john's mom works

this is 38. grocery store sushi and cake, 8pm, alone. and for a minute, i let it feel every bit that sad and blue. because honestly, sometimes things feel sad and blue. and one thing i am learning is that i can't deny that sad and blue. i gotta sit with it, feel it, cry a tear or three in my mediocre cake, and just be. this is 38. i am not 100% sure what i expected, but i had high hopes of a lovely birthday evening with my fellas, and instead i picked up the three crankiest angriest bullyingest boys in the universe when i went to the daycare. they were mean to each other and didn't want anything to do with anything i had to say. and instead of enjoying hanging out, we argued and fought and they went to bed unhappy and i sat down for my un-exciting birthday dinner, alone. but another thing i am learning is that routine is my friend. so i started my evening routine, finding my rhythm. a few minutes of sweeping and cleaning. a few minutes of prep for tomorrow, lunch...

kitchen bandit 3.0 my dear sweet little bean, you are two! you are two. how have we had you for two years -- the unexpected perfect capper for our little family? i still think you are in my belly, or maybe a teensy little baby bean in my carrier on my chest. but no! you are a dude now. a HAPPY dude: i've never known a baby (ehem, toddler) who smiled so much, and laughed so much. your sparkly little eyes light up so bright and you brighten everyone's days, from your family to your friends to your teachers to strangers at stores who are taken with your little impish grin. you are fearless and very big for your little body. i think you think you are the same as your brothers, that anything they can do you can do and nothing is stopping you. you have discovered the pool this summer, and you love to swim and "play water" and splash in our kiddie pool in the backyard, too. you love koalas. you call them kolalas. it makes me smile every time you see one in a book...

crazy and kind and loving and wild dear john, eight years ago almost as i am writing this, you made me a mommy. eight years, kiddo. how is that possible? from the moment you arrived you were infectious and vibrant and larger than life. at eight, you are still all of those things, only maybe more! your energy is limitless, but so is your heart and your compassion and my goodness, love, that smile lights a room. you have grown so much this year. oh, you are taller and none of your pants fit and suddenly i can't really carry you as well anymore (tho i won't stop trying), but that's not what i mean. you know yourself so well, you know how to work so hard, and you have made such strides in your ability to choose well and wisely and be the kind and amazing dude i have always known you to be. you are a great big brother (tho please stop telling your brothers they're wrong, they won't like that much) and i love to see you leading the other fellas in creative playi...

dear bean, when your daddy and i found out we were going to have another baby, we were pretty scared. we didn't know how to be parents to three chaos monkeys and didn't know what our family would look like with a new babe. it turns out we didn't have a thing to worry about, little one. from the moment you arrived you've been the happiest baby i've ever met. just like your brothers, you charm the people around you and endear yourself to everyone. when we came home from the birth center that night, john and charlie fell in love and immediately wanted to hold you and love you. you fit perfectly into a bean-shaped gap we didn't even know our family had. you've brought smiles and laughs to every member of your family every one of these past 365 days. even when you feel icky, like today on your birthday, your dear spirit shines through and you bring such light into the world. your daddy and i  are really grateful that god knew we needed you. your oldest...

goodnight selfie dear john, i just finished putting you to bed for the last time as a six year old. you thought it was great to give me the last ever "face shake" (our secret goodnight kisses) as a six year old boy. i thought it was pretty great, too. you have grown SO MUCH this year. not just gotten taller - though you have, you're huge - but gotten better and awesomer and amazinger. you are in control of your body and your actions in a way that is so very impressive. you work so hard to do things well, and take such pride in making people happy. you are generous, and compassionate, and you amaze me with your capacity to give to your little brothers to help them be happy. you are silly and fun and have a wicked sense of humor - even if i'm sometimes too old to get some of your jokes. you're a fierce hugger and a brave tooth-loser. one thing that makes me so proud is that you want so badly for things to be fair and right. they aren't always, ...

my pumpkins in the pumpkin patch i started writing this post in october. that's why there are pumpkins. that's why bean is small. that's why charlie looks like ... i don't know, a pound puppy or something with his shaggy hair in his eyes. that i started this post five months ago and it remains largely unwritten - that there is also an unfinished post on a belated birth story for ben ... it is indicative of where our family is these days. we are happy - look at those beautiful boys in a pumpkin patch! we are grateful - we have so many blessings to count and recount and positively bathe in. we are together - there are so many of us! ok, there are only five of us. but that is a lot when two are loud blustery beautiful big boys and one is a sweet busy baby boy. oh, yeah, and technically we're six, with the world's orneriest dog. we are also certifiably insane. and by that i mean, everyone else is fine and i am crazy. * * * before we found out ben...

boys in collared shirts. i've missed this blog. and this blog has missed me, too - it's missed a lot of change in our family, a lot of distance covered and a lot of growth, and oh yeah the addition of a third son. it's missed outings and discoveries and pictures and trials and tribulations. but mostly, it's missed pieces of the development of three really cool kids. and the evolution of their mommy as she tries to adapt to having three really cool kids and a really cool job and oh by the way a really cool husband and a pain in the ass but also cool dog. and i, have missed writing. so i shall try again. john (+charlie + ben)'s mom works. and writes. and loves. and welcomes you back to our adventure.

the cause of - and solution to - most of my life's frustrations. i did not ring in the new year as i had hoped. in fact, i did not ring in the new year at all. the new year arrived somewhere in between rounds of charlie in his bedroom door screaming "me want to go downstairs!" and me, patiently as i could muster, placing him gently back in his bed and telling him i loved him, goodnight. i finally collapsed in my bed around 2:30 a.m. after he finally, FINALLY, fell into a mommy-milk induced sleep and let me place him in his bed to stay. my last thought was a whispered prayer that please may these children sleep. at 7:11 a.m., the tiniest feet in the house padded next to my bedside and asked to sleep with me, which translated to throwing elle belle at daddy and eating my chapstick. so much for sleep. and i was mad. i didn't yell at charlie, but i did grump at both he and john to go upstairs and play. and when my husband got up to tend to them a wh...

these boys in their "boats." i'm not going to lie: there are days when i go to bed defeated and exhausted. there are days when i feel like there is no way i am possibly up to being the mom of these two boys, and also a wife and a professional and a friend and whatever else i am. those days are rough. today, though - today is NOT one of those days. these boys rocked my world today, and i couldn't be more grateful. daddy's at a football game tonight, so i've been "single parenting" (in big ol' fat quotes because i can't pretend to know even a piece of what that's really like). this is not a coherently themed blog post. it's just a collection of stories of ways my children amazed me today. #1: light is beautiful. after charlie and i dropped john off at school this morning, we were cruising the additional mile or two up the road to charlie's school. we were talking about his friends, and the stuffed dog he was hol...

spelling his sight words with cereal so much of the "public" attention i've paid john lately has been about our challenges - how to cope with sensory processing disorder, how to behave in kindergarten, etc. but every single day, john reminds me what a blessing he is to me. he has a perspective on life, and the world around him, that brings me into focus. he has a way of saying things that changes me and makes me better, every single day. last night about ten minutes after he'd gone to bed, i heard a slightly angst-ridden "mommy?" from upstairs. expecting a normal "i need some more water" or "my sheets aren't straight," i went to check on him. instead, he explained that he kept hearing "the mountain king" song from his music class in his brain. the sounds his diffuser made were "changing into the music" and it was a scary song and it wouldn't go away. i immediately understood, because his brai...

pajamaed monkeys ham it up. it's friday. are you dancing yet? i'm dancing. not only is our whole family maybe finally getting over the various cruddy illnesses we have had for the past two weeks, but ... drumroll please ... john had another great day at kindergarten today. for those of you not keeping track as diligently as i am (which is, you know, like the whole world), that's SIX straight days of awesome. which is a NEW RECORD. and i'm dancing. i'm also dancing because of that little pup on the left in the pic up there. his conversations on the way to school in the morning make my day so much brighter. yesterday, he told me all the things he misses when he's at school: "i miss my couch. i miss my chair. i miss my elle belle." but then he paused. "i ... see my friends? see amy? see halle? see 'livia? i have GREAT day!" what a skill, to talk yourself out of an i-don't-wanna-leave-the-house funk. and today was...

this kid ... on sunday, we paid a much overdue visit to see our friends at the eight house fire station in mckinney. the b shift guys were the ones who delivered charlie two years ago in the back of their now-retired ambulance. (see charlie's birth story here  and the story of our first visit to the eight house here ). it never ceases to amaze me how happy these guys are to see charlie - and their hospitality extends to john, too. the boys got to play ping pong in the bay of the fire house, get on and off the ambulance and fire truck, turn on lights and ring bells. every time, charlie's firefighter "uncles" give them hats and temporary tattoos and just seem to be so happy to see my boys. and two years later, i am still so grateful that i had the support of the b shift that crazy day. i think often about how charlie's birth story could be one fraught with isolation and fear. i was, after all, in the antiseptic back of an ambulance with strangers - all me...

he's a handsome little sucker. a disclaimer right up front: i am SO PROUD of all of my friends whose little kindergartners and other young ones who are sharing their kids' academic and citizenship successes after the first quarter of school. please don't read any bitterness into this blog, because i feel none. i am excited for your straight a's and certificates, and i leap for joy at how well your babies are adjusting. in fact i always figured i would be that mom - oh, like my friends, i would tone it down and not be TOO ridiculous. but i'd be trumpeting the great grades and awards. my kid's hands full of stickers and signs, grinning ear to ear at how well he's performed. he's smart enough, after all, and a hard worker and a sweet fellow. of COURSE he'd be in the top of everything. this summer, when we were discovering john's sensory processing disorder and just beginning to understand how it would impact him, a good friend said this ...

this guy right here ... i tell a lot of stories on this blog, sharing ups and downs of these two beautiful blond boys we’re lucky enough to share our lives with. and there are lots of stories to share, because they are active and awesome kids who make us laugh and cry, make us rue our weaknesses and be so proud of our strengths. no stories today, though. today i want to talk about transparency. there’s a strangeness to the era of social media. we share the most intimate details of some parts of our lives, yet edit heavily to portray the “best” of our selves. but the best of our selves is truly that we are human, and multifaceted, and dimensional – that we do not fit into happy smiley boxes of vacation pictures and beautifully decorated walls and immaculate homes and elaborately cooked meals. (tho there is nothing wrong with any of those things – but we are more.) shew, that’s an elaborate preface for a little blog entry. (another little preface here: i'm ...

exploring the doctor's stool while we wait for blood tests to come back. i try to maintain a pretty positive and, some might say, even pollyannaish perspective on our lives. nothing is gained by dwelling and festering, right? but i can say without equivocation that last week sucked. charlie came home monday afternoon with a high fever. he's my fever baby - if he's going to bother getting one, it's going to hit 103+ - so i wasn't too alarmed. rest and fever reducer and he'd be fine. but then tuesday he broke out in crazy hives. so my husband and his mom (who happened to be visiting) brought him to the doctor just in case. viral fever with rash was the diagnosis. ok, treat the symptoms, care for the cranky babe, he'll be fine. wednesday morning the hives were much worse - covering probably 60% of his body. i called the nurse. we discussed, and agreed that as long as there was no swelling around the mouth and no breathing issues we'd just kee...

"i'm five years old!" hey my birthday bug! i can't believe you turn five today. when you woke up grinning and leaped into my lap for the first "five year old kiss," i knew you were going to have an awesome day. you've given your daddy and me five years of awesome days, kiddo. you've challenged us, made us laugh, helped us be better people, and shown us the world through your brilliant creative eyes. you are so like me. sometimes that makes us mad at each other. sometimes we even yell. but i always know in my heart that we'll fight through it together and hug and take care of each other. we're a problem solving family, and you're an excellent little problem solver. you are so like your daddy. you are determined and persistent and funny. you liven our house with your laugh and your smile and your rambunctious running and climbing and jumping and never-standing-still. you are unlike any child i have ever known. you...

my little shaded studs we've been on a wild ride with my john the past year or so - he's an amazingly sweet, remarkable, mannerly, kind little boy, but there's a switch inside him that flips when he gets frustrated or overwhelmed, and he just can't process his big feelings. the result is some really disruptive behavior that's been a challenge for him to control. there've been good weeks and bad weeks, and after a particularly tough spell recently we decided to seek professional help. john had his first therapy session today, and he loved it and they seem to think we'll be able to help him find some coping mechanisms to learn how to control his emotional outbursts and process big feelings in a more productive way. i'm excited for him, that he will be a little more prepared by the time we start kindergarten in the fall. in the meantime, his little brain is unbelievable.  on the way to therapy today, i asked him how he met his "different...

swimming monkeys. i used to write. i wrote to document, for catharsis, to explore, to share. i wrote to remember. and then i stopped. today is just another day. but today, i am writing. this morning, charlie woke up chipper and silly. he made animal noises at me in his crib before he would let me get him up. he hid behind his blankie and giggled when i asked where he went. he snuggled me tight and shared his blankie with me when i picked him up. that is why i write. and in the car on the way to school, charlie sang a song about the sun. "sun sun sun sun sun" he sang. and then it was john's turn, and john sang a song about how when we see the sun, we know that god is here. god makes the sun rise and the sun set and we can see his face. that is why i write. and right now i am taking a brief break from my new work-from-home job, where i am crafting strategy and devising plans, and learning and pushing and growing. i feel a veil lifting as my creat...

bonus points if you recognize this as a bulldozer. i have a long vacation post that will come later this week, but a shorter note of great import today: last week, my first baby turned four. we had a week-long birthday celebration, starting with a birthday party at the grand canyon  with my dad's side of the family on monday june 16 ... then a wednesday june 18 (john's actual birthday) bulldozer birthday party with our dear friends in phoenix and their children - one of whom is almost precisely three months older than john so they're a great match ... wrapped up with yesterday's present-opening-extravaganza featuring all of the presents that were mailed to our house in our absence. we are so blessed to have so much family - of both the birth-given and the life-chosen variety - to celebrate with our kiddo. we are also so blessed to have this amazing four-year-old in our lives. he is the most challenging thing we have ever done, and one of the two most b...

both boys went back to sleep after i woke them up the first time today. how are kids so cute even in their sleep? mornings are not usually a strong suit at our house.  we're up early - i usually wake john around 5:30 and charlie around 5:45 - and out the door early, getting in the car by 6:30 at the latest. and we're not what you'd call morning people. but. BUT. today was an awesome morning. everyone was cheerful, the morning went smoothly.  while i was getting charlie dressed, john came charging excitedly into his baby brother's room yelling, "mommy! i found my pelican!" some backstory: once upon a time, john caught a stuffed pelican at a mardi gras parade. it was a sad silly pelican that was poorly stuffed and cheaply made. it was fluorescent green and orange. but for some reason he loved it. he fell out of love with it over time, as kids do, and i was pretty sure we had given it to my cousin to throw at another mardi gras parad...