Blogging and My Life

Let's face it: I've been largely absent from the blogging world for quite some time.  (I know - you're all in rehab and going through therapy because you miss me so much; I'm sorry!) 

I'd love to be able to tell you that it's because I'm just too cool for school or that I'm working on something really, really big.  I'd love to be able to keep up with this and balance everything perfectly...

BUT the truth of the matter is this: Folks, I'm getting my ass kicked. 

Dudes, it's a struggle.  It's a beautiful, exciting, rewarding struggle, but there is no way I'd be doing anyone any good if I pretended it wasn't a battle.  When we found out we were expecting a fourth kiddo last year, I shrugged and said, "Meh... what's another babe? I'm already out-numbered!"  But now, a year after that announcement, I'm facing the reality that it isn't just the 4 kids... It's life.  It is simply life as an adult with mind-boggling mounds of responsibility that sometimes makes me feel like I'm trying to run in quicksand. 

Ya know?  It's the living-within-a-Nazi-budget thing because we're carrying two mortgages right now... it's the four-kids-who-deserve-my-best thing... the having-a-small-business-to-run-and-grow thing... the being-a-good-wife-and-household-manager thing... All of those.  And more.  Let me back up and explain a little bit - not because I want sympathy or am trying to bitch, but because maybe it'll comfort some of you to know that no, not everyone's life is smooth-as-silk all the time:

We just got full-use of our basement back.  After 20 weeks of dealing with the mold/water intrusion, we finally got it back.  We lost easily a couple thousand dollars worth of stuff to mold, not to mention the lost time, wasted opportunities, etc.  But that's better - finally!  However, we found out in August that the gentlemen who were renting our other house (which we were unable to sell in 2008 - thank you, economy) were leaving.  So we had to instantly pare down our budget and, while we've always lived well within our means, it has meant attempting to feed our family on $100 a week.  That has translated to added hours of pouring through grocery-store circulars, writing menus, compiling lists and coupons and trying to weigh cost-savings against healthy eating choices.  It literally sucks up hours of my week... However, that also means that I buy whole chickens instead of boneless-skinless breasts and nearly double my prep work for one dinner.  Lunches include apple slices that I have to peel, slice and soak in lime-juice instead of purchasing ready-made bags of them.  And that's fine!  I'm doing what I have to for us!  But that certainly doesn't leave any time for blogging... especially when that budget excludes disposable diapers and you consider the amount of laundry that goes into have 3 kids in cloth diapers full-time... And, let's be serious: we all know how I feel about laundry.

Jack, Jordan and Addie are in preschool this year so twice a week I am committed to getting them there and home.  And I have MOPS, a moms group at my church and also Jack's baseball practices and games to travel to and from, but beyond that, I have to have snacks prepared and packed, cups ready, diaper changes to consider, etc.  It's just a lot.  I'm keeping my photography business at a comfortable level, but as we head into the fall, it will pick up quite a bit (which is good! I love my craft!) and it will constitute even less free time.  Additionally, I have a few things on the horizon that are community-service related that include using my business to generate some income for some charity work.  Again, all of this is stuff that I dearly love and am happy and excited to do, but it takes time.

Oh, and we're raising four young kids.  Jack and Jordan are super active.  Addie has a speech-delay we are getting a treatment plan worked out for, and Peyton is exclusively breastfed with the appetite of a college football running back.   It is, at times, overwhelming.

Clearly this is just our normal.  It is not anything lamentable or regrettable, nor would I, for one hot second, assert that I have a difficult or bad life... Quite the opposite, in fact; I am happy and content and proud of where we are and I couldn't be more comfortable doing what we're doing with one another.

But it is because I love my life and am so happy with the decisions we've made and the paths we've walked that I find it impossible to put off any of my responsibilities in order to spend more time blogging.  Don't get me wrong - although I am content and blissful, I do spend some time every day struggling with frustration, stress, fear, uncertainty, doubt and anger.  (It would be entirely and freakishly unnatural if I did.)  And that fact is what this blog post is really about for me, and hopefully for you as well: it is for me to tell you that it's okay to feel the full spectrum of emotions - good as well as bad.  I just set about each day with the hope that if this is my last day on Earth, I may look back on it with no regrets.  That I might stand before the Lord proud of myself as a wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend and child of the God... that I might only need to pray for thanksgiving and ask only for the strength to live the next day as the one before it, should I be given the gift of tomorrow.  More often than not, there is at least one role in which I do not perform the way I'd have wanted to.  More often than not, I find myself praying also for forgiveness for my shortcomings in at least one area of my life and begging for just one more chance to do better. 

Either way, the result is always me waking up resolved to glorify God and serve my family, friends and brothers and sisters to the best of my mortal ability.  Rarely does that include blogging, but as it does mean I need some time to myself - to vent, to connect, to reach out, I'm not giving up on blogging because I do love it so much.  It's just that I'm asking your forgiveness for not having a post up every couple of days so that I can focus on being the person I know I am and making myself better each day.  I guess it also means I'm asking for your support and maybe a prayer or two to help me in that journey.

Thanks for reading and for sticking with us through everything!  I promise I'll be my witty, funny self next time!

Baby Grins and Momma's Tears

Peyton just rewarded me with a giant-cheeked, crescent-eyed toothless grin. 

I thought my heart would burst.  So I bawled my eyes out instead, soaking her chubby cheeks as I kissed her over and over again.

How in the world is it possible to love so much?

And how in the world is is possible that I will wake up tomorrow and find my love for my family even stronger? 

I am so blessed.

They Grow So Fast

I can't believe Squirt is 16 days old.  I can't believe that's 2 weeks.  I can't believe I only have 50 more weeks with her as a "baby".  I can't tear myself away from her - I hold her when I don't have to and I stare at her when I should be watching a movie.  I ignore my blog and my laundry so I can try to stuff as much of this into my memory as possible.

It's like I'm re-living each older kiddo's infancy through her... I look down at her nursing and see Jack and Addie.  When she smiles, I see Jordan.  (And yes, I'm considering it a smile - even if it's caused by gas, it's still a smile.)  When Jack was 16 days old, I had no idea what I was doing.  Nursing was challenging and I didn't know how to burp him properly and we were facing a deployment and each day, though wonderful, was also riddled with mini-crises and a sprinkling of panic.  With the twins, at this point, Jordan had only been home from the NICU for a short while and we were just realizing that she had problems with reflux.  I spent far less time than I wanted to snuggling each girl and relishing her presence because I was juggling a much younger, much less independent Jack plus the demands of caring for two newborns and coping with Justin's high-demand job.  I felt guilty when I lingered too long with one twin or the other and I rarely wore them because wearing two was such a task and I felt like I was robbing one of them of time if I wore her sister.  From the outset with them, they were more content to snuggle with one another than with me and in general, I bonded with them in brief spurts over a longer period of time and as a result, much of their early days is a complete blur.

But Peyton?  Peyton is all of them.  She is at once just like Jack and like her sisters.  I am an experienced mom who fluently speaks "crying" and interprets her needs with ease and confidence.  I can sling her in as much time as I can ask, "can you pick her up?" and I can cook a 3-course meal 1-handed while singing "Old MacDonald" to the older kids and playing a game of kick-and-catch with our mini soccer ball.  I can function on 2.5 hours of sleep a night for a week, as long as I get a few 4-hour chunks every now and then.  I am busy but not overwhelmed (thanks, truthfully, in large part to amazing friends who have helped with meals... I can't take ALL the credit!) and I realize more than with the other 3 kids that these days are fleeting.  Laundry will always pile up, but she won't always fit in Justin's hand like a handful of candy.  The counters will always have mysterious sticky stuff on them, but she won't always murmur contentedly at my breast when she's full of milk.  I can always shower and do my hair, but she won't always smell that that ubiquitous combination of powder, rubbing alcohol and love. 

I love that I can lift her to my face and put a kiss on her rosebud lips and watch her purse them and then realize it's me and turn her cheek into my hand with her mouth open ready to nurse.  I love that we can offer her a finger and she grasps it automatically and unquestioningly the way we love her automatically and unquestioningly.  I love that her eyes study us with the innocent fascination of an infant, but there is also a sense of familiarity in her gaze as if she's know us for far longer than 16 days.  I love that she's here and I cannot fathom how I'll get through the bittersweet thrill of each milestone over the next 50 weeks.  (And, to be sure, every year after that as well...)  I love that she makes me love my other 3 even more deeply.  And I love that I feel like God placed her within me because He knew that Peyton would bring me closer to Him and intensify my love for our family as well as for Him and make me a better mother, daughter, sister, wife and friend. 

I love.

And while she will grow quickly, I hope that I do too.  I hope I don't miss anything.  I hope I can remember to remember.

Because they grow so fast...

Black and White Wednesday hosted by Lisa!

More Photos!

These are all straight from the camera... I haven't (okay, let's be serious... I probably won't have oodles of free time right now) had a chance to edit anything, so let's not critique any photographic skill (or lack there-of) hm?  Thanks!  Enjoy!

Big Sister Addie loves her...

St. Patty's Day duck feeding... also, the day I realized my "baby" girls are so big... Sigh.

In which I marvel at the perfection of a 3 day old baby...

16 Days Away

My due date.

It's 16 days away.

Doubt I'll go that far, but still... 16 days.  Wow.  Sounds like an eternity to me when you figure that also equals 16 sleepless nights of contractions.

But when I look at my older three and realize I've only got 16 days of "exclusive" snuggling with them, it seems like an absurdly scant amount of time.

And when I think that I have only 16 days of pregnancy left in my whole life... when my whole life HAS been reproduction for the last 5 years, it seems like a blink.  More bittersweet...ness.

I want to see my baby girl.  I want to feel her weight on my chest (instead of my crotch, thanks) and inhale her sweet smell and learn about who she is (you know, besides someone who gets massively irritated by hiccups and curls up against her daddy's hand when she feels him) and introduce her to three very excited siblings.  I want to go into labor and enjoy the feeling of my body doing it's amazing job of bringing a life into this world.  I want to sigh that satisfied, contented sigh of peace and thanksgiving when I hear her cry and know that I have done what nature set me out to do 40 weeks ago.

But I'm going to miss it.

I'm going to miss feeling the beautiful roundness of my belly.  I'm going to miss her kicks and wiggles and knowing that she's mine to enjoy and that I'm keeping her safe and secure and she wants for nothing right now.  I can't let her down or not fulfill her needs right now.

At 36 weeks, my sonogram showed that she was 6lbs 7oz.  Last week, at 37 weeks, I was 70%, 3 and -2.  I have another appointment on Thursday... We'll see how that one goes... I've had so many contractions that I can't imagine I'll have to wait 16 days to say, "Honey, it's time."

This pregnancy has been rough in terms of it running concurrent with the raising of 3 kids 3 and under, building a house, and being my 4th baby in as many years.  But it's also been a beautiful experience - one for which many women pray and for which I am extraordinarily grateful... It has felt right from the beginning and it has given me a glorious, comfortable "full" feeling in my heart... one that assures me that we are complete with this baby and that I can tell my body "thank you" and release it from its duty of bearing children - proud and satisfied that each one of my "bumps" has yielded a perfect pregnancy.

So, for now, I wait.  I lay at night with my hands resting atop my belly or against Justin's back with our baby nestled between us, snug and secure, anxious, but at peace.  I hold my big kiddos on my lap and listen to them giggle when New Baby greets them with kicks and punches.  And I trust that things will happen on their own time since, from the outset of this, none of it has been in my control anyway.

My Baby Turns 4

My February was a total and complete fail in terms of keeping up with blogging.  I had to move our family, get ready for Jack's birthday, and get ready for a new baby PLUS take care of all of us and our assorted illnesses - ranging from strep to pink eye to colds and sinus infections.  Anyway, the bright spot to all of that was, in fact, Jack's birthday.

See, I'm not a girly-girl in most regards, but when it comes to my babies' birthdays I'm a total sap.

Like, for weeks ahead of time, the mention of their impending age makes me weepy.  I can't handle looking at baby photos and I put a disgusting amount of time into planning and executing their cakes and gifts and, for Jack, his party.  This year he was super excited to have all his friends come see his "big gray house" so I acquiesced to having his party in our home a scant week and a half after we moved.  It motivated me to get the place in order and put a massive crunch on my sanity, but it turned out really well and we had a great time with his buddies and their families!

Here are some photos (they're not super artistic and I haven't edited them at all, so don't call the photog police on me here, folks!):

I still can't get over that he's 4.  Sometimes I think, "He's ONLY 4???? How is that possible?" and other times I think, "How did he go from being a newborn to a 4 year old in like, a week?"  I mean, how does he say things like, "I'm a firefighter who uses the ladder.  You can tell by my designation." and then the next second curl up in my lap (what's left of it) and fall asleep cradled in my arms because he doesn't feel good?  How does my heart swell with pride at the bright little kid that's developing in front of me and ache with loss of the "baby" that turned my world upside down and changed the entire trajectory of my life? How is each birthday such a dichotomy of triumph and sadness?  Am I the only one who feels such mixed emotions on kiddos' birthdays?  Sigh. 

Anyway, more to come... I'm trying to get caught up before this baby (and no, I'm not withholding anything; she still doesn't have a name) arrives!