bob?
Love, Actually
He Love Mes, He Loves Me Not
Amelie

I could go downstairs and look at all of our movies and name a dozen more "favorites," but I'm strapped for time and just realized that I only have an hour left to hurry and exercise, shower, get Ava up from her nap, and pick up Beckham from Joy School! My, how the time flies when you finally get a break! I'm sorely disappointed in my list, by the way. I know I must be leaving out so many great movies that I love, but just can't think of all of them at the moment. So, there's my mediocre list. Adios!