Eight

D,

This morning when I went to wake you up, you were already awake and after I sang happy birthday to you , you gave me the biggest grin and said "I'm eight now". You are so excited to grow up and be a big kid. I want to stall time and let you be a little boy for just a little bit longer. Mostly only for selfish reasons though. You have always had an old soul in a kid body. I just want you to stay that little snuggly mama's boy forever. Maybe you'll just be a big mama's boy instead? You do still love to snuggle.

You are growing to be such a little man lately. You are more confident than ever and more assertive with people who would otherwise take advantage of your sweet personality. Its been good for my heart to see you thriving socially and making new friends all the time. You've always been so much more shy than your little brother but you are coming out of your shell more and more, showing off your fun, caring side to more people.

Second grade is treating you well so far. You are enjoying the little bits of extra freedom your personality grants you especially. You are the kid that teachers trust to run errands for them. Even last year you were the kid that your teacher trusted to take other kids places like the nurse or office to check out. You are trustworthy and its good that your teachers are seeing it. Academically, you are thriving too. Math is not your thing but you make it happen. You get it honest kid, sorry.

Baseball is still your thing. You have grown a lot on the field in the last year too. Its crazy how much skill and determination you show on the field. You want to be the best and want to learn. Your coaches have all said how impressed with your drive and how well you take direction. Its shows in your playing too. You are quite the slugger and have settled into the pitcher/ second base rotation with more experienced kids and are showing them a thing or two. To say I'm proud is and understatement. Of course all that baseball and your second favorite pastime, swimming, means you are built like a rock. Tall and slim but literally all muscle.

Of course you also welcomed your little brother Bae with an open heart this year too. I knew you would. You've always had this ease about you when it comes to babies. They always just adore you and he is no exception. You get a little rough with him some times without meaning too but as he gets bigger, I'm sure he will make an excellent wrestling buddy just like Kai. You were so excited to see him for the first time. I will never forget the way your face lit up when you walked into the hospital room and saw him laying there on the bed with me. It was like excitement and a sense of peace all rolled into one. It was as healing to you as it was Michael and me. Like a puzzle piece just clicked int place in your heart.

I am so proud of you D. You are strong in ways beyond your years, you are kind to every one you meet, and you are so very smart. I can't wait to see what the next few years bring you. They will be a period of immense growth, and while I don't think I am ready for it, I know you will handle it with the same grace you handle everything else with. I will always be right here behind you, in awe, if you need me my love.

Love always,
Mama

Monster 6.0

My Sweet Monster,

Today you turn six. Six hurts my heart more than five did or some reason. You are just so excited about it though and its infectious. You have been giving us the countdown for weeks on how many days until your birthday and I have been impressed at how well you have kept track. Then you woke up this morning all excited because its finally here! You opened most of your presents yesterday and you loved the toys you got but your face when you opened the Skylanders game is one I won't soon forget. Pure joy! You get to do show and tell at kindergarten all week for your birthday week and I can already tell you are going to run out of days before you run out of things you want to take.

This past year seems like such a blur. You have grown physically by leaps and bounds. Getting taller and stronger by the day it seems. You have officially outgrown your big brother in the weight department and are getting close to doing the same in the height department as well. I still hold to my stance that you will eventually outgrow us all. You will be a big, strong boy when you grow up, just like you are now.

You've grown in the sports department too. I used to say you were going to be my math-lete instead of my athlete because of your clumsy but you've actually (finally) started getting more control over your own feet. You played t-ball again last fall and spring but you still hated it so we skipped it this fall. You will like coach pitched ball so much better, I am sure of it. For now though, you have been excelling at swimming. We started you in swim classes early this summer and you've taken to it extremely well! You keep moving up levels and out swimming kids much bigger than you. Michael thinks you might be a swim team kid if you put your mind to it and I agree. You are strong and fearless and love a good competition.

You still have that huge personality too. The kind that draws people to you like a carnival ride they weren't sure they wanted to ride but convinced them to anyway. You love to entertain and love to play but mostly you love to talk. Also, be in charge. We're working on that last one but sometimes its impressive how good you are at it. Even with much bigger children. They all listen to you and do their part. Maybe you'll be a politician.

You got a new baby brother this year too and you have absolutely been over the moon. Your little brother, even at a few weeks old, just adores you. He will be fussy and wiggly but when placed in your arms, or you start to talk to him, he gets still and pays attention to you. Even when nothing else works. ITs really pretty amazing to watch. I'm glad for you. You were so excited about im. Especially after Gage, you needed a take home baby as much as any of us. If anyone asks, you always tell them you have 3 brothers and it makes my heart leap every time because you remember. You loved and you love and I love you.

Baby, I'm so proud of you. I love your crazy. I love your heart and incredible mind. You are an amazing little mama's boy and I am excited to see just how far your drive and personality takes you. It will be far.

I love you my monster,
Mama

Gage Jason: His Life (Part Two)

Part two of my little Gage's life. His life. If you are just tuning in, start here.

I waited in the quiet delivery room for a bit before a nurse came in and told me that they never got me registered and she had to get me put into the computers. She was very sweet and comforting to me saying they had a great NICU and she was sure that he woud be just fine.

They finally asked if they could bring me something to eat and for the first time, I realized I was starving. They went and grabbed me some breakfast and I was still picking at it when Michaels mom came in. I filled her in on everything I knew and told her Michael had gone with him and was supposed to report back to me as soon as he knew something.

About an hour later Michael came back and said he didnt look good. They were hooking him up to some machines, getting some iv lines in, etc, and they were supposed to call when they got him stable enough for us to come back.

The next hour was torture. They moved me into a recovery room and the nurses cames and went, bringing snacks and drinks and explaining paperwork. The lactation consultant came in and brought me a pump. Michael's father came in, my father came in. Each time, we had to tell them we still didnt know anything. I was trying so hard. So hard not to panic but every time we called the NICU number they were still woorking on him.

Finally we got a call that Michael and I could come see him. They needed to talk to us about his condition. The nurse brought us a wheelchair for me and we went to the NICU, scrubbed in, and went to Gage's side. I could tell from the first look things werent good. He was hooked up to a myriad of machines and there were 8 medical staff members standing around working or watching. I held his little foot in my hand while they explained what all of the machines were. The oscillator to help him breathe, chest tubes on both sides to try to drain the fluid out of his lungs, an iv and pic line in his belly button and a bunch of monitors to keep tabs on his stats. They were also doing an echocardiogram on him to check his heart. Whatever the cardiologist was looking for, she was having a hard time finding.

The perinatologist pulled us out in the hall after a while to explain more of the why and what. He had what was called pulmonary hypertension. His lungs were not expanding like they should. She showed us the xray of his lungs and explained how much bigger they should be than they were. She explained that the capilaries in his lungs had been damaged because he had not gotten the fluid squeezed out enough during the birth process.

Overall, She was hopeful. She told us that he would most likely be ttansported to Egelston (the childrens hospital) when he was stable enough and they had a machine that could help clear out and expand the capilaries. She explained that he was considered extremely critical but that it wasnt hopeless. They would do another xray in a bit and we would see if he had improved. She recommended we go see him for a few more minutes and then go back to the room for me to rest. So that we did.

We went back and shared the news with the family waiting. They started asking when they would be able to see him and we told them they were supposed to let us know when he could have more visitors.

So we waited. I posted to Facebook that he seemed to be doing better but to keep praying. I texted my mother and told her to come on to the hospital with D and K.

Then the phone rang. We spent a few minutes talking to the neonatalogist again and she said that his lungs were actually improving. She wanted to know if anyone in the house had been sick in the last few weeks. We told her no one and she said he appeared to have contracted some kind of infection but they were treati NH him with antibiotics to try to get on top of it.

She also said it was okay for the family to come down to see him. At that point there was a mass exodus. Everyone went to see him except me. I stayed and waited for my mother and best friend to come. I sat and waited but ached to be back to my baby. My friend Steph, who works at the hospital, came by to see me and check on me. It was such a relief to see a loving face.

When they came back, only Michael came into the room. The rest stayed outside and my heart immediately sank. The look on Michael's face is one I'll never forget.

"He isnt doing good at all." He said. "He's completely purple from the chest down. He has an infection and all the doctors will tell me is its not good. They are trying to figure out what kind and started him on more antibiotics."

We sat in silence for a few minutes letting it sink in. I wanted to go see him. So Michael wheeled me back to the NICU. My poor baby looked bad. He was still hooked up to all the machines and he was the most scary shade of mottled purple from the nipple line down to his toes.

We stood at his side crying, begging him to fight. Begging him to get better. "We need you Gage. Please."

Crying to God "please dont take our baby. Please heal him.".

We stayed for a long time. People rushing all around us pumping him full of antibiotics. Encouraging him. The neonatalogist came back in and kept saying she didnt understand where he got the infection. Transport to Egelston was no longer an option. It was up to Gage now. His chance of survival had dropped.

I had to go back to my room to be checked. In the hall leaving the NICU, we ran into my best friend, Lisa. I told her he wasnt doing well at all and she comforted me the best she could.

Everyone was back into the room and the boys arrived with my mother. Thats when the dam broke. All I could do was drop to my knees and hold them close while I sobbed. They both wrapped their little arms around me and hugged me back. My boys were my strength right then and somehow they knew it. They didn't say a word. They just stood there, faces buried in my neck and hugged me back.

Michael's sister and aunt came in asking what was happening. I tried to make a coherent answer but all I remember getting out was "I cant bury my baby" and then sobbing into my mothers shoulder.

Eventually I came back to reality. The room silent around me. The boys went and got a hug and kiss from Michael and we turned the tv on. Michael went out in the hall and cried, eventually wandering back in to sit.

When I settled down, I moved back down to the couch next to Michael when the phone rang. It was the neonatalogist. She said that they had done everything they could but his organs had begun shutting down from the infection and they were still waiting on the lab results to come back. I asked if this was something he was going to recover from and she replied that it didnt look good. I asked what his prognosis was now, days, weeks, what. She sobbed quietly and said "more like hours". We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Everyone was staring at me, waiting for an update. I uttered the words that no mother should ever have to say: "He's not going to make it".

Chaos ensued in that little room. Crying, questions, hugging. General disbelief. Someone took the boys to the hall to play and we cried harder. 

A few minutes later, the NICU called back and said we needed to come. He was declining and decisions needed to be made. We all rushed down to the NICU. All of us.

As we all got into his room, Michael and me went straight to him, kissed him and cried. At 7:30 pm, my Gage took his last breath, shuddered and was still.

What seemed like forever but was probably only seconds, a kind faced blond nurse made eye contact and simply said "He's gone. Im so sorry".

And then... I died. I died a horrible, painful mama death. One you cant put words to. I couldnt move. I couldnt breathe. All I could do was continue to stroke his tiny hand in my fingers and say "I love you." Over and over.

The sound that came out of Michael seemed like it came from another room. It wasnt until he folded down onto the warmer I even realized it was him. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

The room was full of our family. They were all struggling to understand what was going on and all we could do is sob. We were asked if the nurses should clear the room and I remember looking up at the faces of our parents and Michael's sister and aunt. There was no way I could send them away. Instead I asked that we could find some chairs and all hold him.

They unhooked my youngest son from the machines that were supposed to save him and swaddled him. They brought him to me and layed his sweet body in my arms. He was so warm and soft. I snuggled him close and kissed his nose again. I prayed and cried and kissed.

Then, Michael held his son for the first time and he did the same. Kissed, hugged, cried. If there is anything I could go back and do from his birth, it would be to let him hold his son before they took him to the NICU. His live son.

Everyone took turns holding him. No words to say we just cried and held each other. At that time we were all one family and I would not change that for the world.

One by one, the family went home. To their babies and homes. My father made the trek home to his fiancée. My mother went to get my boys to bed. My best friend kept at us until we agreed to have her sister, a Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep photographer, come and take pictures of us and our little bear. Michael's mom and dad stayed with us and Gage and I'm so glad they got that time with us.

After the pictures and the snuggles, after midnight, the nurse came in and told us the funeral home would be there to collect him soon. We gave him a kiss and tucked him into his little bassinet and did the hardest thing we had ever done. We walked back to our hospital room with empty arms, knowing we would never hold our little bear, Gage Jason Hendrix, again. 

Gage Jason: His Birth Story

This is a story that is so very hard for me to tell so forgive me. On March 27th of this year, I gave birth to a baby boy at 8:01am. We named him Gage Jason. He was born at 40 weeks and 1 day. My little man lived only 11 hours. This is part one of his story I suppose. His birth story. 

I woke up at about 6:30 in the morning to some pretty intense contractions. Something in the back of my mind said "He's coming." but I was determined to not rush to the labor and delivery department this time and get sent home again. So, I got up and went to the bathroom. The contractions were getting sharper and fast. I got a message from Michael saying he was headed home and all I could muster in response was "good".

As he got home, I unlocked the front door and got into a warm bath. It seemed to help the pain a little but I could tell they were coming together in a more regular pattern. After a few minutes, I decided we needed to get moving to the hospital, got out of the bath and went to wake Michael up. I woke him, not very gently, and told him we needed to go. Now.

From there it was a whirlwind. He got up and got every thing in the car and woke up my mother to tell her we were leaving while I struggled to get dressed. It was kind of like it is in the movies with him running around doing everything while all I could do was try to breathe and moan. He ended up coming and helping me get pants and a t-shirt on and we made our way to the car after kissing D and K.

The ride to the hospital was not easy. It was rush hour so the normally 5 minute ride to the hospital took much longer. By the time we pulled into labor and delivery I wasn't sure how I was going to make it upstairs without having a baby in the elevator. Michael let me out at the door, made me promise to wait for him and parked the car.

We got to the desk at triage and I couldn't speak. I seem to remember someone asking if I was in labor and Michael saying "Does it look like it?" before they strapped an armband on me and sent me to yet another triage desk to wait for a nurse to check me in there.

We waited for a few minutes there before a med student came wandering up and asked some stupid questions like "are you sure this is real labor" before ushering us to a room and instructing me to strip and put on the gown.

I was in constant pain at this point. The contractions were hardly dipping before coming back at full speed. I was moaning and screaming trying to get the clothes back off that I couldn't even get on myself to begin with. I knew I was past transition and he was coming soon. Michael came into the bathroom and helped me get the clothes back off and the gown on before I told him he needed to go get me some help. 

"Go get the nurse and tell her I need help!".

He went out and told the nurse what I told him and she said "I can hear her. Tell her to give me a minute.". I've never wanted to smack someone so bad. Give me a minute indeed lady. I have a baby trying to burst his way out of me.

She did send the med student wandering back to try to get me on the monitors. She was still trying to coax me into the bed by telling me they had to monitor me for half an hour before they could admit me because my water had not broken yet (and that meant it probably wasn't true labor) when the nurse came swaggering in. I say swaggering because she was certainly not in any hurry to come help the screaming, laboring woman and the intimidated med student trying to tell her this might not be real labor. They did finally coax me into the bed and started strapping the monitors to me by telling me that if my contractions weren't stopping, it could mean something was wrong with the placenta. When I told her I was fine but he was coming they needed to get me a room, she finally stopped with freaking monitors and checked me.

10 centimeters and crowning.

Told you so.

She quickly sent the med student to call my midwife and get us a room number. I remember telling her I needed to get in some hot water and she said I wouldn't have time. I also remember thinking some very unkind things about the med student which it turns out I actually said out loud and made her cry. I was informed of that later.

Anyway, we were headed down the hall to room 306 when my water broke. I immediately felt better. Even though only a little water came out, it relieved just enough pressure to make things easier. When we finally got to the room, it was already buzzing with people. Talking and discussing me and my lady parts and progress and get her to the bed. The one that rings the loudest to me now was "call the pediatrician, make sure he knows we have one on the way".

As soon as they got me scooted over to the actual bed, my midwife came in. It was Kim. I was so glad to see her. She was the one we had seen the most and the one we both had fallen in love with. She got her gloves and gear on as quick as she could. She said "I see hair" as she slipped into her gloves and then I pushed. 25 minutes after we arrived at the hospital and 80 minutes after I woke up, Gage was born. According to Michael he came "flying out". All I know is it was a one push deal. That's the way to do it for sure.

They put him up on my chest and I immediately fell in love. He was pink and perfect with just a little brown hair. Noticeably smaller than my other two but it struck me how very much he looked like his daddy. And how he wasn't breathing well.

He was trying to breathe. He was squeaking and breathing a little but his color was not good. He was struggling. I kept repeating "c'mon baby Gage, breathe for me" and rubbing his back. After about a minute, Kim clamped his cord and the nurse tried to take off with him before the cord got cut. There was a rather tense exchange between her and the nurse before she let a very stunned looking Michael cut it and the nurse took him to the baby warmer.

Michael went to be by Gage's side while they worked on him and I just lay there and watched. I birthed the placenta (which was perfect) and made small talk with Kim while she stitched me a little. 

All I could focus on though was the little sounds coming from the warmer. He was so quiet. He was crying here and there but not enough. Not strong enough. The pediatrician came in. They were working hard to get him screaming but there was a rising tension and quiet between the nurses.

It was deafening.

When they got done with me, they brought in the isolator and I knew immediately what that meant. My little man was going to the NICU. I was trying to keep panic at bay but I've done the NICU thing before and it was all too vivid in my mind. 

They brought him to me all swaddled up to snuggle for a minute and he was still very blue and squeaking a pissed off little squeak. As soon as he heard my voice, he stopped squeaking. He seemed to calm down and relax a little while I talked to him but he still just couldn't breathe. I snuggled him, told him I loved him so very much and I would see him soon. I kissed his warm little nose and forehead. I said a quick prayer for God please make my baby okay.

And then they were gone. The whole room left in a wisp and I was alone.

(PART TWO HERE)

Two Swimmy Fish

Its official, both my boys can swim! D learned to swim unassisted last Summer but has only gotten stronger and more confident this year. Lately he has been perfecting his dive. Its progressed from a cringe worthy belly flop to a much more sophisticated looking dive.



K on the other hand refused to be in the water and not be wrapped around your face and/ or have a swim vest on until this year. I even tried swim lessons to make it easier and it didn't help.

At the beginning of the swim season this year, I got him a new vest and let him have at it. He has been so much more confident this year its almost like a different kid. He jumps in and puts his face in and swims all around the pool chatting up strangers all day as long as he had his vest. If I took the vest off he would panic. Until recently. His confidence I  the water has grown by leaps and bounds in the last month. Then, today, I decided to try again.



Little fart had me snowed! He took off across the pool like it was no big deal. Jump in and swim to you, mom? No problem. Go fetch that diving ring from water over my head? Check. The only thing I cant convince him to do is backfloat. He is convinced he's going to drown on his back for some reason. Still, I'm impressed as heck. First they taught themselves to use the potty, then they taught themselves to swim. No complaints here!

How old were your kids when they learned to swim?

My Very Own Toothless

Ok, maybe not toothless but a tooth less for sure! 

First tooth gone!

Who told him that he could grow up??

My Not So Little Monster

My little monster is getting way too big here lately. Yes, he will be 5 in less than 3 months but I never said he was allowed to grow up on me. All of a sudden he has gotten the big boy look. The big feet, the big hands, the definition in his legs. 

He has always had the big boy personality. Well, a big personality in general actually. He's out grown the sass that comes with turning four though. He is much more reasonable and definitely easing on the temper. Still working on the lying though. At least he's bad at it.

He has been a talker since birth (practically) and has no qualms about chatting up strangers. Thats where his huge personality really shines. He can carry on a conversation with anyone. He can also talk just about anything out of other kids and some adults. He's quite pursasive. My mother says he is going to make quite a senator some day. 

He is also losing a little of the clumsy that has kept him quite gravity aware for most of his life. He is getting strong and losing a little of the heft that gained him the nickname "hunky". He loves to wrestle and swim. Baby boy would live in the pool but he's not quite there with the swimming yet so he takes his trusty vest with him.

Of course he still loves to snuggle. He has always been the most physically affectionate little kid I've ever seen. He will hug, kiss, and snuggle anyone he thinks might need it. Even if they arent so sure they did. Especially from a pool wet kid. Still, hes a lover and a big time mamas boy.

My little goof is growing up. I am not ready for this. He is supposed to stay little. Both of them are. 

Au Revoir 2013

Well, 2013 has come and gone. Even at its worst, its been better than some of the previous years. I won't complain. I've found happiness and joy in 2013. I've lost and I've gained. Admittedly, I have been rather absent in 2013 as well. Call it a mental health year I guess.

Still, there were a lot of memories made. Just like years past, I want to share some of my favorites from the year with you. Even when my heart isn't in it completely, I do still love to share my little corner of the world with all of you.

In January, I spent some time getting my groove back and battling the Thursdays.

February brought our Staycation in the ATL and we welcomed Spring with open arms. 

March was a month of exploring new cities and spending time in a beautiful place. 

April saw the joy of two handsome boys and the shock of a nation.

In May, I bought my shiny and took a little trip with my boys.

June brought us to the Braves game and a little relaxation time at the local beach.

In July, we got a ridiculous amount of rain but we still found time for some fun.

August saw our television debut!

October meant a partial Hootie

September, November, and December were unfortunately quiet around here though. Like I said, mental health... months? That doesn't mean there wasn't fun times to be had, just that there were so many I didn't share. 

As for the 2013 list? It was a big failure this year. I hate it and its really bothered me in the last couple of months but there just didn't seem to be enough time this year. Of course that just means that next year will bring some of the same challenges but I am okay with that. I am more than ready to bring the A game and get it done for the new year. 

What are you looking forward to in the new year?

Six

My sweet baby D,

What a little man you have turned into! Recently you started Kindergarten and I'm not going to lie, it kind of broke your Mama's heart! Not that you aren't ready, I'm not ready! You stepped into the role of elementary school student like it was no big deal. A little shy but still the one that every one knows. Everyone talks about how sweet and cute you are. The most common comment is "those eyes!".

It doesnt surprise me though. You are a handsome little man. You are looking a little more like me lately too instead of a straight copy of your daddy. You are growing up.

Of course you have the most amazing personality to go along with the looks too. You are sweet. Genuinely sweet. You like for everyone to be happy and you will play with anyone.  You are kind hearted too. You giving and caring and just... sweet. I love that about you. Ive said it before but you are always so wise beyond your years.

Not to say you dont love to play. You love anything that is physical and involves lots of energy. I have you signed up to take hip hop dance classes and you want to be in the school musical that is coming up. I think keeping you busy keeps you sane. You love to be social and being active while being social is even better. Maybe we will try a sport again this spring.

You and your brother are the best of friends though. You two are trouble together but you are such amazing playmates. You are always sure to involve your little brother in whatever game you are playing,  even when he takes over and changes the rules so that he wins.

Tonight, when I told you it was bed time, you asked if I would tuck you in and sing you your song. I told you I would, just like every night, and you said "Even if I'm six?". D, I will sing to you, hold you in my arms, and love you through and through every night, every moment you'll let me, for your whole life. I love you so very much. The moments when you curl up in my lap, arms and legs overflowing, and snuggle into my chest is what keeps me going sometimes. You love big and you love your Mama most. I hope thats always the case because I know no matter what else life throws at us, that will never change.

I love you my big boy.

Love, Mama

Four

My handsome little monster,

I know I say it every year but I just can not believe you are four years old. You are no longer a toddler but a preschool aged kid now. To say that the last four years have flown by would be the understatement of the century. It seems like last week we were awaiting your arrival and getting nervous that you would make your appearance on your brother's birthday. I was filled with excitement on meeting your little self and nervousness of being a mother of two.

Your little personality was clear right from the start. You are the boss. You came out and we all immediately started dancing to your, sometimes offbeat, tune. Truth be told though, we love it. You keep everyone in their place and make sure we stay on task.

You are also a big lover. You are and in your face kind of love monster that will not be ignored. You will climb up in my lap and get right in my face with your eyes all wide and kiss me right in the mouth before exclaiming your love for me over and over. You're like that with a lot of people really but you are still a mama's boy through and through. Mama is your favorite and you don't care who knows it.

You and your brother have gotten into the sibling rivalry big time this year. Whatever D has or does, you are right there behind him. Its been hard for you for D to have started Kindergarten this year. You miss your idol. You've done really good about being patient and entertaining yourself and me while he was at school though. You are going to be such a class clown.

I'm proud of you baby. I try to say it often but I want you to know and remember just how proud of you I am. Always will be really. You are strong willed and handsome and goofy and lovey and you are my son. How did I ever get so very lucky?

Love, Mama

Bunk Beds!

Last week, the boys took a big step. Well, okay, a big step for me anyway. They upgraded to bunk beds! It was a half surprise from a loved one, half letting them pick out the bedding type of a deal. Needless to say, they are mad excited.

They have actually done a lot better about sleeping in them than I would ever thought they would. I figured that D especially would have a hard time adjusting because he usually does when anything changes. He has done great so far though. He is loving being the big boy and climbing up into bed where his brother can't reach him to pester him. K on the other had regularly falls asleep in the floor/ in the yard/ wherever he stops, so I knew he would be fine.  Of course, K has already gotten "stuck" up on the top bunk once already by climbing up there and being to chicken to climb back down. At least Captain Clumsy knows his limits? His brother has tried to help him figure out how to go up and down the ladder but its only half hearted at best because he really doesn't particularly want him up there. Which I can't blame him for. Everyone needs their own space. 

K picked Cars.

D picked Spiderman.

The best change so far? D is obsessed with keeping his bed made. Loving it!

Up next is a little paint and some decorations to match their choices of bedding. Luckily they are both pretty much the same color scheme. Here's to growing up!

Exhaustion Sets In

Its that time of year.  The beginning of the hottest weather and the point at which school has been out long enough that the kids are ready for a break from each other. Which is always a fun mixture, no? Of course that means we have been spending a lot of time either at the pool or one of the splash pads around the area which only compounds the exhaustion but in a good way. Meaning we are all sleeping like logs. My mother always said an exhausted kid is a happy kid.

In the mean time, the school year is sneaking up on us at an alarming rate. Which, for those keeping track, means that its almost time for D start Kindergarten. Ensue parental freak out. I am so not ready for my little man to start big kid school. It was just yesterday he learned how to walk, right?  I may be just a little bitter still that I won't be homeschooling him like I had planned to do since he was born, but at this point I can't do anything but put my trust in him and his future teachers and be his back up team if anyone crosses him. Don't poke the mama bear public schools! 

I know he is ready though. Maybe not ready for the total life change he is about to undergo with the new schedule and having to get up before dawn. I do know that he is ready for the learning and the friends and the adventure. He is ready to spread his little wings and take off into what is going to quickly turn into adulthood. Too quickly I'm afraid. 

Littles will be going to big kid pre-k this fall too and I am oh so nervous about that. He is oh so smart and intelligent but he is also a big time Mama's boy. I hate to see him have to develop a thicker skin but he will have to. Or so I'm afraid. There again, mama bear steps in. I have that overwhelming need to protect them from the world. It will all be ok. Right? Breathe. 

I can't even wrap my head around the fact that 2013 is halfway gone already. It seems to me like this year is going at an alarmingly fast rate. Its not even that it has been a bad year either. So far, its actually been the kind of year that the boys and I so desperately needed. Easy and relaxed with new friends to help us all along the way. Its just crazy that its already time to start thinking about their birthdays and what to do for a party. Especially with the craziness that school is going to bring. Might as well go ahead and get that part settled now so I am not freaking out last second. 

So, here's to summer. All of its craziness and hectic fun has to last a whole year this time. Might as well spend it the best way a kid knows how: Exhausted. 

Happiest of Birthdays to Me!

Today, I turned 32. Scary thing, 32. Still, I could not have asked for a better birthday. Considering how bad the last few years have gone, there wasn't really much competition. I spent the morning with my boys hanging out and opening presents. D insisted I had to have a party crown so I dug out my mother's old homecoming queen crown to wear for the morning's festivities. We had birthday cake for breakfast and then I opened the presents the boys and my mother had gotten me.

My favorite part of the morning though, was the boys' singing me happy birthday and then helping me blow out my candles. *swoon*


After we messed around the house for awhile we got dressed and went to our favorite restaurant for lunch. The boys call it the "fire restaurant" but its actually a Japanese steak house. As we stuffed ourselves silly, D leaned over and told me I was his best friend in the whole wide world and I nearly broke down in tears. These boys definitely know how to make their Mama feel special. 

After lunch, I went shopping with my father. That's right ladies and gents, my father voluntarily took me shopping for clothes. Four stores later, something tells me he regretted getting himself into that situation. I kid. He helped me find some great new work/ interviewing clothes and for that I am so grateful. With money as tight as it is and with all the weight I've lost, my closet is a bit scary. 

Not the best picture but its new!!

When I got home from shopping with my dad, I had a couple of surprises waiting for me. Actually, the delivery man was just getting out of his truck to give one to me. Talk about service! Anyway, I got the most beautiful bouquet of flowers from a close friend that is out of town for my birthday and let me tell you what, I haven't cried like that in awhile. Happy tears but totally unexpected tears. 

Gorgeous, Right??

I also got a beautiful plant and gift card for a mani/ pedi from a close friend of the family and a new bathroom rug (which was quite needed) from my mother. 
I am so blessed to have such amazing friends and family that have made my birthday special. From Facebook posts and emails to flowers and gifts, there is no doubt in my mind that I am loved this year. Its such a wonderful feeling and it has certainly made my birthday rich and happy. Happiest of birthdays to me! 

My Little Boys #WW

These boys. They are my whole world. They have shown me how to love and how to grow. They have shown me how to stay young even when I feel my oldest. To let things go and to forgive, even when it wasn't warranted. They keep me strong and keep me fighting for the right causes. They keep me grounded and keep my hurting heart in check. Sometimes, love just isn't a big enough word for what I feel for them.

On the Boston Tragedy

I have never been to Boston. In fact, the closest I have ever been is probably Connecticut. Still, I can't help but just feel completely devastated by what happened at the marathon yesterday. At what point did the human race decide that killing other humans was the way to prove anything?

People say it was a form of pure evil but I have a hard time accepting that. I guess evil is a hard word in general. Show me a living person that has never done anything evil and I'll be amazed. People are inherently good but they are also inherently selfish.

I think the best way I have seen of putting my reaction was posted on Facebook yesterday:

I am angry. I am angry at the person who did this and determined that it should not do what it was meant to do. Inflict terror. Terror is a state of mind. Its a knee jerk reaction and something that has become such a stigma in our world. Its something that we need to fix but the way to fix it is to show these people that we won't be pushed around anymore.

Like the bravery shown by the teachers at Sandy Hook, that happened in Boston yesterday.  People ran into the smoke to help victims. Civilians were there with first responders tending the wounded as best they could with tourniquets and kind words. They showed that side of us that needs to be more prevalent. They showed that there is hope for us yet. 

So, while you are praying for the victims and their families, don't forget to send one out for the people that put themselves in danger to help. The good Samaritans, the police officers and EMTs, the nurses and the doctors who were confronted with horrors that no one could ever forget. 

A Mother's Love

Is it possible to love your children too much? It was said about me that I love my boys too much by someone I had never actually met. As odd as that seemed at the time, I take that as a compliment. My boys are my life. They are my blood. My legacy. Should they not be my biggest love?

(Via Pinterest)

I look at those little boys and all I see is love. They stole my heart at first glance and that bond has only gotten stronger as the years go by. In the most pure and powerful sense. Should I not protect that? Shouldn't I listen to my most primal instincts as a mother? To love them most and shape them into the kind of little boys that the world needs so desperately?

How else do you show a child how to love but to love them and care for them in the way you want them to treat others? As a mother, I signed up to raise them the very best way and then stand back and watch them give that love away to their own children some day.

Its a bond that is not possible to be shared with any one else. Its not the kind of thing that you can feel for a husband or a parent or even a friend. Its definitely not something you can explain to the childless. Its like that corny quote says, they are the only ones that know what my heart sounds like from the inside. We know each other, and love each other differently, because of that.

Maybe sometimes people can't differentiate the difference between the way a woman loves her children and the way she loves every one else. It doesn't mean we love anyone else less, just not the same primal kind of force. Just because love is different, doesn't mean its less.

My children are my biggest priority. They are the reason I try my best to excel even when things are so hard it literally hurts my bones. I have to make their lives amazing. I have to raise the bar of love beyond their parents childhood's and histories. I want them to have everything we had and more. Its a responsibility I signed up for when I gave birth and its not one I shrink away from. I will defend their right to not only my love but those around us just as well.

Love is a powerful thing. Love has the power to heal and nurture and to free. Its something that shouldn't be shied away from or hidden. It has the power to change the the world and who best to show it to but our children?

2012 in Review

Its finally over! 2012 has come to a merciful end! Maybe you don't feel that way but I am glad its over. Its been a long on with lots of heartache and I am ready to get on with life and get this year behind me. Only way to go is up, right?

The year in review:

January: Photo Mojo Challange

 February: Our Trip to Gatlinburg

March: I Lost 30lbs! 

April: I Told of A Little One Lost

(Image Via Google)

May: I Finally Joined Instagram

June: I Came Clean About My Situation

July: We Moved. Again.

August: The Boys Started Preschool

September: My Boys Turned Three and Five

October: I Took A Some Time for Myself

November: I Spoke About Love and Thankfulness

December: ALL of Our Hearts Broke

I am thoroghly looking forward to 2013. A year of re-birth for me and the boys. Its time to make this life awesome. Are you coming?

The Morning After Heartbreak #NewtownCT

Yesterday, we got quite a shock. An unimaginable horror story played out in one of our quiet towns. What can be said at this point that hasn't already been said? I can't imagine that kind of evil. I can't imagine any one feeling that something like this is the answer. Mental illness is a hard one to predict.

Meanwhile, my heart is broken. Broken for the families of the slain children and faculty. Broken for the witnesses. Broken for the whole community. I held my boys extra tight yesterday. We snuggled and watched movies and played in the yard with the dog. We ate special snacks like it was a birthday. Occasionally I would sneak off to the bathroom and bawl my eyes out until I could hardly breathe.

After I got K down for his nap, my D curled up beside me on the couch and asked me why I was sad. I told him that my heart hurt and I was worried about some people that needed some extra love today. He simply told me he would kiss away my boo boo and kissed me all over my face. I am so lucky to have these little boys.

People keep saying that innocence was lost but I disagree. Innocence was shattered. Hunted down and ripped away. To say something is lost implies that it has simply gone astray with the possibility of being found again. While I would hope that is possible, I just don't think it is in this situation.

I do agree that the teachers and staff were heroic in protecting the young ones. Just like they are every day. Teachers in general are a special breed of human, you guys. Its a self less mostly thankless profession of people that genuinely care about our children. Otherwise they would not be there. Lord knows they could make more money doing something else. Thank your kids teachers. They love your littles too.

So what now?


Kiss your babies for me tonight. Hug them until you feel their heartbeats and memorize that feeling. Tell them that you love them and mean it. Show them how to love. Do it every. single. day. Raise them to know love of all forms. Even when it is hard to do.

Call your mother, your sister, your nieces and nephews. Tell them you love them. Make them know it. Make sure that you have told them what they mean to you specifically.

Treat the people you meet with overwhelming kindness. Go the extra mile. Hold a door, buy a coffee, share a kind word to the people that you meet. You never know who might need it most.

Now is the time to come together and change this crazy train ride. We are all in this together. Remember the hurt you felt in your heart when you heard about Newtown and vow to change the world we live in. Not by persecution or by mistrust but by kindness and love. Help and be helped. Love without bounds. We can do this. Deep breath, here we go.


*Reports of shootings and tragic circumstances can trigger overwhelming distress, even in people not directly involved. If you are in need of help, the Disaster Distress Helpline offers 24/7 support at 1-800-985-5990.

Train Fanatics

Little boys love trains. It seems to be something that they are born knowing about. My boys were no exception. They got their first train table last year for Christmas and have played with it pretty much every day since. Until we moved into the new place.

And now the whole living room is the train station. They will spend an hour every morning laying out the tracks making bridges and loops and weaving the tracks in and out of the furniture.

Then, they place their little hearts out. Lately all trains have become the Polar Express but sometimes they take turns as the Dinosaur Train or Thomas.

The best part is watching them play together. They work as a team building and playing and there is just nothing more heart warming to me. They have always played together like a dream but something about this particular game makes it even more amazing.

Then, they clean it up without a fuss before lunch and then gain before bed. They are really loving being able to redo the track every day so that helps. Its never ending fun.

Thankful 4.0

Every year I post on Thanksgiving about the things I am thankful for. I am generally a very gracious kind of person. My needs are few and I am beyond grateful for anything anyone throws my way. This year, though, has been quite a doozey on me and my emotional state. Its been full of ups and downs and twists and turns. I'm not gonna lie, being thankful has been harder for me this year than it has been in the past.

However, I am still thankful. Maybe even more so than I ever have been. I am thankful for my little boys this year more than ever before. They have been my driving purpose. My comfort and my warmth. Even the reason I got out of the bed for awhile. They have always known how to make me smile when I was down and make me forget my troubles. This year they have been my purpose. Everything I have done and worked towards has been done with a renewed purpose to better their lives (please don't let my babies suffer other's mistakes anymore). Without those two little smiling faces I would have been a lost person in every sense of the word. I thank everything that is for them.

Then there has been the support crew. My mother and father, who have been divorced for 13 years and hadn't spoken in 10, came together to help my boys and I out. They have done everything from supporting us financially while I found a job to giving us shelter when we had no where else to go to supporting me emotionally and lifting me up when I could hardly bear to breathe. They have held my hand while I faced the kind of meanness I never thought I would have to endure and stayed by my bed while I was recoverign from various ailments.

Its something that I suppose you expect from parents but until you witness it, until you witness that kind of love, you never know just how much you need your parents. I am thankful that they have been able to put aside their differences and take care of us in a way, even thought they shouldn't have had to, that only a parent could.

Of course there were the friends old and new that I am oh so thankful for as well. One of them, Lisa, I have known since I moved to Georgia a billion (okay 15) years ago. We have been friends since then, with periods where we didn't talk as much and periods where we talked more. We got married with in a few months of each other and our boys are all with in months of each other in age (she also has a little miss that's the baby). She was one of the first people I told when T walked out and she was immediately supportive. Ever since she has been there to help out when I needed someone to watch my boys or to read my ranty text messages about love and hate. She has been my sounding board. Heck, her husband even stayed up til 3am to help us move. Needless to say, I am beyond grateful for her and her family.

I am also thankful for all of the other friends both in real life and online that have helped to life me up out of a hole and keep me moving forward. If necessary with hot pokers. There are too many to mention but you know who you are. You are the ones actually reading this. You are the ones that didn't back down and disappear when I needed you most like so many others did. When I needed an ear or someone fresh to cry at when I had cried everyone else out. You helped us with money, you helped us with words, and most of all love. I am so blessed to have each and every one of you.

Of course I have to be thankful for Bob too. Sweet Bob. I honestly don't know who rescued who at this point. Bob came to us at a time when I needed someone 24/7 and the boys needed a playmate. Someone to talk to, someone to cry on, someone to give me a purpose in the middle of the night. Bob has always been a "mama's dog". He follows me around the house watching me clean or cook or whatever. If I am sad, he will come and put his face on me or just lean up against my leg and look up at me. He knows when I need love and he rubs around and around my legs like a cat until sit down and then he will just lay his head either on my shoulder or on my lap for some love or stand there while I lay my head on his shoulder. He also loves the boys like he loves me but he is much more gentle. He loves K in particular and is always very patient with him when he is doing things like poking q-tips in Bob's ears and proclaiming him an alien. He isn't a good guard dog but damn is he a good dog.

There always the little things in life to be thankful for too. I am thankful for a roof when we were so scared we wouldn't have one there for awhile. Even if it was a piece together job there for awhile. I am thankful for my landlord for taking us in and helping us out. I am thankful for food even if it means a little hand up. I am thankful for kind looks from strangers when the boys are losing it in a store and all I can do is cry. I am thankful for my job. I am thankful for you. For my readers. For being patient with me.

I went from being broken and feeling like I had nothing to be thankful for this past winter to having more to be thankful for than my heart could hold. I hope that this Thanksgiving is the same for you. I hope that you can look back over the last year and be even more thankful than you were the last. If not, I hope that the next year brings you closer to it.

Happy Thanksgiving. Now go eat some turkey and take a nap. Tomorrow starts a whole new ball game of crazy. Here comes Christmas. Ready or not.