Don't Mess With Mama

Definition of bully

plural bullies

1 a :a blustering, browbeating person; especially :one who is habitually cruel, insulting, or threatening to others who are weaker, smaller, or in some way vulnerable

• tormented by the neighborhood bully

I'm beginning to think that being bullied is a curse that has run through my bloodline. My Mom was introduced to fighting in defense when bullies picked on her and her siblings. I went to public school from pre-k to 3rd grade and was told that if I stayed in the system any longer, my mother would have to teach me to fight as well. What she didn't know, is that 3rd grade was when I learned to fight psychologically. But you get the point. Looking back, my Mom had all these stories of confrontations that made me feel like she truly was a Wonder Woman. Physically, I'm not the strongest, but mentally, I will break you. Now, as a mom, I'm having to watch my own kids deal with bullying. But today... Oh no. Today, it went a step too far. What happened? My son was hit in the leg with a cell phone. Hard enough to leave a mark. We will see what the school has to say about it in the morning since it was too late for them to contact me back after my kids got home.

As a parent, you never want to have your kids fall prey to a bully. You also don't want them to become a bully. As a Christian, we learn that we are to turn the other cheek and let God punish our enemies. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." The Golden Rule. And we teach it well in our house. But... I won't let my children get beat up. Not any more. Verbal abuse is one thing. I'm teaching my kids to handle that with positivism. So how do we combat the physical abuse? 

My kids look up to me for not being afraid. After all, they watched me stand up against the physical abuse their father put me through before the divorce. I shielded them, protected them and took the force upon myself. But I can't do that on the bus or in the school hallways. And though we have been in contact with the school, it seems to be escalating now. Before, they were throwing accusations and screaming profanities at my children. Then one of them laid his hands on my daughter and I took to arms with the vice principal. They went back to verbal abuse and I told my kids to pretend that those bullies didn't exist. Focus on something or someone else and shut their mind to the words that were meant to hurt them. But you can't do that with a physical attack. 

So what am I to do? Well, my first move is to escalate the response from the school itself. I won't take a, "Well..." answer. Depending on their response, I just might have to teach my children self defense. Don't get me wrong, I won't have them pummeling everyone who crosses their paths. However, learning to block someone is a great skill to have. Learning to bob and weave. To keep your fists at eye level. And if that's not enough, then maybe we will introduce something more. We are blessed with long legs. Powerful ones. I can attest to the damage they are capable of causing when there is need for it. But only as a last result. And only when politely requesting they back off doesn't work.

Mama don't play. And she doesn't just sit there wrapping a wound with a sweet, "I'm sorry, but this is just the way it is." My kids are not going to be victims to someone else's brats. Not anymore. 

How would you address something like this?

And there were lice...

We have had a wonderful summer. Hard to believe it's coming to an end already. Monday is when my kids head back to school. With that being the case, I decided to get in as much fun as we can before then. Today, we went shopping. We did some crafts. And then, we went to the mall. While at the mall, my husband and I noticed our older daughter scratching the mess out of her head. She was really going at it. And when I asked her about it, she replied that part of her head just itched a lot. 

I don't know about you, but I grew up with very long and thick hair. When I was in public school, my hair was touched often by a lot of hands... And I came home with lice often. So often, that my dad even threatened to shave me bald. All of my stuffed toys, even one that I treasured, were tossed out. Bedding was stripped and washed. And I went through the long night of Rid in my hair while my mother combed through it with that sharp, fine-toothed comb. Far too often. My mother said it was about every two weeks. And I hated it! 

So you can imagine the dread I felt when I thought, please don't let it be lice! I told myself that maybe she was just sweaty. Maybe she hasn't been washing her hair too well. Can't shake a Mother's wisdom though. We got home and the purging began right after dinner. 

I started by looking through her hair. If you don't know, the sides of the head close to the ears, slightly above and the base of the head at the neck are the two spots usually affected by lice the most. I checked the base first. And boy was I shocked. She had eggs, or nits, EVERYWHERE! I grabbed the bottle of Rid I had from the last time we had to deal with them and got to work. We boiled water to dip the comb in after each stroke through her hair. They don't like heat. Like serious heat. So washing bedding and drying it in heat kills them on bedding, clothes and stuffed toys. Dipped the brush and combs into boiling water also kills them. Otherwise, they will maintain a tight grip. I call it the death grip. The eggs are attached to strands of hair in the same way. It takes a very fine comb to get them off. That's why you have to use the Rid version that comes with the special shampoo. 

The shampoo has an awful smell and goes on dry hair. You douse every inch of it and rub it onto the scalp. Then you take the comb and go over each hair pulling everything out. 

I think it took me at least 2 hours. Plus, I had to cut her beautiful hair. She had long locks that went down to the bottom of her back. Now her hair is right at her shoulders. She looks adorable, but still. As a Mother, I want to spare her from this. I mean, honestly! How did she get them when she hasn't been at school? We haven't been out much. And she is the only one that had them. I checked the boys and the baby. Nothing. I ran the comb through my own hair and only found a ton of dandruff. My scalp is dryer than the Sahara right now... So where is this coming from?? I told her that she must wash her hair. We went over the proper way to wash it (again). I explained the importance of it. And she cried. No one likes having this happen. Her brothers shied away from her when she got close. I helped her wash out the Rid and then I checked her head again. Can you believe that there was more? I had to comb through her locks once again. Pulled out more eggs and more lice. Thus, I started my tasks all over again. 

While dealing with her, I also had a load of her bedding running on the sanitizing option in the wash. I have about 2-3 other loads to follow tomorrow. My boys were cleaning up their room, picking up toys in the living room, and taking turns helping with the baby who was so tired - that she just wanted to scream at us. My husband was trying to get some sleep before work. I have a dishwasher to empty in the morning, a load in the sink needing to be done, and will have to check her hair again. I'll wash it one more time to be sure. It feels like I'm standing before a mountain of chores. All of them needing to be done. And none of them appealing to me right now. The good news is, this is happening before school starts. I would not want to be in this mess during school days... 

A word to the wise, if you see them scratching - get checking! 

Swim Suit for the Mom Bod

I'm no longer eager to play dress up in the fitting rooms and test out styles. Okay. Correction. I was never fond of clothes shopping.
Swim suits are the most difficult. Followed closely by pants. I feel awkward. Which translates to me thinking I look awkward too. It takes forever to find something that accentuates my curves satisfactorily. Everything is typically too loose/tight in the waist, but perfect length. Or too short. I usually have my kids in tow as well. They don't like waiting for mommy to try on clothes. Its considered boring. And now that I have quite the mom bod going on, these things are intensified. I'm not so well toned. Or tanned. Not like I used to be. My hips and thighs need toning, my belly is flabby with an extra 30 lbs that needs to go. But the most I seem able to do is sit ups in bed and squats while holding the baby and trying to bounce her to sleep. 

Let me just explain something before any of you decide to go heavyweight on me about size. I don't think of this as beautiful:

Or even this:

I'm sorry, but that is just ugly. Someone please donate cellulite to fix what they are missing. And I'm not just referring to a lack of cleavage. Ribs are showing. Angles are pointy. That is not beautiful. That is emaciation. However, I don't think of this as pretty either:

This and larger is a death wish, no matter who you are. It's one reason I couldn't stand Mama June.

They used her gross obesity and lack of good manners from her and her daughter to turn them into celebrities. That, to me, is a gross way to entertain. 

I believe that women are beautiful in their own way. Size doesn't matter, so long as you are healthy and happy for yourself. The above examples are sitting on the extreme ends of the spectrum. Everyone else has their place in between. I look at all the women I know and think each of them are beautiful. I don't judge them at all. 

So where am I going with this? I don't feel beautiful. I'm 5'10" (ish - the scoliosis and spinal deterioration might have shortened me a little), and weigh in at 170-ish pounds. I wear a Large now. I'm the girl who was forever tall and lanky. My friends joked about setting up a fat bank to donate to me so I could have curves. My best attribute was a toss up between my long legs and my eyes. Everything else was flat and sharp. Then I had kids. I started to soften up. My rock hard abs went, came and went again in between pregnancies. I worked out and started eating less. Not so much healthy, just less. Now I'm nearly 30, have 4 children, and am 30 pounds over my healthy weight. My OCD screams at me when I sit and the side that is most crumpled from curvature in the spine has rolls. I look down and there is a roundness in the belly that makes my filter-less children ask if I'm having another baby or just fat. My reply, "I'm just fat." I don't want to be a super model. I don't want to look like a celebrity. I just want to lose 30 pounds and flatten the stomach a bit. Thanks to the back pain, as well as my age catching up to me, I'm finding that is easier said than done! I put off getting new clothes because I believed that I could get back into my pre-pregnancy clothes by the time my daughter turns 1. She's 8 months and I haven't lost a single pound... *head slap here* 

What am I to do? Well, I'm setting new rules. I'm moving to plan B. I've told my husband how I feel. I'm getting him to realize that even though I love the fact he will always see me as beautiful, regardless of how I look, I need the support to lose the unhealthy weight. He has been very good at it! We make fresh smoothies almost every day. I've been buying healthy snacks. We gave up Pop Tarts and Doritos. I stopped buying cinnamon rolls, except for a once-in-a-blue-moon breakfast treat for the kids only. Laying off the pizza and cooking more foods that incorporate veggies. Cookies or ice cream are for special treats only. And are mostly given to the kids. Which reminds me... Side note: we tried a couple new ones. Hostess Twinkie version and Halo Top chocolate.

Can you believe that both were not to the adults liking, but the kids seemed to think they were okay? The Twinkie one tasted like birthday cake and the Chocolate one... tasted awful. Bland. Sugarless maybe? I barely withstood one spoon. Gave it all to the kids. They didn't seem to mind it. So much for the "better for you" ice cream. Its a lie! Guilt-free zone? Only because you are eating tasteless ice shavings.

Back to my journey of losing weight. I've been eating more salads. And to make them interesting, we added chicken. The one we really enjoyed was chicken cooked in balsamic dressing. It makes eating salads easier for my husband. He's not big on the greens. 

We drink lots of water. Doing these things has made me feel better about myself. Then I checked the scale. Nothing. My husband weighs himself. Guess who lost 10 pounds? Uh huh. Then came a real test. With summer, comes the possibility of pool time or river fun. I had to get a swim suit for my 4 year old daughter and who else? Yes, me. I no longer fit into the ones I had. One of them hadn't been used in so long that the straps dry rotted. Who knew they could do that?! So the mom who hates shopping for clothes, let alone a bathing suit, heads to Wally World. All 4 kids in tow while my husband sleeps off a night of working. You know how much I dreaded trying them on? And there weren't many left to choose from. Its so late in the season, they had the crappy ones no one wants anymore. 

I finally came across this two piece set.

I love the color. Its light weight. And the design was decent. I tried it on. But the fitting rooms don't have mirrors inside. What is wrong with that store?! No, you have to walk outside the dressing room to the corner where the sales floor starts to use a full-length mirror. This is where my children were stationed and waiting for me. The lady attending the fitting station gave me the look over as I came out. I was asking my kids what they thought. She says, "Lady, with 4 kids, you look amazing! I've seen women come in here with no kids, looking terrible and fat. You got it, so flaunt it, honey!" Walmart is not known for its amazing customer service. They are known for having Wal-Martians. People who look so awful, there is a website dedicated to pictures of them. People who shouldn't be allowed to leave their homes. Don't believe me? Look at this website and try not to wet yourself laughing or be careful. You might want to bleach your eyes at some of them.  So to have her so openly complimenting me, gave me courage that I do have some of my good looks left.

Another way I find myself being reminded that I'm still pretty high on the hotness scale, would be the fact that my husband still gets excited when he catches me undressing. If you are in a relationship and don't have that kind of romance, I feel sorry for you. Doesn't matter how old you are. It's great having that physical attraction. I even put on the lingerie that was given to me at the bridal shower. As my mother-in-law said, sometimes it's good to just feel pretty in them.

Now don't get me wrong, I've accepted and even embraced my Mom Bod. I have better defined hips and a bigger booty. And I love it. Heck, as of right now, I can actually say I have boobs. I just can't stand a muffin top. Or a spare tire. It drives me insane. Especially when I work out as often as I can. Just holding my daughter and doing squats while trying to get her to sleep is a workout.

So here goes. I'm embarking on a new trend. I'm going to love my Large(r) self. I'm going to teach myself to see it as beautiful. I won't give up on my desire to lose the extra pounds. I need that for my back issues. But I'm going to start investing in bigger clothes. Its time to get out of the rut of wearing the same handful of t-shirts and 2 skirts. I bought a skort and pair of shorts for the summer. I'm finding a style that will flatter my curves a little more. And I'm going to "flaunt it"!

The volcano in the diaper

This morning had a scene that could've been pulled from slapstick comedy. Baby girl had had quite the diaper dilemma. As my title reveals, her rear end turned into a volcano that erupted to the point of diaper failure. As the smell reached me, I grabbed a new diaper and wipes thinking I'd do a quick change. But she had a huge surprise awaiting me. I pulled her single-handedly from the walker she so happily was enjoying and did a Mom maneuver that would put me Indian-style on the floor with her on my leg and diaper and wipes on the floor next to us. It was at this point that I realized she felt a little wet. I thought she had spit up her bottle again and that it had gotten on her leg. But as I looked down, while shifting her to the prone position  on the new rug in front of me, I noticed the color of digested greens all over her feet. My eyes took in the full spectrum of the mess. It was on her feet, legs, her clothes, my pants, my foot, the walker, and a lovely, large pile on the floor. Now we just bought this rug using funds gifted to us by his sister for our wedding present. And of all places to leak, she did so on the white part of the red, gray and white patterned rug.
From that moment on, was a comedic series of events. My husband was dumbfounded as he came to see why I was suddenly calling out the baby's name in surprise. He told me to tell him what to do because he was at a loss. At this point is when my brain kicked in again and I was able to formulate a strategy to battle the mess. I told him to grab a bag. I immobilized the baby and starting cleaning her up a bit. I had him scooping up what he could and dumping it into the bag. Then came the time to spray and scrub the floor. I told him a bath was required for this level of dirtiness. To spray the spot heavily and I would get to it when I finished cleaning the baby up. Especially since he had just gotten home from working over night and needed to eat before heading to bed.
He of course took it on by himself though. I got in the tub and commenced scrubbing feces from myself and the little lady. I called for his assistance and he told me the rug might need to be thrown out. 
"Is it not coming out with the cleaner?", I queried.
"I don't have high hopes." Not the answer I was hoping to hear. I paid good money for our rug. I liked that rug. I wasn't willing to scrap it at the first accident. Then I start questioning him about how bad it really was and came to find that it wasn't entirely the fact there was a slight stain left. It was because of what had caused the stain that left him feeling uneasy about the continued use of the rug. 
So typical of a new dad! Or of a man in general. The thought that crap was on the rug, bothered him more than the fact that there was a slight stain. The latter bugs me, because I'm OCD about stuff like that. Its at this point, though, that I start laughing. And I inform him that I'm not throwing it away just like that. I will do what I can to get rid of the stain and that he will have to get used to bodily fluids that can leave stains. After all. We have a 7 month old baby. She will make messes. And he will come to find that unless he has an endless supply of money flowing, you have to get over it. 
After finally getting her cleaned up, we checked the rug. Yes, there is a slightly darker shade on part of the rug.

Its clean though! After all that, she ended up throwing up on the rug repeatedly throughout the day. It won't remain pristine. Nothing does when you have kids. Why else do I tell him often, "This is why parents can't have nice things!" But its worth the hassle. We do what we do for our babies. No matter the mess. No matter the frustration. No matter the smells, sights, and exhaustion that accompany them. We do all from unconditional love. 
Now that I have shared, I'm curious. How many of you have such stories or experiences you have gone through?

A follow up to a previous situation

I had written about starting up a Go Fund Me for hiring a lawyer and seeking full custody of my children. After reading a comment to that post, I have decided to follow up on what happened to that end. 

I started up the fundraiser and a dear friend of mine made a considerably large donation. The gratitude I felt was tremendous. I didn't even think I would get the amount she had donated, let alone more. Call it an empty hope created by desperation. I have learned, however, that God moves in mysterious ways. So after receiving that amount, I called up someone that I was given high recommendations to. This person was previously a lawyer and the best when it came to family cases. What I hoped for was a weight to be lifted from my shoulders. What was returned to me instead was a blow to my dreams. He is now a mediator who works to find middle ground for those in legal disputes. He also refers you to the best in the business depending on your needs. He explains the law and what options you have. My options are not just limited. They are singular. The state of Texas protects the accused in some ways, more than the victims. I should've known this. After all, I've been involved in a case where I interpreted for a friend whose illegal deaf wife tried to kill him in his sleep, with his children present and witnessing, and she not only got out of being deported (despite those who knew her pushing for that option), but she also got out of jail and was given primary custody of the kids. If that is possible, how much more so a guy keeping his rights when he does things morally wrong with or to his children? 
The legal advice I received knocked me down a peg and put me in the cloud cover of doubting my ability to be the Mom I need to be. I was told that the State would not easily give full custody to one parent over the other, if at all. They will exhaust other options, and funding, to keep both parents in the children's lives. Even fighting for supervised visits with the documentation I have would cost me in the neighborhood of $10,000. And that's just a start. Instead, I was told to document every instance in a journal. Make sure my kids tell me everything. Make sure they can reach me no matter what time or where while with him. And to pray that nothing bad happens. I have since filed an additional report with Child Protective Services. They began an investigation, but I was told that the situation fell into a slightly gray area. So they would reach out to my ex-husband and inform that certain actions are from here on, prohibited. Should anything happen again, they will look further into supervised visitation rights. As for the kids being left alone or unsupervised at the theme park, that isn't considered a bad thing that they will investigate until one of them is severely injured, kidnapped, or worse. So the training of them knowing exactly how to respond to strangers, dangerous situations, or being in a moment of feeling uncomfortable about something has taken on an urgent tone. We talk about it often. My daughter knows to yell to her brothers for assistance if her father refuses to listen to her. I choose to think that I have scared him enough with my words and actions that he will back away from ever making such choices again. 
The campaign I had started, was removed. The money I had received was returned to my donors. I am focusing on doing what I can to make them safe as much as possible. I also pray that God's will be done and that I have strength to accept what I cannot control. Its a hard way to live. Its a struggle that I have to endure. May it be known, however, that I will not seek a way into the loophole I have been made aware of. I will stay ready for the moment when I can finally have them safe and be done with him. I have expressed to them and to him, that they have the ability to call me any time for any reason. I send snacks and food as I'm able to ensure they are well fed. I also feed them before they leave and upon returning to me. 
I love them dearly. I may not have made all the right choices. I may still be learning from the decisions and outcomes I have been through, but I keep pushing forward. I will always do my best for them.

Pains of motherhood

Today was the day. The day my younger son went under for a procedure meant to save his hearing. About a month or so ago, we took him in for a hearing check up when he didn't pass the one his pediatrician did. They found that he had a hard build up in front of his ear drums that prevented him from hearing well. His education was suffering as a result. So the specialist recommended that we try to remove the blockage.
As a mother, I balked at the suggestion. Even though it's outpatient, there are risks. But it had to be done.

I didn't put much thought to it until the day of. I wanted to stay positive. He acted a little frightened when we talked about it the night before. His attitude has been a resilient one though. My little trooper! I find I get strength from him. My stomach twists in knots, but I continued to make jokes and offer him encouragement throughout the process of paperwork and questions. We joked about wearing matching bracelets.

And about what food we will eat when we leave. My poor guy hadn't eaten since dinner last night around 5:30 pm. So he was starving!
When we went to the back, we had Nurse Rose. She was so sweet. Gave  me a warm blanket (I'm a popsicle) and gave him some crayons and coloring pages. It definitely helped to ease the passing of time while we waited. While he colored, we talked about the picture and the hospital. It helped me through the process especially. My heart was glad that he wasn't showing signs of anxiety. 

We had to be there at 9:45 AM. Surgery was scheduled at 10:45 AM. They didn't come get him until noon.As a mother, this hurt me. My little guy loves to eat. He is hungry often. And the fact he had to go so long without... I wanted to jump down some throats. But I had to refrain. 
Then the doctor comes by at noon to let us know what will happen. After they take him, it takes roughly 10 minutes for the procedure. Then 30 for the recovery. Allen asked me to set the timer up. So I did. From the time they took him until we were reunited was 56 minutes. Can you imagine how wound up my nerves were?! My mother can. She was texting me while I waited. I had three ear-related surgeries as a child. I also had my tonsils and adenoids removed at age 2. Then I had 3 major spinal operations. Did I stress my mother? You bet. And at least once, my dad cried. Especially when "complications" happened. How many of you parents have heard that word and your heart sank within you? It is a sucker punch, no matter what words follow. Your mind races as you struggle to hear what else they are saying. And that is precisely where I was when the doctor finally came out to talk to me. There were complications in the removal of the blockage. But at last, he had success. Then he tells me they will be coming to get me soon to go back to recovery. Yeah... of course. Fast forwarded to the nurse finally making her way to me, I go back to see my baby still passed out and hooked up to oxygen with a tube down his throat.

Just hit me already. They try to remove the tube, and Allen suddenly has a moment of wakefulness. He jerks upright, eyes wide, gasping and struggling against the nurses. His mouth clamped over the tube, teeth holding it in place. We are all telling him to release his hold and open his mouth. They start pulling on it, trying to pry it out. I stand slightly behind them, hoping he hears me and calms down. Hoping he sees me and knows everything is okay. Part of me chokes. I'm watching my child in his frightened discomfort and I'm helpless to assist him.
This is what mothers do. This is what we live for. Striving to give them the best in life, but watching their moments of dismay, pain, fear. And doing everything we can to help them through it. When we finally got through that, he slowly came to. I got a small wave that reminded me of how a drunk waves. After some apple juice, he regained his voice. His mouth had been dried out and chapped. He wasn't fully smiling and laughing, but he wasn't in pain. They hand over the discharge papers and read over warnings and things to watch for. Bleeding? Dizziness and light-headedness seemed right. Fever and vomiting I understood. But bleeding from his ears?! 
I'm so glad it is over now. That he is done and has been doing exceptionally well all the rest of today. Tomorrow he will go back to school and I look forward to hearing all about it. Because that is what truly makes me happy. Having my babies safe and healthy.

Mother's Day is on its way!

I don't have much money these days, so I am trying my hand at making gifts for the Nana's and Nona in our lives. Gotta admit, I'm no good at crafting. If it weren't for the fact that these are done mostly by the kids, I'd have thrown them away instead of trying to wrap them up for the recipients... Well, that and I don't know what else to do.

I got out the left over modge podge from creating the galaxy jars. Then I got some glitter. These packs are actually meant for nail art, but hey, glitter is glitter right? And then boom! We have craft and messy time.



What are you doing for Mother's Day? What special plans do you have? What gift ideas did you plan on for this year?

Gardening is good for the soul

Gardening is good for the body too. You grow healthier foods, maybe beautiful flowers, or trees for some summer time shade. Whatever it is, it has purpose in the long run.
For my family, we are growing vegetables. One - to save money. Two - to eat healthier. I'm also having my daughter help in growing flowers. She loves to pick wildflowers everywhere we go. Do you have one of those kids in your life? The one you hear, "This is for you, Mommy!", as she hands you a wilted flower that has tiny black insects in the middle? You reach down and say, "Aw, thank you, sweetie." Then when she isn't looking, the flower finds a new home in the grass...

But the excitement we have while working together as a family, is what is truly important to me. We spend so much time as moms, or dads, that we miss moments with our kids. How often do you find yourself saying, "Oh? That sounds cool." Or, "Really? Well, just be careful." Were you really listening to them? Can you repeat their story back to them? Or did you get the gist and mumble your reply while focusing on your current task. Watching TV, washing dishes, folding laundry... Yes, these are important and must be completed. Yes, time is limited. But they won't be little forever. Before you know it, your baby is 8 years old. He has an attitude and doesn't want to stand next to you when his friends are there. Your little girl is 4 years old and wants to pick out her own clothing for school. And your 6 year old can do his homework without your help, but let's you "help" by reading the instructions just to spend that time with you. 
So, this is what we are doing. What about you? What will you do to have meaningful time with your loved ones.

7 wonderful years so far

This past weekend was my little man, Allen's, 7th birthday.

Time flies! He has grown taller than his older brother. He is also sharp-witted and mathematically inclined. So, I'm one proud mama. We took him to Main Event. For the past couple weeks (weekends), we have been trapped at home. Everyone had some kind of ailment. My oldest son had severe allergies, Allen had pneumonia, my older girl had a perforated ear drum and allergies, and the baby was showing signs of congestion for unknown reasons. I had something that ended up in allergies. And my fiancé also had his allergies flare up. We were miserable. I missed work. All the kids missed some school. It was quite the time. So this past weekend, my fiancé and I decided that we had had enough of being trapped indoors. It was time to venture outside while we were feeling a bit more on the mend. We had some friends join in and got a small cake to share. Everyone ate and played and had a great time. He had all kinds of Lego and Minecraft gifts to love. It was wonderful. And it made me so happy. They are growing up so quickly. I want to treasure the moments while I can. Before I know it, they will be grown and gone.

When we got home, we had these little gemstone kits I got on clearance at Target a while back.

 

You chip away until you find your "gem".

Some of them are supposed to be real and valuable. Like one that I opened had what is supposed to be an actual diamond.

It was so much fun for all of us. And the smiles we all shared will be memories I keep in my heart. Happy Birthday, little man. Mommy loves you!

She's here!

My daughter is officially here. However, this post comes a little late... She's now 14 days old.

My little girl has been marching to the beat of her own drum this entire time. It would seem she doesn't stay within the lines any more than her father and I do. As such, she came in her own good time.
Thursday, November 17th, I had my 39 week check up.

As part of that, the midwife attempted to check my cervix. It took quite a bit of effort, but she finally found it. In doing so, she disturbed the mucous plug. She scheduled my inducement for the following Sunday morning. Friday night, about midnight, my water burst. And over the next few hours my water gushed in spurts. Contractions got to 8 minutes apart before slowing down and becoming sporadic. At one time I had 2 strong ones within three minutes apart. Feeling like we should be safe rather than sorry, we decided to head to the hospital. After getting in, we filled out more paper work. Mind you, I had pre-registered twice already. My online version didn't count. And yet, I felt like I had answered all the same questions twice more after arriving at the hospital. Contractions were strong, but sporadic still. They got me hooked up to monitors and started the IV. While going through all this, I had a nurse and someone she was clearly training. The trainee knew more about entering the correct information into the computer system than the charge nurse did. The charge nurse told us that they had been busy all night long. And that some of those new moms admitted shouldn't have been having babies at all. I mean come on... who doesn't know what a circumcision is?! Especially if you are having a baby boy! Or how about a teenage mom who named her baby Anti Delicious. Are you setting her up to be a hooker?!
Moving right along... It came time to check my cervix. My fiancé was sitting in the waiting area just outside the curtain, listening. The charge nurse got gloves on and attempted to check my cervix. Apparently, mine was quite elusive. None of the medical professionals I dealt with that night and the following day could easily access it. NO ONE. She had me practically doing moves that made it look like an exorcism was taking place and still couldn't reach it. I'm whimpering and my fiancé is wondering if they are killing me. Then she calls another nurse down from the next floor who is known to have longer fingers. Again, I go into the crazy position and she struggles, but finally finds my cervix. I'm only at 2 centimeters by this point. My cervix is effaced and soft though and contractions were still strong, so they admit me and after a while of observing send me upstairs to Labor and Delivery.
Once I arrive upstairs, I'm hooked up to monitors and its early morning. They decide to get some Pitocin in me to see if we can kick start stronger, more regular contractions. I had my fiancé, his mother and his sister keeping me company. I cannot tell you how thankful I was to have them. We told stories and kept the laughter going. His mother also timed my contractions for me. It was very comforting and helped the time pass with ease. Getting closer to lunch time, we started betting on when she would be arriving. My fiancé was born at 1:19. And knowing how my baby girl likes to beat records (she was my only one that stayed inside past 38 weeks and refused to be coaxed out by standard methods), we were thinking she might try coming later than him. Though I was sincerely hoping for noon.
Contractions got stronger and I started to doubt that I would make it to the end. I was hoping for the end to get there quicker. For a moment I thought I was ready as to push, so the in laws went to wait outside. I was checked and at first they thought I was truly ready. Then I was checked by the other attending midwife when nothing seemed to happen with my pushes. Turned out my cervix had eluded the first midwife and I was only 6 centimeters along. They positioned me on my side and put a peanut-shaped workout ball between my legs. A little later, and I'm crying out from the intense pains. I get flipped to other side and the pain increases. Within 10-15 minutes of having last been checked, I was telling the nurse that it was time to push. The look of panic was seen briefly while she told her trainee I wasn't allowed to push until we got my midwives in the room. With or without them, I was kicking the ball away and rolling myself over as I was going to push. The head nurse looked and called over the headset, "I see hair! There's a head, she's ready to push." By now, the panic was obvious. The trainee grabbed one leg and I grabbed the other while commencing pushing. It felt like forever, though it was over quickly.
Meagan arrived and they laid her on my chest.

At first, my fiancé and I had concern at how dark she appeared. My concern was if she was breathing. His was more of if I had dabbled along the way. Thankfully when I spoke up, they turned on lights and we saw that she was bruised from her rapid descent. In my eyes, she was the most beautiful creature on earth. My little angel.
Our journey wasn't over. We were there 3 days dealing with jaundice tests and the ill results. Watching her under the blue lights was nerve wracking.

I didn't get an explanation to truly understand what was happening to her. I also hated the bands around her ankles. They cut into her skin and made her cry often. At one time, she managed to kick off the monitor (which freaked the nurses out). The responding nurse reattached it too tightly. I was looking for scissors...

We also had issues with the breastfeeding. She didn't get anything to come out until we got home. But she did make me bleed. It was quite the ordeal. And I'm incredibly happy its over. She's home and I'm preparing to return to work on Monday. I'm nowhere near ready for that step, but its just how things go. My little darling is finally here.

Fun preparations

This past weekend was quite enjoyable. I was given the pleasure of a baby shower thrown by my future in-laws.

We played games, ate cute snacks

and I received so many gifts for my baby girl that I had to have help from a friend getting everything home. It was Star Wars themed. We are totally bringing in a new generation of nerds. This one is getting the earliest start. My future mother and grandmother in-law did a wonderfully funny skit about caring for a baby. 

My daughter will come into a family that is genuinely excited to meet her as well as love her dearly. Her bed is now completely ready with all the handmade bedding that was made for her by 3 generations of women.

I couldn't be prouder to bring her home to this. 

My other children had the fun of building Lumiere at a free Lego event at Toys R Us. 

On Sunday, we took the kids to the park to wear off energy and play with friends. 

I'm hoping for another fun weekend to come. 

Finding time for Family

In this fast paced age, we are too often on the go. I struggle to balance work with spending time with the kids as well as keeping a clean home. I've had to get creative and keep things fun. Like asking the kids to sweep or vacuum with/for me. I have them each pick a task and tell them that the rewards for doing them are to help mommy, who has pain. Or that once we finish, we can do something fun together. And quicker than if I do it all myself. One of those fun things has been going to the bookstore. My daughter had money from her birthday and they each had completed the Half Price Books summer reading program. 

So they got to pick out books and movies they wanted. Plus my daughter bought a book. 

Tonight, I made a point to take a break from the usual chores to play instead. We took a couple Lego sets out and began to build with the kids. 

We also had smoothies and apple slices with caramel to sweeten the evening activities. They had a blast! 

I had them help me with getting the baby mobile ready for the little lady on the way.

The help we received from my future mother in law, my mother, and the kids made quite the beautiful addition. 

These little moments are swift in passing, but so sweet while they last. I think everyone should make a point to do something fun. Just every so often. And don't forget the bedtime story! 

Where has the time gone?

My oldest just turned 7 years old this past weekend. Seven years old... Where has the time gone?! Its as if yesterday I was wheeled into the delivery room and now he's a walking, talking, little question-filled boy. Its been amazing, trying, tiring... a long journey that seems to have passed in the blink of an eye.

This year he wanted a Star Wars themed party. He loves watching the Star Wars Clone Wars cartoons on Netflix or the Rebels on cable. And with the new movie coming out soon, its a family thing all around. I didn't have the time or resources to do too much this year, but thanks to Pinterest, I was able to find ideas to decorate and make it fun with. 

I printed out this cool little certificate. 

Then came decorating cups and water bottles with R2-D2 labels. 

The cake was awesome though. HEB had this one with the Vader mask that makes that breathing sound we love so well. 

I hung Star Wars dangle decorations, had a table cover, and a few other things I had picked up on clearance at Target. While most of the people invited weren't able to join us as the weather wasn't cooperating, some of my ex's adult friends stopped by.

The kids enjoyed just having visitors for a change. 

The birthday boy got some fun gifts too. 

The following Monday, my ex in laws asked to take the boys out to Chuckee Cheese.

They had pizza and played games. 

So much fun! I treasure these moments I have with them. They are fleeting and pass me by so quickly.