For the first time, ever...

Warning- I'm going to admit to something...and then I intend to play the "you can't judge me" card.

Are you ready?

Okay, here it is...

Rachel played in the snow today...for the first time EVER.
She's three. We live in Iowa. How could this have happened?

The lawyer-that-I-should-be now presents my case...
Yes, we live in Iowa. Yes, it snows here. Yes, children play in the snow. Yes, it is good for children to get outside and get fresh air, even in the winter.

But,

Before you reach for the "horrible mother who lets her children watch too much TV when they should be outside" sign let me just clear my name. Rachel was born in January. So, naturally, being the good mother that I am, I didn't allow her to make snow angels or hurl snowballs during her first winter of existence.

Next, came her second winter. The winter of 2011-12 wasn't exactly what one might call, um, snowy. If I remember correctly it only really snowed once or twice and both times the snow was accompanied by negative wind chills and blizzard-like conditions so that pretty much ruled out skiing lessons (Who am I kidding? Just about anything would rule out me giving anyone a skiing lesson, but moving on...).

So, here we are with the winter of 2012-13 and it finally snowed today for only the second time this season. Granted, it is pretty stinking cold and the winds have really picked up but I figured now would be as good a time as any to bundle up my little girl and send her out into the white world of a Midwest winter.

And, she loved it.

Jake went outside with Rachel while I stayed in the house with Ryan. And as I watched the two of them chase a squirrel up a snow-covered tree I felt my heart jump.

How is it that I have been blessed with so much? Two beautiful children; a loving husband who not only found his passion but also his desire to see that passion become reality; a warm home nestled on a beautiful spot in the country; family, friends, and so many loved ones....

Now that Jake's graduation date is in sight I can hear my shopping list growing longer as I anticipate the financial stability that comes with a second paycheck- a "new" car, a new laptop, perhaps some new clothes... and the list goes on.

But, really, that isn't what life is about. It is about holding your baby boy in the comfort of your warm kitchen while you watch your husband and daughter make snow angels for the first time...ever.

Rachel and her daddy in the snow.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen... this little guy was having fun bouncing.

And, we're back...

Can you even believe how long it has been since I last wrote on my blog?!

Me neither.

I miss you all; do you all miss me?!

So, here is a quick run-down of all that has been going on in our lives...


Sometime around Christmas Ryan's sleep schedule fell apart and did somersaults down the hill. He has been allowing us to average about 2-4 hours of sleep each night. I'm tired. Jake is tired. And, I have to assume that Ryan is tired as well but who knows.

Just when you think that you cannot possibly get anymore tired the universe throws a wrench in your face and proves that, yes, it is quite possible to feel even more exhausted and stressed out....Ryan had to be hospitalized with RSV just days before Rachel's third birthday. She was sick too. It was awful. I cried a lot. And drank more coffee and Diet Coke than the good Lord ever intended for one body to consume.

Rachel turned three. So that's that. She's three now. And, according to my watch she is no longer allowed to wear diapers. This time around she is kind of on board with the idea of being potty trained but she has made it known that if given the choice she would have stayed two forever because, apparently, she prefers big bulky stinky diapers to pretty princess panties. sigh......

The clouds parted for a few seconds, trumpets sounded and angels sang...Rachel actually pooped in the potty, got to play with her "poop toy" (a Jake and the Never Land Pirates toy chest) for about 5 minutes (FINALLY) and then promptly lost the privilege to play with it because she filled her pull-up while she was unwrapping the chest. Another SIGH....

Jake started his student teaching this week. I can't even believe that I'm saying that. I was sure that this day would never come. I have had visions of him being stuck in school for the rest of our lives. He is just months away from employment bliss as a high school physics teacher. Dear Lord, I hope he gets a job.

So, there you have it. We have been busy. We have been sleep deprived. We have been happy.

And as Arnold once said... "I'll be back."

What's the motto with you...

I love Christmas.

Only Fall and Football season are as close to the top of my list of favorite times of the year.

And this Christmas we had a lot to celebrate...
Ryan's first Christmas, Jake finished up his classes and will be student teaching in the Spring, Rachel is growing up and turning into a little lady.

I made cookies (even more than last year); we put up additional decorations so the house looks extra special; Jake and I went on our annual Christmas shopping spree together; Rachel asked almost every single day if it was Christmas yet.

But...

For some reason, this year my heart just wasn't into it.

Maybe it was because we missed church almost every Sunday during Advent due to sickness and schedule conflicts and didn't make it to the Christmas Eve service this year (again) because Ryan wasn't feeling well.

Or, maybe it was because we are all tired from months of sleep deprivation and the stress of raising a newborn and an extremely independent/willful two-year-old who refuses to eat or do anything that isn't her idea.

Perhaps it was because in the weeks leading up to Christmas I made a fairly sizable mistake at work- one that caused me to toss and turn and fret and stew for over two weeks before I finally picked up the phone and sobbed out an apology to one of my superiors. But not before being stabbed in the back by a co-worker/friend, which kind of ruined things at work for a few days.

I guess it could have been because I didn't send out Christmas cards or letters this year or because we missed more than one Christmas party that I was looking forward to attending.

The cherry on top of the disappointment was probably how we spent Christmas morning... while everyone else was opening presents and enjoying each other's company we were struggling with Rachel and her refusal to apologize to her daddy, which she had to do before presents could be opened (long story). So, instead of rushing downstairs to open presents in wondrous excitement, Rachel insisted on reading a book while Jake and I watched TV for almost an hour before she finally broke down and agreed to apologize. That kid...not even the prospect of opening presents is reward enough to do something that she does not want to do.

Whatever the reason(s)...I would like a do-over.
I would like another opportunity to teach my children about the real reason for Christmas.
I would like another opportunity to listen to quality Christmas music and feel the excitement of the season in my soul.
I would like another opportunity to take a family Christmas picture that doesn't involve crying or naked dolls.
I would like another opportunity to drive around and look at Christmas lights without getting lost and ending up on the other side of town.
I would like another opportunity to snuggle with my baby boy in his Christmas PJs instead of feeling anxious about guessing whether or not he will sleep for more than 60 minutes at a time.
I would like another opportunity to get my little girl to eat more than just a few bites of bread at both Christmas dinners (why, oh WHY, won't that child EAT?!).

Basically, I would just like to do this whole thing over so in the spirit of being a true Cubs fan (and, apparently a Hawks fan) I will quote my favorite motto....

There is always next year.

Happy birthday, sort of...

I'm really disappointed in myself. Here it is...over half-way through December and I haven't written one single post. Plus, my special little guy is over four months old and I have yet to add him to my blog's banner. Oops.

A few weeks ago I turned 33. It wasn't anything too exciting. You know, just another birthday. My co-workers had birthday signs hanging in my office when I arrived and I drank my birthday drink from Starbucks but the fun pretty much ended after that. Don't get me wrong, nothing terrible happened, but it was kind of a disappointing day.

When I started working at this institution I worked in a patient scheduling area and every few weeks we rotated desks so that we could each take a turn at the "busy" desk. In order to accommodate our personal items we each got a small wheeled filing cabinet that we could push around with us as we desk-hopped.

After five years of that I got a secretarial job with a desk. The desk stayed in one place but was located in a reception area. I had my own personal space but I also shared a lot of room with other items that belonged to the department.

My next job moved me from a reception area to my very own cubical in an administrative office. To have so much space was a dream come true. And it was quiet and personal and very nice.

Then, I got my current job. I took this job without seeing where I would be sitting and just about peed my pants in excitement when I saw my new office...with a door and a window! Wow.

But, never does life stand still. Never do things stay the same. Never does a progressive office keep the same number of staff members. And so, on my birthday I was given the news that I pretty much knew was coming....I am getting moved from my office to accommodate new staff members. My new area is a cubicle. It was kind of hard to hear the news, but I completely understand the situation. My supervisor hated to give me the news on my birthday, and not to anyone's surprise, the news made me cry (must I cry at everything?!). But, really I don't think it's going to be that bad (I keep trying to reassure myself of this). The new area will be fully renovated and I will still have access to windows. Plus, I will actually have more desk space than I do now, which will be very much appreciated.

But still...

It kind of stinks that I have to say good-bye to my own little personal space. I love my office. I have it decorated so nicely. And it has a door. I love my door. I use my door a lot. I'm going to miss my door.

In honor of my door I would like to make light of the situation by remembering some of my previous birthdays, which were way worse than this one.

16: When I was a kid, you could get a full-no-rules-completely-real license when one turned 16 (I'm pretty sure they come with strings attached now days, which is probably better anyway). However, when I turned 16 I didn't get my license. My twin brother got his but I did not. A few months before my birthday I drove (illegally, I might add) my boyfriend to his job and wrecked my car on the way back. I wasn't wearing a seat belt and when the car hit a culvert, went air born, and landed on it's side in the ditch I hit the passenger side window out...with my head. So, no, I was not allowed to get my license right away. I had to wait.

16 (again): Wow, in general this birthday probably takes the prize for worst birthday ever. I broke up with my boyfriend (same guy from above) about a week before my birthday, which was really stupid on my part. I wasn't allowed to go on dates that were not group dates until I turned 16 so, duh, I really didn't think that through very well. Even though we were no longer "together" (really, when you're 16 what does that mean?), we decided to go on my first "single date"  anyway and it was a disaster.

18: In high school my friends and I made a big deal out of birthdays; some of the celebrations we had were quite elaborate. But, when I turned 18 my friends decided to think outside the box and try something completely different. They decided to pretend to forget my birthday and didn't say a word to me about it all day. It was devastating. That night I called a friend of mine from another school (I'm sure I was probably crying) and she immediately invited me up to her place to watch movies and celebrate my 18th birthday together. What I didn't know was that my friends were planning to surprise me a few days later by waking me up at the crack of dawn to take me out for breakfast. Those crazy ladies.

21: No joke. I got pulled over on my 21st birthday....for what the police officer thought was drunk driving. Nope...it was just me trying to reach into my purse and I moved the steering wheel a bit too much to the side when I leaned over. At first the officer was excited to see that he had caught someone in the act but as it became obvious that I was completely sober he shrugged, told me happy birthday, and sent me on my merry way.

28: When I turned 28 Jake happened to be, "Not in a fun birthday mood," as he put it. We went out for dinner but it was snowing really hard so we had to go somewhere close, which happened to be one of the worst restaurants I have ever been to. The food was awful. The company was awful. The ride home was awful. The day in general was just not fun.

30: When I turned 30 I was 8 months pregnant and still suffering from "morning" sickness. Enough said.


So, finding out that I'm going to have to move from my office really wasn't so bad. Plus, what girl wouldn't want to be given a fairly sizable budget and told they can design their new work area using professional-looking materials? Plus, I get to choose my desk first and I pick...the corner one, next to all of the windows!

Baby eczema...

You know how sometimes you have those days when you feel like the worst mother ever?

I'm having one of those days.

Poor little Ryan; it has been one thing after another with that little guy (this must be payback for Rachel- the child who has only been to the doctor for routine exams).

A few weeks ago his little cheeks started to get red and bumps appeared, which we assumed to be your standard baby eczema. Rachel had this too and I didn't really do very much to treat it because it never got any worse, appeared only on her face, and went away after about a month.

So when those familiar red bumps began to show up on Ryan we felt bad that he would look a little red in holiday pictures and went on our merry way.

Enter the "horrible mother"

About a week ago we noticed a dry red patch on the back of Ryan's leg. Again, we felt bad for the guy and continued on with life as usual. By the next day the patch had gotten bigger. So, after his bath we put some baby oil on him, smeared a little extra lotion on his face and put the little guy to bed.

Within a few days it became obvious that we needed to be more diligent about putting lotion on him. And on Tuesday when we went to pick him up at the sitter we were shocked to discover that his face was covered in dry scaly patches. On Tuesday night we gave him a bath, scrubbed his face, slathered him up and put him to bed. We awoke on Wednesday to find that the patches had returned and within a few hours the spots were oozing something.

Every day he has been getting worse and last night it finally occurred to us, the worst parents ever, that perhaps we should take our little trooper in for a look-see with the doctor.

He is currently covered head to toe in dry itchy red patches. He is obviously terribly uncomfortable and doesn't want to be held because that just makes him feel worse. Yesterday afternoon I stripped him down to his diaper, covered him in lotion, gave him some Tylenol, and wrapped him in a soft warm blanket. He was able to sleep for about an hour, which is probably the most sleep he has gotten in a while.

Jake is taking Ryan to the doctor today and I just feel so bad because, why didn't we do something about this sooner?! What was I thinking? When we dropped him off at the sitter this morning he was able to muster a smile for us and my heart sank. He trusts us to take care of him. He even smiles for us when he is in pain, and this is the hand is gets dealt?

So, anyway, I'm praying that the doctor will take one look at him, diagnose him immediately, and send Jake on his way to the pharmacy for some ointment or medication that will have him feeling better by morning.

Hey, miracles can happen.


A quick note about some other news....
The other day I accidentally pulled Rachel off her little stool while I was trying to yank her socks off. Her bottom hit the floor and her back hit the stool and we both cried (see, worst parent ever I'm telling you). Yesterday I went to remove her socks and she said, "Mommy, this time don't pull me off the stool and hurt me."

Oh my aching heart.

All I want for Christmas is (regular) sleep...

Very seldom can someone claim to know why God does what God does.

But...

I am almost 100% positive that I know exactly why God gave us the ability to have children when we are young and carefree rather than when are much older and wiser...

Because children age us.

And make us so TIRED.

I know that I was never this tired with Rachel. Ever.

When Rachel was a baby I don't believe that I would have ever thought of, much less condoned, setting up a picnic table in front of the TV. And then to do it for more than one meal in a row?! Gasp...No!

And I feel like I would have always found the energy to put laundry away every week. I have had a basket of clean, unfolded, children's clothes setting in the dining room for so long that Jake seemed almost shocked to learn that he had to go upstairs to get an outfit for Ryan this morning.

And poor Rachel. Three times this weekend (three times, I kid you not) she asked me if I have another baby in my tummy whenever she saw me slumped over on the couch. Apparently she remembers, quite vividly, how tired I was during my pregnancy and now associates my sheer exhaustion with having a baby in my tummy. I asked her once if I look like I have a baby in my tummy and was relieved when she said no.

She must know that it has been almost a year since full nights of sleep were the norm for her mother.

Every night before I go to bed I call out to God, sometimes in tears, asking him to please let us all sleep through the night. I beg him to miraculously keep Ryan's tummy full until at least 5:30 AM...and to keep the array of noises that both children make in their sleep to a dull roar so their racket cannot be heard over the baby monitor. I would turn the thing off except that I still wouldn't be able to sleep because I would just lie awake in fear...fear of missing something important.

Sigh....

Jake and I always kid with each other that we need a vacation but this past weekend we talked about it like it wasn't a joke anymore. I read a blog not to long ago about a woman who left her newborn home with a sitter to take a much needed vacation. The poor lady was attacked by other mothers and accused of being selfish and a bad mother. To that woman I say....

Who was your travel agent and how might I get in contact with her?

Happy tuesday...

For those of you who might be keeping track, it has been a very long time since I last wrote on my blog. But, have no fear...I can pretty much sum up the last few weeks in just one word:

Busy.

I returned to work on October 30th and as I walked back into my office I was struck by a very strange thought, how is it possible that time continued to march on at my office while I was gone?

And, how do I know that this happened?

It has taken me two weeks to get us back up and running...well, to my standards anyway.

In the meantime, our lives outside of my office also continue to move forward. I have pretty much given up trying to potty train Rachel for now. I bought her a toy from her most very favorite show (Jake and the Never Land Pirates), set it at her eye level so can she see it every single day, and told her she can't play with it until she goes poopy in the potty. That was over a month ago. Don't get me wrong, she sees it every day and she can even tell me why it's there, "I have to go poopy in the potty before I can play with my toy." but she has yet to feel compelled to do the deed that she speaks of.

Ryan is growing like a little weed. I'm not kidding. That little guy may not have rolls of chub but he still packs quite a punch and tipped the scales at just around 14 pounds last week. He is even wearing his 3-6 month clothes and has started to outgrow his bouncy seat. Dear God, no! Not the bouncy seat! What on earth will we do when he cannot fit into that thing anymore?!

Jake is less than a month away from his LAST FINAL. Can you believe that? We are just a few short weeks away from ending a journey that we have been on for almost 12 years. And when he finally graduates next May I might just do something crazy...go back to school myself and start the entire process over again. I know. Duh. Anyway, he will start his student teaching in January and we are just about to pee our pants with excitement as we wait to hear where he has been placed. A few weeks ago he was pleased to hear that he was the first person in his cohort to get placed (the only person to do so in the first round) and even though I couldn't be more proud of the guy I am really anxious about how this will change our lives (not to mention our morning routine).

And because I just cannot resist posting a few pictures of our two little pains in the rear  bundles of joy.....

Happy Tuesday!