Fearless

Last month, I had a REALLY bad week. It's really hard for me to even post that on here because my "bad" doesn't look near as bad as another person's "bad," but it was still hard. Big Daddy was out of town for the week. I woke up Monday with a migraine. I was bummed because my mom was coming over to spend the day. Instead of hanging out and decorating, I was sleeping it off. However, I was thankful that my mom was here to hang with Cohen while I slept. That night I went to bed with a "migraine hangover" but was sure I would be fine. Uh...no. I woke up in the middle of the night and was SICK! I finally had to call my mom and ask if she could come get the kids ready and take them to school. I then proceeded to puke for days. I had to stay with my parents because I could not get out of bed!

**My mother is a saint. On the two days that Cohen and Levi had school she would get all FOUR kids ready, take them ALL into Drew's school to drop him off. She would put three back in the car and make the 20 minute drive to drop Claire off then back to Springfield to take the little boys to school!

So, during this time I was also having an emotional melt down. My faith was shaky at best. I couldn't believe how weak I felt physically and mentally. As I lay there I beat myself up. How on earth can I feel so bad when one of my best friends in the world is fighting for her life with such strength and courage?? Why can't I just suck it up? I became almost disabled by fear. I feared the outcome of Steph's fight with cancer. I feared the sickness that was raging in my body. I hated the fact that I added more to my mom's plate. (Make no mistake, my mom is happy to help and was thrilled to have so much time with my kids. She LOVED every second of it, so I'm not sure why I was worried about that!) I missed my husband and was terrified that he would get stuck in New York due to the pending snow storm projected to hit the east coast.

The week went on and don't you know it...God prevailed. I still felt pretty bad but Brian was on one of the VERY FEW flights that got out of NYC before the snow storm hit. He made it home and the weekend came. I went to the doctor on Monday (Yes, I waited until Monday because I seriously could not get out of bed!) and found that I had an ear infection that was causing all kinds of problems. My doctor actually asked if she could look at my ear again because she had never seen anything like it! (P.S. my ear NEVER hurt!) On Tuesday we went to Lifeway and I found a great book that I am still trying to finish. Fearless but Max Lucado. It was as if the book jumped off the shelf into my arms. Hmmm, I wonder how that happened?? I am convinced that God didn't hear my prayers. He heard my mom's prayers. I know she was praying for me. I know she was praying that I could find peace. And I did.

I know God wants me to be a lot of things, but afraid is not one of them. By being full of fear, I am being disobedient to Him. By focusing on the things that terrify me, I am ignoring the things that should be filling my soul with joy. I have done A LOT of praying and soul searching. I have come to some conclusions and I will share them when the time is right. As hard as life has been in the past few years...it's getting harder. I don't know exactly what the future holds but I DO know one thing. I know that I will not survive with the attitude I had last month. Worrying, feeling guilty and being afraid is not going to make Steph's cancer go away. If it could, I'm pretty sure my dad and I could have cured her about a year ago. I don't have all the answers, and never will, but I trust in God's plan. I am thankful for His promise to me. I am also thankful for His decision to put me in this amazing family. Because of these things, I am determined to be fearless.

Work At Home Mom

Becoming a mom changes everything. EVERYTHING. When you welcome a little one into your world, you and your needs automatically take a backseat. It becomes impossible to make a decision based on ONLY what you want. You always stop to consider how or if your decision is going to affect your offspring. I once read something that said, becoming a mother is learning to live with your heart walking around outside of your body.

I always knew I wanted to be a stay at home mom. Of course for years, I fought it. I was in college, getting a degree and I was determined to have a career. Then the discussions started happening between me and Big Daddy. The time was drawing near. It was almost time to start trying for a baby. My whole outlook changed. Logistics played a huge part. I was going to school to become an educator of the deaf and hard of hearing. When I really stopped to think about it...it just didn't add up. How on earth could I justify working outside the home when I would be spending the majority of my income on childcare. I would be making a VERY small amount of money and in return....someone else would raise my children. That was a deal I was not willing to take.

So it was decided. I would stay at home. I had it all worked out in my head. I would be gently awakened each morning as the sun streamed in and kissed my cheeks. I would tip toe in and check on my little cherub as she was still peacefully sleeping in her perfect crib in her perfect room. I would shower and get myself ready for the day then get her up to nurse her. I would dress her in one of her beautiful outfits and we would head into town for lunch or maybe some shopping. I would get home in time to have dinner on the table. We would have dinner and then play with our little sweet and she would be completely engaged in whatever educational game or toy we were using. Bath time would be next followed by a story and then bed. We would lay her in her crib and she would slowly drift into dreamland.

HA!

Here is how it really went. After being up every two hours ALL night long, I would stagger to her room because she was screaming bloody murder. I would be welcomed by a smell that could only mean that the diaper she was wearing had not done its job. I would give HER a bath and forgo my own....again. I would feed her a bottle because after all it had been 2 hours since her last bottle. (I gave up the dream of nursing about 12 hours into the whole deal...enter the first complication of insulin problems) She was always dressed cute...I will give myself that. The kid had more clothes than I care to admit. I would try to make it through the day without crying (which rarely happened...thank you post-partum depression.) and when Big Daddy finally got home after what seemed like years....we would order pizza, eat a sandwich or a bowl of cereal. Big Daddy would play with her for a bit and then one of us would rock her to sleep. After laying her in her crib (if she didn't wake up right away which meant you had to start all over again.) you had to creep EVER so quietly out of the room taking extra care not to step on the squeaky part of the floor. However, the squeak was located right in front of her bedroom door...so it was pretty much impossible to avoid. If her little head popped up...you failed and had to start all over. The first seven months of Claire's life were a blur. I wish I could go back and do them again....I really do. I have learned so much since then.

We finally got into a better routine. My lifeline was my job at the bookstore. It helped me to get out of the house and interact with others. I worked with a great group of ladies and had so much fun. The best part was our little nursery we had set up in my mom's office. Claire came with me and everyone adored her. I did the same thing when Cohen was born. I remember strapping him to my chest and working away! I sure do miss that place!

I still fought the stay at home mom thing. I felt repressed. I felt the life being sucked out of me. I felt like there was so much more out there than strained peas, baby Einstein and a daily incident with poop. It wasn't until I had Cohen that I really started to get it. There IS more out there....but maybe, just maybe, I don't really want any part of it! I began to see my job in the home as exactly that. A JOB. I imagined getting a performance review from my boss. I can say without a doubt, I would have been fired. I thought about my jobs that I had in the past. I gave nothing but 100% to my past employers. Why is it okay that I was giving my family less than that? It wasn't. When I was finally honest with myself, I knew it was time for a change. I began a Bible study that changed my marriage. I started blogging which has been the best thing I have ever started and one of the only things I didn't quit 10 days into. I began to focus on the positive. Out with the bad...in with the good.

You see, I spent so much time focusing on what I WASN'T getting to do that I completely lost sight of the things I DO get to do. I got to be there. I have yet to miss a first. I was there for her first smile and his first giggle. I watched them and cheered when they rolled over for the first time. I heard the first words they uttered and beamed with pride as they pulled up to our ottoman in the living room. I watched nervously as they toddled along taking their first steps. And this morning, I sit here and continue to count my blessings for new reasons. I get to listen to their conversations when they don't know I'm listening. I get to hear them say things like, "Good try" and "Good game" when playing games together and get to take credit for their good sportsmanship. I am spending a lazy spring break with my kids! We don't have to be anywhere! We have been getting up and being totally lazy. I get to sit and drink coffee while blogging and watching the kids play. LOVE IT. I've said it before and I'll say it again....THANK YOU Big Daddy for working so hard so I can stay....um....WORK at home!!!

Rotten Egg

My kids have been complaining a lot lately. A LOT. About pretty much EVERY little thing. For some reason they think I should carry them upstairs. Uh...no. So in order to make them more excited about getting up the stairs to bed, I have adopted the "LAST ONE UP IS A ROTTEN EGG!!" approach. And it is working. I am perfectly content with my rotten egg status. Why? Because there is nothing cuter than Cohen turning around, pointing his little finger at me and yelling, "WOTTEN EGG!" I am already sad for the day that he will learn to say his R's wight.

Everybody Cut Footloose

I was in preschool so my brother, Jarad, was about 2. Footloose was the hit movie. We had seen it a time or two and loved it. Of course we didn't really "get" it, but it was fun to watch them dance. One of Jarad's favorite parts was when Kevin Bacon was throwing a fit in an abandoned warehouse. He's mad about something so he does what any normal teenager in the early 1980's would do...he dances around and throws bottles while doing his high bar routine. You know...the usual. Jarad was so inspired by this scene that he decided to reenact part of it in our long driveway. He found some empty bottles and went to town. After breaking several, he realized that mom and dad may not be so happy about all of the glass in the driveway, so he swept it all into the grass.

Fast forward to later that day. We had set out with our Big Wheels so we could cruise down our long driveway that was PERFECT for picking up just the right amount of speed. We would get about 3/4 of the way down and turn into the grass sliding our feet to stop. I was making my first pass and I was FLYING! I got to the "turnoff" and headed left. And then it happened. I put my BARE feet in the grass to slide to a stop. I felt something sharp graze my cute little baby toe. As I rolled to a stop I saw A LOT of blood and my sweet little baby toe hanging on for dear life.

Of course, Jarad panicked and ran...away. NOT to the house to get mom and inform her that I may or may not be bleeding to death. NOT to get me a band-aid or a tourniquet. Nope, he ran and hid. Left me there to fend for myself. I crawled up the driveway leaving a trail of blood in my wake. Is it strange that I remember very distinctly (at the age of 4) which towel my mom wrapped my foot in??? It was one that had been hand embroidered with a potato on it and possibly the day of the week. I don't remember which day, but that's neither here nor there. I remember the car ride to the hospital and making some lame joke about how I wish it would have been the stupid dog across the street that had been hurt instead of my sweet little baby toe. (That dog had it comin' I promise. He ate my Slip N Slide...jerk.) I remember getting a shot in my sweet little baby toe and I remember what the stitches looked like. What I don't remember is what ever happened to my brother! I truly do not remember him being there. Maybe we just left HIM home alone to fend for HIMSELF...but I doubt it. My mom was good like that.

Still to this day, my sweet little baby toe tingles when I hear that song. I once told my sad story to my friend Kari at the bank. We decided that maybe "Toeloose" would be a more appropriate title.

Over the Mississippi and Through St. Louis....

to grandmother's house we go! Our big boys (Big Daddy, Uncle and Papa) headed west to hunt wild hog so we went east to visit my Grammy and Papa Tom! Here is our trip in pictures!

Poor Nanny was shoved in the back with all the littles. I'm sure if you asked her, she would tell you that she enjoyed every second...except maybe the stop at Steak & Shake on the way home. That was a little much thanks to Claire's stinky feet and stinkier attitude.

Little Coco watching a movie.

Livi Loo playing with her baby. Just so you know, this child RAN the whole way. All six hours her little feet NEVER stopped!!

Cohen...just the opposite.

Wide awake.....

not so much.

We got to Grammy's and played for a bit. Mom decided that she would stay with Grammy and the rest of us would stay at a hotel (there was just too many of us!). Friday night she kept Claire with her and Saturday night she kept Cohen so that I only had one kiddo to wrangle! Friday night when she took us back to the hotel, Claire wanted to stay behind with Grammy. When mom returned, she found the girls playing with the "city" they had built in the office!

Cohen, Papa Tom and Tasha (Grammy's little dog)

Haircuts ALL AROUND!

We stopped by the nursing home to visit MY Great-Grandma. (My Papa Melvin's mom)

We met up with Aunt Marylin and Uncle Jerry (Papa Melvin's sister and her husband)

I see orderly in his future.

Alivia with her momma and her Great-great-Grandma!

Grammy with Cohen, Alivia, Claire and Claire's attitude.

Cohen and his beautiful Great-Grammy.

3 Generations!

**Not pictured...our visit with my namesake Chris, her husband Doug and her girls Grace and Hope! We left the camera at Grammy's shop!**

Thank you Grammy for having us! It was such a special weekend!

Cleaning Up the Kitchen

We have all heard the phrase, "Desperate times call for desperate measures." If you read my other blog, you know that we have been teetering on the edge of desperate and faithful. We are faithful and serve a God who is so amazing. We trust in His plan. But we have learned during this journey that everyone has a story. People want to share their stories and we want to hear them. They give us hope. Everyone seems to have a cure. It's hard to know what to act on for fear that it may turn out to be the wrong choice in the end. Steph has spent hours upon hours in prayer regarding her treatment. She has researched nutrition and the effects it has on cancer. God has led her to put serious thought into what she puts into her body. In turn it has made me think...a dangerous pastime I know. I have the luxury of considering my nutrition in order to enhance my life. My friend HAS to consider nutrition in order to save hers. We also have a little girl who struggles with Insulin Resistance. I DETEST the fact that she is dependant on medication twice a day. Worse, the doctors think that hers is the rare case where it is NOT caused by poor diet and lack of exercise (because she falls into NEITHER category), therefore cannot be reversed with medication. This means, she could be on medication for the rest of her life. I hate that! If that is the case, we'll take it because I know it could be so much worse.

In light of ALL of this, I have decided to check into "Clean Eating" and have found that it's not horrible. I tried a little experiment this weekend. Last night we had sandwiches..."cleaned up" sandwiches. I have always given the kids all-natural peanut butter. They don't really know the difference so they don't complain. (I wish I would have done this with SO many other things!) Instead of jelly with their peanut butter, we used bananas and strawberries.

I put a little honey on Big Daddy's sandwich to sweeten the deal. THEY LOVED IT!!!! So much that they didn't even complain about the wheat bread! Claire even ate her crust! Today for lunch, she ate not one, but TWO sandwiches. (Which was great because the child NEVER eats anymore!) I realize, this was just a VERY small step and really nothing major but it was such a boost to my confidence. I am looking forward to trying some of the recipes in my new book.

Father Daughter Dance 2010

Claire's school has a Father Daughter dance every year. While it serves as a great fundraiser for our PTA, that night I saw that the benefits go FAR beyond just money. When I came home after school with my girl we saw these....

I saw the look in her eyes...

I saw the smiles on their faces.

I saw beautiful decorations....

made just for these beautiful girls.

Most of all, I saw a room full of dads...showing their little ladies how women should be treated. They ushered them in proudly through the front doors. They took their coats and pinned their flowers on their sweet little dresses. They danced the night away with them and brought them plates full of goodies! I loved watching every second of it. (This is a perk of being a volunteer because moms weren't invited!) I am so thankful that Claire has such an amazing Daddy. After all, I know from experience how important the relationship is between a girl and her daddy.