Top 10 Reasons I Hope "It's A Girl!"

#10- This adorable dress my sister bought 10 years ago when I was pregnant with Luke. I have been saving it all this time.

#9- We could definitely use more estrogen in this house. I tried to get a female dog to help that situation 3 years ago but it didn't seem to help.

#8- I want to buy pink clothes with flowers and pink blankets and pink towels and pink washcloths (The funny thing is that there is only one pink shirt in my closet).

#7- I have two boxes of cute girl clothes in my garage courtesy of my friend Krista that are just waiting out there to be worn.

#6- I would love to see my boys with a little sister. I wonder how fun it would be for her when she hits high school.

#5- Daughters are honest with their mothers. I want someone to be able to tell me when my clothes are outdated or that my make-up went out of style ten years ago. I may regret this one later. 

#4-  I want to know what a girl of ours would look like.

#3- I want a daughter to go to lunch with and get manicures and pedicures with.

#2-  I want to be able to be there to help her when she has her first child. I know that you can help daughter -in-laws too, but it is somehow just not the same.

#1-  I want to see that cute husband of mine with a little girl. I want to see him hold her and look at her and someday walk her down the aisle.

But, regardless of all of this, I would welcome another boy joyfully! I trust that the child perfect for our family is on his or her way. It is miraculous how much you can love someone you have not even laid eyes on.

A Memory

I was just looking through my photos and found this one. It is when we brought Ty home from the hospital. Luke had just turned 5 and Jack was 3 and a half. What big brothers! It makes me a little teary thinking about how much they have all grown since then. It just goes by so fast. 

It does make me happy thought to realize I now have carpet on those stairs and we are no longer under construction. 

Why Do Our Kids Think We Value Them?

It is baseball season. This is a big deal in our home because Jason always coaches the boys' teams. This year he is managing both Luke's and Jack's teams, which makes me team mom/scheduler/organizer of both teams. Anyway, it takes over our life a little bit. 

This brings me to last night. Luke plays catcher on his team. He is new to this position this year and it is a little high stress for me because the catcher has a lot of responsibilities- there is the fact that people can steal on him and he has to be aware of what is going on at every base, and there is this other rule called the drop third strike rule. His dad and his great uncle are his coaches. So, unlike with other players, they do not hesitate to correct him or yell at him during the game. 

Now, this is not mean yelling. It is just yelling so he can hear them and knows what to do.  He is pictured below. So darn cute!

Our game started at 7:50pm on a school night.  I could write a whole other post about that, but I'll refrain right now. We were playing the first place team and winning, but they were starting to come back. It was after 9:30pm and Luke had been catching the whole game. He had the ball in his hand and a runner came home from third and scored on him. He was looking at first base, not at the runner on third. I was like, "You have got to be kidding me. What was he thinking?" I never knew how competitive I was until I started watching my kids compete. But, I have learned to keep my mouth shut most of the time. 

Luke's team ended up winning the game. It was now 10pm,  we were leaving the field and do you know what this nice mother said to her child? It was this, "Luke, you did such a great job catching the whole game, but what happened with that runner scoring on you from third?" This is where my husband explained to me that Luke was supposed to throw it to first because there were two outs and that it was a hard call to make.

 I feel like such a jerk. 

I know that it wasn't that mean compared to what some other parents say to their kids, but really, I didn't need to deliberately point out the one thing that he possibly did wrong. Nobody likes that, especially me.

Jason and I both expect our children to do their best at whatever they do. It does not have to be perfect, but they must try their best at schoolwork, at being kind, at sports. If they don't, we can push them. But, sometimes I feel like I am being critical and correcting all the time. This can't be good.

This got me thinking about a conversation that I had with one of my dear friends this week. It was about why our kids feel they are special, why they matter. I have always told my kids that they are special because God made them unique and that there is nobody else exactly like them in the world. I have told them that He has great purposes for them. 

But I wonder how my children interpret my corrections and criticisms that are often in the name of good parenting. Do they think that they are only valued if they "perform" to my expectations? If they are kind? If they get good grades? If they make good choices? If they perform during a ball game? I surely hope not, but I can't take it for granted.  

This is why I need to be sure to speak those words out loud. To say specifically to them when they are actually listening, " No matter what you do or don't do, you are valuable to me and I love you. No matter what grades you get, how you perform in the game, what other people say about you, you are special to me.  I love you simply because you are mine."

I know that if I was valued by God based on my performance alone, I would fall short every time. I would much rather rest in the knowledge that He loves me, not for what I do or don't do, but simply because I am His. My children need to be able to rest in that too.

                                                                            JACK

Praying for Stellan

I have put a button on my blog in the top right corner about a four month old little boy named Stellan who is hospitalized right now. His mother writes one of the blogs I love and he is currently experiencing SVT which is a very rapid heart rhythm. It is very dangerous and they are trying to find the right mixture of medications to get his heart into a normal rhythm.  If you feel led, please join me in praying for this little guy to be healed and strength for his family. To read Stellan's full story, just click on the button with his picture. 

Mommy's Day at Preschool

This is a picture of me and Ty at "Mommy's Day" at preschool. We were playing doctor. He put the stethoscope up to my tummy and said, "I hear the baby's heart beat." It was so precious. Then he found some scissors in the doctor kit and said, " The baby said it is time to come out" and performed his first c-section. Thankfully, the scissors were plastic.

An update for those following Ty's preschool situation. A few weeks ago after leaving the school in tears (me not him), Jason and I decided to pull him out for a week to see if the situation improved. This ended up being a great decision. The teacher stopped the girls from yelling "Ty is coming" when they saw him and his friends have been treating him much better.  He loves school and loves his friends. If things had not improved, I was thinking of changing classes, but I am so glad it did not come down to that. 

Miracles

I am just sitting here thinking about miracles. Do you believe in them? I know that there is one growing and kicking inside of me and I feel so blessed, so spoiled really that I will have another baby two weeks from today. I am not worthy of this gift, this entrusting of a life. But I am grateful, abundantly so.

After my step-mom died of pancreatic cancer, I didn't believe in miracles anymore. You see, I had absolute faith that she would be healed. But, God had a bigger plan. I now believe that she was healed in a bigger, wider, more encompassing sense that I cannot even fathom. However, her death did shake my faith and it took me a while to get to this point. 

A few years after her death, Jack had a seizure at age three. He seized for over twenty minutes until the paramedics gave him medication on the way to the ER. In the ER, they did a CT scan. I was 7 months pregnant with Ty. The doctors came in and said, "I am so sorry, but we found something on his brain. We are going to admit him." I remember going into the bathroom so Jack would not see me and falling to the ground (not normal for me in a public bathroom) and crying out to God, "I need to hear your voice. This is my baby." I was very scared and broken. He heard my cry and carried me through the next five months of testing and waiting. 

The MRI they did found spots on his brain that nobody could explain. They did two spinals on him and tested him for degenerative disorders. They did EEGs and multiple blood tests. We had many different teams of brain surgeons and neurologists look at his results. They were unexplainable. They said his brain looked like that of someone with Elephant Man's disease, someone with Multiple Sclerosis, or someone who was 80 years old. 

The waiting for the test results was always the worst for me. At one point, I broke out in hives all over my body, including the bottoms of my feet. The stress was eating away at me. Yet, God was with me. When we were waiting for the last MRI result that would show if there was any degeneration or if Jack's brain had stayed the same, the neurologist was on vacation and we had to wait even longer. 

I remember driving to the post office during this waiting time and saying to God, "I don't believe in miracles anymore." That was it. That was all I said. As I put my money in the stamp machine with Ty in his infant carrier on the ground next to me, a nice looking older man came up to me and said, "What a miracle." I looked up at him in wonder. This is what he said to me as I stared blankly at him-

What a miracle! Your baby is such a miracle. You know, I didn't used to believe in miracles. But, when my daughter was just 24 weeks pregnant, her water broke. The doctor said to her that she would have to deliver the baby and it would not survive. She instead went home and asked people to pray for her. When she went back to the doctor, he said that her water bag had filled back up with fluid and that he had never seen or heard of that happening before. It was a miracle. They named her Kira Allison which in Greek means God have Mercy.

He looked up at me with tears streaming down his face and said, "That is why I now believe in miracles."

I was stunned.  I think all I did was smile with tears in my eyes. I wish I had said something so this man would know how God had used him in my life. It is a moment I will never forget. It is also the moment that I knew that Jack would be fine, healed, a functioning happy boy. He is now eight and healthy.

Back to my dad and the loss of his wife. Although, our prayers did not end with her physical healing as it did in Jack's case, there was a miracle in how my dad endured the pain of her illness and loss.  You see, he is this amazing man who totally trusted in God's steering of the ship of his life. He suffered greatly during Sherry's illness and ultimately her death. He stayed by her side, loving and caring for her amidst much agony. But, he never spoke with bitterness. Instead, he was daily trusting and grateful for what he had. 

Now he is blessed with an amazing new wife who did not take Sherry's place, but added to his life with such an abundance that he weeps when he speaks of how God has blessed him in his life.  It is clear that no matter our circumstances, we are to choose life, to live, to be. But, if we complain and look at all the negative, which he could have chosen to do, then we surely will miss out on what God has for us.

So, now I do believe in miracles. I have learned though that sometimes they come in our response, our choice to trust in God's plan, and our ability to be grateful. 

"Give thanks in all circumstances." 1 Thesselonians 5:18

Crazy Dog- Running in Circles!

This is how I feel sometimes when I have a million things to do...    like I am running around in circles like a maniac. 

She normally does get in trouble for this, but believe me it doesn't stop her. Do you think she might need someone to take her for a walk?

Please excuse the Darth Vader breathing in the background. It's not me! Really, it's some pregnant lady that has taken over my life.

Can Your Water Break From Coughing?

Apparently so! 

Don't worry, it didn't break. I have had a bad cough for a few months now and kept thinking it would go away. It hasn't. I went to my OB last Thursday. I told him that I wanted to make sure this cough was gone before my c-section on April 8th. The thought of coughing with an incision just doesn't sound fun. 

His response was, "We had better get you on some antibiotics and cough medicine. We don't want your water to break." I was like, "That can happen?" I mean, I know that coughing can make me pee (sorry if that is TMI), but I didn't ever think about my water breaking. He hadn't seemed concerned the last two appointments. Either he didn't notice or I wasn't far enough along for the water breakage to be a concern. 

In any event, I learned something new. At least it wasn't the hard way. 

Poop

We had a serious offense committed this morning in our home and the culprit is pictured below. It sort of looks like a mug shot, doesn't it? Her name is M.J. 

I woke up at 8:30 this morning and Ty was asleep between Jason and I, due to his habit of sneaking into our room in the middle of the night. My back was hurting and I wasn't feeling good so I got up to sneak around to the other side of the bed to tell Jason I would not be going to church. When I stood up, I saw some blurry (I didn't have my contacts in) brown spots all over the carpet. I didn't smell anything, but it became pretty clear that it was poop. I avoided stepping in several piles as I made my way to Jason's side and woke him with this, "I don't feel good so I am not going to church and M.J. pooped all over." He was delighted.

Now, there has been this deal in our marriage since we got our first dog. He is in charge of any dog poop. This is due to the fact that it makes me gag and dry heave. I thought maybe it would work for all poop situations, but as soon as we had kids, it became pretty clear that I was in charge of the majority of kid poop.  I must tell you that Jason is very helpful in all gross situations and doesn't leave me to fend for myself. 

I tried to reciprocate this morning by bringing up some paper towels, a rag, a trash bag and some Spot Shot. However, as I walked into the room I noticed (now with my glasses on) that there were three piles of normal poop and several piles of the D word. One was strategically placed right under where the door opens so there was no way to get out without scraping it across. I realized that I had done just that when I headed downstairs. As I approached him with the stuff, I immediately started gagging and dry heaving and ran out of the room, stepping in something as I ran out. I nearly hopped on one foot all the way down stairs so I could wash my foot in the sink, gagging the whole way. This was no easy feat at 8 and a half months pregnant. 

It took him about an hour to clean it all up. 

One blessing is that I have had a cold for about 2 months- FOR-EV-ER. My OB just put me on antibiotics. But, the great thing about it this morning was that I could not smell a thing or I am sure I would have puked. That would have been even worse for my cute husband.

Ty's Style Update #2

Here, Ty is wearing the fabulous Anakin Skywalker ensemble from Star Wars Clone Wars given to him by his Grammy. In the first shot, he has the outfit on while Grandpa models the mask. Ty looked at his Grandpa in the mask and said, "Grandpa, you are Santa Anakin."

Here he is in the complete outfit including the ever important light saber. The mask scares us all a little because his eyes are so real, but the expression never changes. I have to remind myself when we are dueling in the entryway with our light sabers that he is really smiling under there.

Fear- A Mother's Unwelcome Companion

There is a lot of history between me and this topic of fear so I am hoping to wrestle with it along side of you with clarity. I was browsing through some other blogs recently and found this treasure of a blog by a woman named Angie Smith called Bring the Rain. It is the story of her fourth daughter Audrey Caroline, who she was told at 20 weeks of pregnancy, would not survive. Audrey did not survive. The powerful thing about this blog is how Angie faced this incomprehensible outcome. She faced it in the way I hope I would be able to, but can in no way picture myself actually doing. Being pregnant now, it brought up fear in me, but it also brought up hope.

You see, before I had children I was fearless, perhaps reckless at times. I flew to Europe and backpacked around by myself, hitchhiked, had all my stuff stolen and one night slept in a train station. I also always wanted to be part of history. So, when after the Rodney King verdict came out and the L.A. riots started, I drove down to the center of it all to see what was happening. I ended up being in a group of people who were charged by the police and we all started running. I remember dropping my car keys in the middle of the melee and trying to find them with people stumbling over me. My friend found them and we made it to the parking lot where my car was parked. The little parking shack was on fire with my car close by. We got in and drove home to safety.  Those times were exciting, but rather stupid. I say this now from a mother's perspective. 

Then, as soon as I conceived Luke, fear rose up in me like never before. I prayed over him growing inside of me, begging the Lord for his complete health. I was terrified that this gift would be stolen from me. Since then I have spent countless minutes, hours, days in fear over my children's lives. It has been a very unwelcome companion. The "what if's" run wild in my mind. What if he isn't eating enough? What if his teeth rot? What if he gets kidnapped? What if someone molests him? What if his teacher thinks I am neglecting him because I have not cut his fingernails? What if he gets hit by a car? What if my husband gets in an accident today? What if I get cancer and can't be here to raise them? What if he suddenly gets autism at two? What if the baby is born blind or deaf? What if my baby dies of SIDS? What if my child gets cancer? What if the plane crashes? What if ? What if? What if? In the Beth Moore Bible Study I am doing right now on the Book of Esther, Beth brought up this exact point and it brought me to tears.

Can I tell you something? "What if?" is a thief.  I can be having a perfectly lovely day with no threat in sight and the "what if?" monster will come and steal my time, my peace and my joy and the loveliness of the day. I can go down the whole path of whatever the fear is and bring myself to tears in moments as if the "what if" had actually happened. 

Once when my sister and I were flying together to Mexico, the plane seemed to lurch downward. We looked at each other and said, "It's going down" and we were both in tears within seconds. Jason looked at me shaking his head and said, "We are descending." My friends, sometimes when things are descending, it does not mean they are crashing.

But what if things do crash? Then what? Then we walk through it with hope and friends close by our side and grace enough for each moment. I know this is easy to say, but my point is that we don't have the grace to walk through a circumstance unless the circumstance is happening. In the meantime, I refuse the let the "what if monster" steal the good moments I have now. 

I was privileged to go to Mommy's Day at Ty's preschool today. It is a day where the moms get to go for an hour to play. I say the word privileged with all sincerity because there was one mom who was not able to be there. I know her and I know it must have broken her heart. She is in the hospital where they are trying to get her organs strong enough so they can give her another dose of chemo. She is battling her second round of breast cancer. Please pray for this sweet mama who loves her daughter deeply. Her name is Michele. This woman is facing one of my greatest fears. The fear of leaving my children before I have raised them. Not that I don't think my husband would do a great job raising them, I just want with all my heart to be there for them through everything. 

I said in the beginning that Angie's story brought up fear in me, but that it also brought up hope. The reason it brought up hope is because Angie is alive, she is writing, she is surviving, she is giving, she still laughs and smiles and she is not on the ground in a heap or in a catatonic state even though she has lost a child. Some kind of grace must be carrying her!

Do you know what the most frequent command in the Bible is? Don't steal, don't sin, don't lie?None of these. The most frequent command is "Fear Not or Do Not Fear." Why is that? I think it is because God knows that fear is a thief and that it is a waste of our time. He also knows that when trouble does come, and it will, that He will carry us through it if we let Him.

I know that some of you may agree or disagree with my perspective on things, but this is who I am and it is part of my desire to be transparent. So, feel free to share your comments, experiences, disagreements with me because I want to hear your voice too. 

Sometime I'll share how I walked through one of my deepest fears when Jack was three, which is why I know that grace shows up just in time.  

By the way, don't even think for a second that I'm not thinking, "What if I write this and then have to walk through one of these "what ifs" as an example?" Be quiet, you silly monster, you are wasting my time. 

Three Weeks to Go til Baby!

There are very few pregnancy pictures of me this time. Actually, the only ones that existed until today are on my sister's camera. So, I took control and asked my son Luke (age 9) to take some pics of me. He did a very nice job, I think. He got Ty to do this- soooo sweet. 

I like how my butt is up against a dark background so you can see how big it is. I also like that I am looking down at Ty so you can't see my triple chin. Some recent comments from strangers-

Check out lady at Ralph's-"Wow, you are ready to pop girl" 

Same lady- "It is definitely a boy"

Person at church- "Are you sure there aren't twins in there?"

Woman at preschool- "Wow, you look tan. Where did you go?" 

This comment was due to the "mask of pregnancy" I get. The pigment on my face changes to brown. At least I look like I've been having fun.

Most common questions are:

 1) When are you due?   Answer- I am scheduled for a c-section on April 8th. I have realized that every one's birthday is in April. Very common month.

2) Do you know what you are having? Answer- No, I want it to be a surprise. This creates a lot of responses. Some people are irritated that I don't want to know and others love it. Most just decide that they know without a doubt what I am having. I wish I had taken a poll from the beginning, but right now it seems to be half and half. In the beginning it was all -"It is a boy." Then in the middle of my pregnancy, it was all- "It's a girl." I think this is because my rear end was widening. Now, I am getting a lot of boy guesses again. We will see in about three weeks.

I'm supposed to remember to go back and tell everyone who has made a prediction whether they were right or not. Hmmmm, not thinking that is going to happen!

Ty's Style Update

I am going to start posting photos called "Ty's Style Updates" because this dear child is a quick change artist who loves costumes of all types. He has been known to tear through drawers, hampers,  and attics to find the right outfit. This first one it quite a simple ensemble, but perfect for the coming week with St. Patty's Day.  I like the first photo because his expression is hilarious. He likes the second shot. His comment on this photo, "I like dis one cuz I'm making a tool face (cool he means)."

I Want To Kiss a Guy Named Jeff!

Jeff Kinney that is! He is the author of the Diary of the Wimpy Kid series and my nine year old has finally started enjoying reading because of his writing. So if I saw this wonderful man I would gladly fall at his feet and kiss his super smart feet. I have always loved reading and I am a former English major and English teacher so it was excruciating for me to hear Luke say, "I don't like reading" or "Do I have to read?"

The Diary of a Wimpy Kid had him hooked right away. He would lay on his bed and actually enjoy reading or stay in the bathroom until his legs fell asleep just to finish a chapter.  There are three in the series pictured below- Luke read all three in a row- and now there is a Do- It Yourself Diary that is blank for kids to fill in on their own. Brilliant- get them writing too! So Jeff, keep your eye out for me, I'm looking for a big smooch and I am sure I'm not alone.

  

Adventures with Boys

It's a minimum day. Very pregnant me and five boys ages- 4,8,9,12 and 12(my sister's twins) walk into this new place in town called the "Golf and Grill." From the name, you would think hamburgers, hot dogs, fries. But no, this place has Mongolian Barbecue-yummy! Yes, we turn heads as we walk into the restaurant. Sadly, heads turn not for the reason that they used to. I know people think I'm crazy. I want a sign around my neck that says, "They aren't all mine." Honestly, I really don't care what people think. 

Upstairs, they have Mongolian barbecue, frozen yogurt, pizza and espresso. They didn't want to leave anything out that someone might want. It 's kind of like the restaurants that combine Chinese food and doughnuts- strange! Downstairs they have a small nine hole miniature golf course. The kids think that this is the greatest thing. 

So we start out upstairs and I buy bowls for each child, except Ty. I will share with him.  You have to go through the line and pick out your ingredients (smash the meat down so you get more) and then they cook it all for you and add some noodles. I am at the back of the line and I'm filling my bowl. I look over at the boys' bowls to see how they are doing. First, they have spilled many toppings on the counter. I ask for a napkin and clean it up. Second, I notice a large heaping of something red on top of Jack's (8) bowl. I walk up and realize it is chili sauce. He has put like six heaping spoonfuls on. I explain to him that it is extremely spicy. The cook gets a spoon and scoops as much as he can off of it. I then get a napkin and try to get the rest off. I look over at Chase's (12) bowl. He has about three heaping spoonfuls on his. I say, "Do you like it really spicy?" He reassures me that he does. I look doubtful and so does the cook, but he is twelve and his dad likes spicy food so I give him the benefit of the doubt. A large group of people come in and stand in line behind us. I send the boys outside with their food and drinks. 

While I wait for my food to cook, Ty comes back in with a large empty cup. "Mom, I spiwwed my wemonade.... and its dwipping." I take the cup, "Okay, I'll be out in a minute." A woman says to me, "Can I help you?" I smile and say, "No thanks." I go outside and indeed the lemonade is everywhere on the patio, dwipping off the chair and over the edge, down to the golf course. I put the chair to the side and get him a new one. I sit down to eat and look up at Chase and Jack. They are drinking their drinks like there is no tomorrow and look miserable. "Too spicy?" I say. They both nod their heads. Their mouths are burning and they have chapped lips so their lips are on fire. This was not a cheap meal and now I am slightly irritated, but I don't say anything- natural consequences. Chase goes up and tells the owner that their food is too spicy. He graciously brings out two pieces of pizza for the boys. I see his eyes go to the spilled lemonade. I had planned on telling him about it, but they'd looked so busy. "Sorry about that, " I say and smile. He is very kind and brings back a mop and puts up a yellow caution sign. I wonder if it has a double meaning.

As Wes, Luke and I eat, we notice that our food is spicier than usual. Our mouths are burning a little bit too. Jack and Chase's were cooked first and it seems we got remnants of chili sauce in ours. It is still good. The boys finish up. Chase heads in to refill his coke and comes back out to the table. He picks up some trash and then the grand finale- his newly filled cup flies into the air and crashes on the chair, spilling in the exact same spot the lemonade had minutes earlier. This time it hits the caution sign on its way to the floor. I say, "Chase, go get the mop." We now know where it is. Chase cheerfully mops it up. The owner sees him and says, "Kid, what are you doing?" I explain what happened and joke that maybe Chase can get a job. He makes some comment about it being Friday, the 13th. Now, I am not superstitious, but I do believe in the havoc boys can wreak when they come in numbers. I ask if I can keep the caution sign.

They golf with no further incident.

Dora Gets a Makeover- Swiper No Swiping

I was in bed last night and actually awake for the news due to the time change, when a story that had nothing to do with the economy, a shooting or the Octumom came on. It was a story about Dora, Dora, Dora the Explorer. My ears perked up. It seems that Dora is getting a makeover. 

 

I do not have girls, but this show was Ty's absolute favorite, refused to watch anything else, show for about a year. When he was two, I found him in front of his closet door saying over and over, "abre, abre" which is open in Spanish. He had learned this from our dear Dora. I have pictured her below. I love that she is so innocent and that her toddler belly hangs out a little bit, not sexy style like some of the other characters we see on Nick and Disney channel. This is a preschool age level show and I find her image appropriate. 

The story on the news indicated that the marketing machine has discovered that Dora's image could be made more lucrative by giving her an upgrade.  They released the silhouette below to show what her new makeover will look like. I know that we are an image obsessed culture and that we are really into makeovers, but come on, this is a show for young children. Below you will see Dora grown up.

I have to say that she certainly does look pretty, but does she look like the children the show is written for? Does she look like a preschool kid? The argument given by the producers is that she needs to grow with her audience to keep their attention. I hate to break it to them, but this is not going to work. They need to realize that as children get into elementary school, Dora will not be able to compete with Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers, Drake and Josh, or any of the other shows geared toward that elementary school age group. Unless, of course, they completely leave their preschool audience behind and re-create the show to gear it toward an older audience. There is only so much of "backpack, backpack" and "swiper no swiping" and the repeated lessons that older kids can endure. 

 

So I say, leave cute little Dora alone. Don't mess with what is working. We already have enough images of young girls who look like this in the media. As Dora is now, she nearly stands alone as a realistic representation of a child. I see swiper peeking his head around the tree ready to snatch her, so in unison let's say, "SWIPER NO SWIPING."

Natural Consequences

One of the big stories in the news has been this woman in California named Nadya Suleman, who after already having 6 children, just delivered octuplets. All of her pregnancies were conceived via infertility treatments with no dad in sight. She has now gained a nickname in the media- The Octumom. If you haven't heard of her, you have been living in a cave somewhere in Kalamazoo. (I don't even know if Kalamazoo has caves). Anyway, this woman has been vilified in the news media. 

 

Every news station is covering this story and they have all made her into a monster. I realize that she does give everyone a lot to talk about with the 911 calls, the house going into foreclosure, her refusal of help, her arguments with her mother and the small fact that she now has 14 children, 8 of them newborns.  I also believe this woman has serious issues and I completely disagree with her decision. However, I can't help but have a little compassion for her. I know I am in the minority here.

 

You see, I believe in natural consequences. I use it a lot in my parenting. For example, if I tell my kids to bring a jacket or put a jacket on and they argue or fight me on it, I let it go. If they don't listen to me, the natural consequence is that they are cold and will learn to listen next time.   If they cause us to be late to school in the morning, I refuse to write a note. The natural consequence is that they have to go into the office and get a tardy slip to take to class. That scares the bejeebees out of them so they are ready to go on time. 

 

There is something scary about natural consequences once children start heading into the teen years. By this point, you want them to get that there are natural consequences that you cannot protect them from. For example, the natural consequence to drinking and driving or using drugs is serious damage to their lives and possibly death. The natural consequence to sex can be an unwanted pregnancy or an STD. You get what I am talking about- this is what our high school Traffic, Health and Guidance classes were all about. Do you remember those gory drunk driving films they showed us? NATURAL CONSEQUENCES. 

 

Natural consequences are scary even as we age. We eat too much or eat unhealthy food- natural consequence is we get fat. We exercise too little- natural consequence is we age faster and can't go very far without getting winded. We tell lies-  natural consequence is people don't trust us.  This is why I tell my kids the story of the boy who cried wolf- sometimes you really need people to trust and believe you. You scam a bunch of people out of their hard earned money (Madoff) and natural consequence-you go to jail. 

 

So what does this all have to do with the Octumom? Well, the way I see it, she has some serious natural consequences coming her way. Eight of them to be exact. Not that I don't think every child is a blessing, but even dealing with one newborn can be overwhelming. She also has to be dealing with some major hormonal upheaval in her body. And she already has six kids and no husband to help her. I cannot even fathom what this looks like in a home. I mean how do you feed them all, or take them all to the grocery store or go anywhere for that matter as a family? I just keep picturing all of those car seats. 

 

 So does she really need all of the media attention and criticism to make her realize that she made some really poor choices? I don't think so. I think she will be dealing with the natural consequences of her actions for a long time coming. My prayer is that her children will not have to suffer the consequences of her actions along with her. I hope she realizes that she does not have to try to be some supermom and prove everyone wrong because there is no way anyone could raise those children alone. You see, none of us can do it alone. But, if she doesn't, just know that the natural consequences will eventually get the best of her. They always do!

Drop Off Birthday Parties ROCK!

Jack turned eight last week. I asked him about a month ago what he wanted to do for his birthday. He wanted to go to Disneyland. As much as I love Disneyland, I had no desire to walk around the lovely park 8 months pregnant. So I suggested that we have an "almost sleepover party." Many people thought that this sounded even crazier than going to Disneyland. The party was on a Friday night from 3:30pm - 10pm. We had a total of 10 boys including my three. The parents dropped them off for six and a half hours. You are thinking this sounds like torture. It was fabulous. I never want to have parents come to a birthday party again. That does not sound very nice, but I have to tell you that this party was fun and -EASY! The kids entertain each other and I could focus on them because I wasn't entertaining their parents. Here is how the night went- 

1) Jason and I drove them over to Buff Buddies in La Canada. They played dodge ball, and ran around and got sweaty for an hour. (The purpose was to wear them out a bit) 

2) We picked up the pizza on the way home and  served it with chips, grapes and carrots for dinner. They were so happy, all around a big table and ate everything up, even the carrots.  I served soda. We only had one spill! Not too shabby.

3) We played games- I've got pictures below

Silly String War!!!!!!!!!! Here is my nephew Chase.

And here is Luke...... this was of course played in the driveway. Then Jason had this brilliant idea of having them try to make a big ball out of the string on the driveway. They loved it and picked up the mess!
The next game required bowls, whipped cream (buy 3 cans for 10 kids) and bubble gum. The kids had to put their arms behind their backs, put their faces in a bowl of whipped cream and try to find the gum with their mouths. The first one to blow a bubble won. I had picked up some prizes from Big Lots. Here is what Jack looked like after the game. He loved it.
Next Game- Easter Egg hunt, but with candy filled basketball and baseball shaped eggs. The key to this game was that the "eggs" were hidden outside in the dark. I bought some flashlights at Big Lots for $2 each with working batteries for each child and wrote their names on them. These were their party favors. My nephews hid the eggs for me- such good little helpers. You can see Weston in the bottom picture hiding them. My sister came up with the brilliant idea of writing the boys' names on the eggs so the game would not be over in 2 seconds. They had to find the 7 eggs with their names on them. They were not allowed to tell when they found someone else's egg. There were also two "Special Prize Eggs" to find. If they found a prize egg, they got to pick a prize. They were so cute walking around the yard with their flashlights searching for their eggs. Here is Ty with his bag, flashlight and egg below.

After the games, the kids came in and we sang HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JACK! The boys got to make their own sundae's to have with their cake. Then, Jack opened his presents. The kids loved watching him because it doesn't happen at many birthday parties anymore.

It was now 8:30pm. On the invitation, I had suggested they bring a blanket and pillow. The kids got their stuff and found a comfy spot in front of the TV. We then put on the movie, Kung Fu Panda in surround sound and turned off the lights. They were so good. They sat and laughed hysterically throughout the whole movie. Jason and I cleaned up everything and I sat at my computer answering e-mails while the kids watched. Only a few moved to come ask for a drink. It was great. The movie ended right at 10pm and the parents showed up to pick them up. Perfecto! 

So for those of you with little ones who are exhausted after your three or four-year old's party, just know that someday, your kids will get bigger,the drop- off party will be an option and you will see that it wasn't the kids that made the party so exhausting after all!

BOOM- Awake At Two AM!

I had trouble getting to sleep last night. I have a lot of volunteer type stuff I'm signed up for right now and I was trying to make sure I am remembering everything. Spring is always like this. Anyway, I finally get to sleep and about an hour later I hear a door slam. I know it is Ty coming down the hall. He enters our room and BOOM-slams our bedroom door! He then starts to climb into our bed then retreats and heads for our bathroom. I hear him coughing. I wait. He turns the bathroom light- on, off, on ,off on again. BOOM- Slams the bathroom door. He goes to the bathroom, flushes (hooray!) and comes toward the bed. Although I was trying to pretend I was still asleep, at this point I have to say something because he has left the bathroom light on. Groggy old lady voice, "Ty, the light." He turns around and turns the light- off, on ,off. He climbs in bed between Jason and I. Cough, cough, cough, cough, knee in my back, cough, cough, elbow in my back, baby kicking and awake now inside me, cough, cough. Now, I have to get up and get some medicine for him or none of us will sleep. Groggy old lady voice. "I am going to get you some medicine, stay in bed." I get up and head for the bathroom. As soon as I'm up, I  have to go to the potty. I sit down-relief! Then I stand up and feel a wet sensation on my bottom. Ty had not lifted the seat so now I have his pee all over me- YUCK!  You have got to be kidding. I grab the first thing I see and dry myself off.  I hang it back up then realize it is Jason's hand towel- you know, the one he dries his hands on and wipes his face on after he brushes his teeth. I grab it and throw it on the ground. Towel on ground in our house is the inter-familial signal that you don't want to touch it- it either has throw-up, snot, poop or pee on it. I laugh a little to myself at this point thinking how funny it might have been if I had been so out of it that I had actually left it hung there. But, I can't do this knowingly. I find the medicine, walk back to the bed, give some to Ty and climb in bed. I actually get to sleep until 6:30am. Please know that at one point, somewhere before two kids, when sleep wasn't like gold, I would have taken a shower or a sponge bath to clean off. But now I am way beyond thinking this is gross. I have seen too much!

Parenting Tip on Preventing Complaining

Since I spent my last post complaining, I thought I would mention a parenting tip on how to prevent incessant complaining in your child. It really annoys me when my kids complain because they have everything they need. The complaints usually sound something like this- I don't like this food, I don't want to read, this is gross, I'm not going to eat it, why can't we ever go to the movies, we never get to go anywhere, I'm bored, other kids get to watch PG-13 movies, I don't have any clean socks to wear (this is sometimes a valid complaint), I never get to watch TV. 

  Nothing drives me crazier than when my kids are totally focused on themselves. This was especially a problem a few years ago with my oldest, Luke. It was never just one complaint, but a litany. He is really good at it. Listening to complaining is very draining and I have little tolerance for Negative Nellies. Before I knew it, I would be furious and with fire coming out of my eyes, I would give him a whole lecture on how he was so blessed with food and clothing and shelter and nice parents (most of the time) and ...... EVERYTHING! I would be prepared to drive him down to the mission in downtown LA to show him the children who actually  have the right to complain. My other idea was to take everything away from him so that he would actually have something to complain about. But, although my dramatic responses did have some effect, it was not what was needed in this situation. 

After praying about it, I was given a nugget of wisdom. The idea was to have him do some physical action every time he complained so he would be aware that he was complaining. I think it had become a habit that he was not really aware of. So every time he complained, he would have to walk up and down the stairs and if he complained about having to walk up and down the stairs, then he would have to do it again. It was great because it took my emotional response out of the equation. It took less than a week to stop the complaining. Every once in a while, he will slip back into it, but a couple trips up and down the stairs will remind him of his behavior. Sometimes a simple solution is the best solution.

The only problem is that every once in a while I will be talking to an adult and have the urge to say, "Up and down those stairs!"

My Armpits Are Brown

  I think that I officially want my body back. Although I know that this is my last time being pregnant and I will miss the stirring and kicking of this little life inside of me, this baby has taken over my entire body. I really shouldn't complain because, unlike many women, I have extremely easy pregnancies. But I am going to anyway. 

My belly is huge right now. People have started asking me, "are you sure there aren't twins in there?" and I have even gotten a few "there aren't eight in there, are there?" This, of course, due to the Octomom. But still, come on people. I still have five weeks left. I am waddling like a duck and it nearly takes a crane to get me off of the couch. Luckily, Jason is strong enough to pull me up. I also have the very predictable problem of not being able to find a comfortable sleeping position and when I cough or sneeze, well........ I just can't make it to the potty fast enough.

 But now, this baby has taken over a part of my body that I never would have suspected- MY ARMPITS! For about three weeks I kept showering, doing my normal routine which includes shaving my pits and then getting out and putting on deodorant. At this point, I would look at my armpits and think,  "I have a five o'clock shadow under there. I need to buy a new razor." Until one day, Jason was in the bathroom with me when I lifted my arms and he said, "Let me see that. Put your arms up again." Then he said, "Wow, that's sexy." I was like,  "What the five o'clock shadow!" He said, "No, they are brown like the line on your belly." He was of course referring to the Linea Negra (this is the technical term), the brown line that goes down the center of my belly when I am pregnant. I actually don't know how many other people get this. There is also the "mask of pregnancy" which is brown spots on my forehead and cheeks. So this pregnancy pigment change has also gone to my armpits. Well, at least they aren't hairy. And at least my husband thinks it is sexy. He wasn't being sarcastic!

So I wonder what is next. My nose normally swells up to the point where I think I need a nose job, but I think it isn't as bad this pregnancy. This could be wishful thinking though. Maybe my ears will swell or turn brown- I think this is the only thing left for this pregnancy to mess with.