repeat

I feel like my life is this:
have a party
spend a day recovering from preparing for the party
the house is crazy messy from not keeping up with it for one day
spend a day getting it cleaned for another party
repeat

*parties over here include watching walking dead with friends, cooking dinner for friends, and then full blow birthday parties;-)  No keg stands are involved.

Nudest hippy with spurts of june cleaver every other day

-My boys bleed, scrape, fall, cry AT LEAST twice each...every single day.  Is this normal?  Are they especially clumsy or something?  I'm a really compassionate person but it has gotten to the point where I am so immune to their cries and so calm in the presence of blood (this is coming from someone who used to faint when we talked about blood in science class).  Last Saturday Barclay split his head open and I scooped him up, went back to the living room and promptly tried to finish up a Downton Abbey episode, all while semi comforting him.  I mean REALLY, this kid cries all the time.  It was like a minute before the dripping blood on my arm got my attention.  Poor kid had to get his head glued up.  Even yesterday when I was signing them up for childcare at the gym, Barclay happened to climb something and slip and bite through his tongue.  I am a compassionate person I promise but I barely blink anymore at the constant accidents.


-I seriously want to know if I am going finally be pregnant this summer.  The style coming out in regular clothes is SUPER cute and I want to buy some new clothes if I am not going to be sporting a bump.  Last summer I was 100% certain I would be pregnant and really felt I missed out on some cute stuff because I was just sure I wouldn't be able to wear it.  A whole season down the drain.  I will say pretty much every time the style of normal clothes is cute and cut showing off the waist, I get pregnant...also the adorable maternity style seems to be taking a turn for "businessy" which means the odds are in my favor;-)  I'm never in the style that is cute if that makes sense.

-I hate feeding my children.  HATE it.  One of the mental pictures I had in my head growing up was me in the kitchen cooking up healthy yummy food for my family with children pleasantly playing underfoot.
REALITY...Barclay has allergies that limit our family meals and he hate almost everything he's not allergic to.  Also Noah is picky too.  It all goes down like this 90% of the time:
I'm in an already messy kitchen racking my brain of what to possibly feed them again.  Pinterest fails me every time because the delicious allergy free foods have weird textures that Barclay wont touch.  So I am stepping on cheerios from breakfast with my bare feet, and possibly (LIKELY) popcorn from the boys play session with trucks.  Both kids are usually crying from lack of my undivided attention (poor dears!) and I look a hot mess.
Today at lunch after heating up meatballs (a meal I was hoping to add to our short list) I noticed they had gluten in them and were also spicy.  So I proceeded to feed hotdogs and bread.  Since Barclay couldn't have bread and butter I gave him butter...on a fork because I felt so sorry for him.


-I have come to realize that staying busy with my photography is key in keeping me out of the quick pit of depression.  I feel guilty about it (I mean I am basically saying blissful domestic life doesn't fulfill me).  I just find if I don't have stuff to do I usually do nothing.  But when I do have stuff to do, I keep up better with stuff.


-God is working big time on my heart.  Every day (cheesy as it sounds), my heart is softening and my eyes are being opened to the "big picture".

-The thing in life I am most terrified of at this point in time, is that I will not be able to have another child.

-I daily swing back and forth from being a super put together, 5th avenue-esque mom with beautiful clothes, adorable hair, made up face AND a nudest hippy.

-I cannot shake this feeling.  The feeling of playing house.  I mean, is this all a dream?  Am I really a mom (and not even a new mom at that?).  Am I really at this point in my life where I thought I might have it a little more together than I do.  I genuinely cannot believe that I am nearing 30 and am this unprepared and fly by the seat of my pants (in a bad way).

-Admission.  In the rare instances where life is very june cleaver-ish I make sure I document them with instagram.  This include random beverages I am drinking (not including out of the carton oj), amazing angles of me from my iphone that don't include anything below my neck, bragging pictures of clean rooms, amazing meals I cook (once every two weeks)...

ps-the hotdogs are organic

My funny valentine

Dearest little one,

It's been 2 years since I first laid eyes on you.  We had a scary start.  There wasn't immediate bonding and snuggling...I was just glad that you were alive.

Around 2 am that next morning I woke up from my drugged state and asked the nurses to bring you to me.  In those wee morning hours I fell so deeply in love with you.  It was just you and me and I couldn't believe how my heart grew.

My number one fear of being a mother of two was loving you.  I just didn't know how it could happen.  It just did.

You have been such a pleasure to nurture.  You make it easy.  I made a decision that I would not listen to other people this go around and that I would enjoy nurturing you the way that came naturally.  I have hundreds of memories stored up of blissful moments of the sun coming through my shades and just you and me.  Nursing, sighing, snuggling and enjoying every single moment.
There are still moments today, in your busy-two-year-old ways that I instantly store in my heart because you are so precious and moments with you are so precious.
You have become quite the chatter box and have the sweetest little voice.  It blows my mind that now you can say sentences of 5+ words.  You were so chill as a baby that I thought that was how you would be.  Not at all!  You are fiery and you do not let your big brother bully you.  You sing and dance and play right along with him.

To be honest the past month or two has been rough.  You have hit a patch of terrible twos that has brought me to my knees.  Sometimes during the day I just feel like laying down and sleeping for a week.  BUT you still find moments to snuggle with me, sing to me, play sweetly with your brother and I see your sweet spirit.

You are beautiful.  Absolutely drop dead, stop in your tracks beautiful.  You have the most beautiful eye lashes I've ever seen and the rosiest rosebud lips.  You flirt a lot and slowly bat your lashes while smiling and holding your hands together.

Nothing fills my heart like watching you and Barclay growing up together.



Sullivan you fill my heart with joy!
I can't wait to see you grow another year.

I love you my sweet little Valentine,
Mama

why the absence?

I've noticed my blog posts have gone from nearly every day to once a month in the past year.  I've asked myself why and here is what I've come up with:

1-Time!  To sit down and formulate thoughts and have somewhat readable grammar is quite a feat most days.

2-I feel pressure.  I feel pressure to put up pictures with my posts because I tend to write wordy posts and I feel like no one reads them.  Or pressure to write in the "cool-hipster-blog-mom" tone.

3-I barely get comments anymore which makes me feel like seriously almost no one is reading anymore...they've given up too.

4-(and most prominent in my mind)...
I feel like in the past I've been real and people have liked that.  I've been real about the exhaustion of motherhood, about past struggles or hurts...
I feel I'm going through a stage in my life where real is not just relatable...It is plain ugly.  Instead of writing things like: "My child wouldn't stop screaming, and I am a tired mess.", I want to write stuff like, "Does God really love me?", "Will I ever be able to have another baby?  Will I ever be content?  "Did I cause God to hate me?, "I think about possibly being pregnant 70% of my day", "I think about how fat I am the every second of the day."  I hate how I look, my husband hates how I look.", "Have I wasted my childrens' last year with my constant roller coaster of trying to have another baby?" "The pure, black, yucky jealousy that seems to be pouring out of my heart at every log onto facebook or text from a pregnant friend.

I'm dealing with some ugly stuff.  Stuff almost too ugly to write out.

And that's why.

To my spunky boy on his 4th birthday

Oh my baby!  

I cannot believe you are 4 years old today!  I feel like you’ve been with us forever and yet 4 seems so grown up to me.
 
The second they placed you in my arms, I’ve never felt such an instant love.  Ever since that moment you have proved over and over again that my heart could practically double in size every day.
It’s such an honor to be your mommy.  I watch you from afar and my heart just swells with gratitude that I get to spend every day with you.  You make life so wonderful and rich.
 
This past year I’ve watched you transform into a much calmer child.  Right after your 3rd birthday we discovered your severe allergy to gluten and you have been so much happier and calmer than before.  You still are extremely strong willed and that proves to be an everyday challenge.  I know that strong will, if pointed in the right direction will serve you well in the future.  Your daddy calls it “leadership qualities”.    

I adore your imagination.  I’ve been around a lot of kids your age and you, by far, have the best imagination.  Every morning I wake up and hold my breath as I await you to declare what you will be that day (a superhero, a fixer man, a cat, a baby, a daddy...)  One of my favorite things is to sit back and just watch you as you weave an imaginary world around you.  You never need toys to have a wonderful time.  You find the strangest things on the ground and turn them into all kinds of things.  Scraps of wood quickly become tools, fingernail clippers become your pocket knife, ect.  

You are the friendliest child.  No matter where we go you are making friends and having deep conversations.  Your childlike honesty is so refreshing and sometimes embarrassing:-)  The other day at the zoo you saw a very old man and said, “Wow!  You must be a cowboy!  Well actually you are much too old to be a cowboy.”
I love that you genuinely care and love everyone.  You will approach the grungiest of men with the sweetest of conversations.  You spread such joy everywhere you go.  I’m so proud of you.

You are caring and compassionate.  Any time anyone is sad you immediate are by their side trying to make it better.  Countless times this past year you have curled up next to me in sad moments and just rubbed my arm sweetly saying, “It’s going to be ok, mama.  I love you, mama”.  
Countless times I wake up to your sweet little hot hands holding my face and saying things like, “good morning beautiful mama!”.

You are a mess.  All boy.  Completely mischievous and rough and tumble.  I love it.  I cried for days when I found out you were a boy.  I never thought I could connect with a boy.  I love it.  I love how dirty you get every day, how when you want to show love to your brother that you tackle him giggling the whole time.    

Speaking of your brother, watching ya’ll play and talk is the best thing ever.  Yes, you beat eachother up nearly every hour but equally you hold his hand, speak sweetly to him and are constantly in tune to his needs.  You are the best big brother.

You are spunky.  You have the cutest little wayward smile that is just the epitome of a boyish grin.  You’re going to be a heartbreaker.

This past year your heart has softened and opened up to things of the Lord.  Countless times throughout the day I hear you singing sweetly songs about Jesus.  

It’s a bittersweet thing watching you grow and become more independent.  You can now dress yourself completely.  I know one day you will leave and become a man with a life of his own.  I pray so much that above all else that you are confident in the love of your parents and most of all the unconditional love of your heavenly father.

I feel like I have captured nearly every moment of your life and held it in my heart.  I can completely remember sitting for hours upon hours holding your cooing, sighing body on my chest.  Watching every little detail of your face, toes, fingers dreaming of what you would one day be.  I remember giggling with you in the grass and picking out animals out of the clouds, and having tea together when Sullivan is napping.  There are thousands of crystal clear memories in my heart that I will treasure forever.  And there is room for years and years more of them.

Now when I hold you, your feet dangle past my knees. I still love to hold you tight and sway as I sing "our song".

I am so far from a perfect mother but you love me.  We are learning this together.  
Barclay Thomas, God is using you to refine me.  Everyday I learn so much about how God loves me, because of how I love you no matter what you do.  
Thanking God for another year of being your mother.  

I love you just the way you are.

Love your Mama