HNY!

Did you notice that yesterday was 1/1/11? It would have been more interesting for me to have pointed that out yesterday, but alas I did not. Today is 1/2/11, but that is not interesting at all. When it is 1/2/21 that will be nifty. I'll be 50 years old. What? In October it will be 11/11/11. Now that's cool.

I don't believe in New Years resolutions, do you? Eat better, exercise regularly, get organized, read more books and spend less time online, blog more. Did I hear blog more? Can I get a what, what??

It used be I found myself pretty interesting. Going through infertility and experiencing the adoption process was pretty exciting stuff, and I found that writing about it and using my self-professed sense of humor to get through were helpful.

So are trial and struggle the only interesting things to blog about? It's not that I don't have either in my life right now, but most pressing is how do I raise my little men. This is my most important mission now. As a formerly infertile woman, who still identifies greatly with that plight, I've had a hard time blogging about parenting. There are tons of blogs about parenting. I'm also not that great a parent! I have some cute stories, though.

My Wendi has managed to continue blogging and being a mom sensitive to her readers who are experiencing infertility. (Did I just insert a link all by myself?) She is a blogging inspiration! (Did I really just insert a link?) Others have done it too, right?

I shouldn't feel like I have to apologize for being a mom. No one tells me I should, but I feel a self-imposed need to shelter my IF friends from All Mom All The Time. I think this is why I stopped blogging. That and I really don't have a lot of uninterrupted time to get my thoughts down. (Enough time to play a lot of Facebook Scrabble though!)

So anyway, I want to try to blog more. I did used to really enjoy it. I should stop apologizing to myself about being too momish. I am a lot of other things too, but I am a mom with mom issues and parenting struggles.

So I'm going to go for it. I'm not making a NYR, but I do commit to blogging something every day for 21 days and try to make a habit. I give myself permission to talk about parenting and I promise not to only talk about parenting. If I can get back into the gym, I can do this!

Any other part-time bloggers care to join me for a 21 day attempt at daily blogging?

Tips from a Not-So-Supermom.

Today's tips - stay tuned for new tips every 3 months - haha.

Tips for Making Christmas Cookies with Preschoolers!

1. Lower your expectations.
2. Buy pre-made dough.
3. Lower your expectations.
4. Bake at breakfast time. You'll be more fresh and won't have to cook breakfast!
5. Lower your expectations again.
6. Embrace the mess as part of the process.
7. Plan to offer actual nutrition the rest of the day.
8. Plan on only you and your children eating or seeing the cookies. This way when they put the icing tube in their mouth you won't have to worry about your neighbor or their teacher getting their germs.
9. Make each child a cookie with the first letter of their name that they can decorate any way they want and then eat.
10. Take lots of pictures!

Blessings

I'm sitting in my new kitchen. It's ginormous. (How did "ginormous" pass the spell check?) It's embarrassing, really, how big it is. The other day we delivered a loved crib to a single mama from our church. She has an absolutely gorgeous 6-month-old son with the hugest brown eyes you've ever seen. She lives in a small old house with a rotting porch with her mom, her older son, her little baby, and perhaps someone else - we couldn't tell. She and her mom were lovely and very grateful for a crib for their little sweetheart.

We dropped off the crib at the non air conditioned house and hopped back into our comfy, cool minivan to return to our new home where Granny was caring for our boys, much as that little baby's grandmother likely takes care of him sometimes, too. As we drove off I realized how embarrassingly comfortable we expect to be as a family.

In Austin we lived in a 1400 square foot house with two little boys. It was tight but we were determined to make it work until we could pay it off. People live with much much less space, obviously, and although we occasionally longed for a bigger place to spread out (mostly for a bigger kitchen), we were all happy there.

Enter a new city with a much lower average housing cost. We rented a big ol' house (to us) for a year, put an offer on this place in April, closed in June, and leased back to the original owners for two months. Now we're in our new home and are really happy to have more space. But we really aren't any happier than when we had less space.

I know as middle-class Americans we have much more than we need and are terribly spoiled. I know that "on paper," but dropping off the crib at this mom's house was a tangible reminder of how blessed we are. We could be wealthier, but we couldn't be richer, and we wouldn't be happier.

I would be happier if it weren't football season. (Just kidding, darling.)

Hindsight

Some of my most beautiful memories come from when we were struggling daily, monthly, and annually with infertility. How is that possible? At the time it was the most devastating experience of my life.

I look back at joining Hannah's Prayer after 9 months of infertility. What an amazingly incredible blessing HP has been for me over the years. I have been a member now for over 6 years and now moderate two forums. I have met endless beautiful ladies, some whose arms have been filled with children and some whose hearts have been filled with peace and joy as families of two!

Reading some of my old posts in preparation for my support group tomorrow simply warm my heart. Helpful comments from friends like Crunchy Christine who has now advised me every which way on topics like infertility, open adoption, breast feeding, and anger management. I get to see how God gave me peace and contentment in my life even before my arms were filled with my two precious blessings, and how He has grown me in the past 7 years.

Tomorrow I go sit with a group of ladies (no idea how many folks will turn up) who are currently struggling with infertility and my purpose is to point them to the God of healing and love. He loves us whether we feel it's true or not - it's just a fact. Whether I have faith or I don't, God is sovereign and holy and loves me. When I am angry with Him He still loves me. When I feel like I am not getting the good that I deserve, the truth is that I'm getting much more than what I deserve to be called His child.

Easy for me to point to God now that my arms are filled, right? Well that might be a valid point, but it doesn't make His promises and his word any less true. It's just hard to see clearly in times of personal crisis. It was for me, it is now in different situations, and it will likely be hard to see clearly for these ladies. I just need to continually remind myself that I cannot heal their hurts, but God can.

Support

My support group starts tomorrow. I was going to write about it when I heard on the TV about how lack of sleep can affect preschoolers FOREVER! So what am I supposed to do about that? Start bedtime at 6pm the minute my husband walks through the door so those kids can be asleep by 7:30? Drive myself absolutely INSANE taking it all upon myself to force those boys to go to sleep how, by holding them down in their beds and taping their eyes and mouths shut? I don't think so. I want those researchers to come to my home and get my kids to sleep by 7:30. Wouldn't that just look like an episode of Leave it to Beaver?

I have to make lunches for tomorrow. No time to prepare for my support group. Can I have a snack now? It's only 9:35 p.m. The kids have been asleep for less than an hour and I got an, "I hate you, Mommy" from my little angel. Perhaps all this nonsense is meant to be a distraction for me and I shouldn't let it.

Prepare...

This is gross. You may want to stop reading.

Not for the coprophobic.

This morning I decided to make a healthy green smoothie for part of my balanced breakfast (1 cup water, kale, 1 banana, 1 c. of frozen berries). I had my first 3 ingredients in the carafe and two boys sitting on the kitchen counter. They were, well, let's call it "helping."

I turned my back to rinse out the lid when the blender turns on and banana-kale-water flies into the air with the greatest of ease. "NO!" I scream, and walk speedily out of the room to get my bearings. As I went back to check the damage it wasn't that bad and so I counted my blessings.

Ah, here comes my delicious smoothie. By this time LB resigned to the Mickey Mouse Club on TV while BB was still helping me. Thank God I was standing there because BB picked up what looked like a flattened felt pad from the bottom of our kitchen chairs and went to put it in the blender. "Stop, BB," I said, and took the object from him. "What is that?" I thought aloud as I held it up to my face to inspect it.

It was then I realized that it was poo. It had fallen out of BB's pull-up and he'd flattened it with his foot. I squealed, threw it away, and vigorously washed my hands. I turned to BB who was looking bewildered from the kitchen chair next to the counter. I asked him, "Were you trying to make a poo smoothie?" He smiled sheepishly and we went on with our smoothie-making. One might think we would not want to drink the smoothie that almost went fecal on us, but we only had one banana left so we had to.

It was good.

You might be a mom of boys if...

Mom

That makes me:

Referee
Coach
Personal Trainer
Teacher
Pastor
Chef
Maid
Nurse
Mediator
Counselor
Friend
Mrs. Nice guy
Mean lady :o)

Quiet.

It's quiet. What? I'm just soaking it in.

LB broke the blender earlier. That was loud. The boys are tired today. They're loud. I have a lot on my mind today. My thoughts are also loud. I'm paralyzed by quiet. What do I do now? As soon as I start something I'm certain to be disturbed. It's hard to get started on something cool when I'm always wondering when someone will wake up and need me.

I'm not complaining. Parenting is a gift. But it's a loud job.

What should I do?

Humbled

A little under a year ago we moved to a new city and found a new church. It's very different from the church we attended last, a big Baptist church. Our current church is one of the world's largest (like #20 or so) and is filled to the brim with outreach ministries, both within the church and community. It has been wonderfully interesting lately finding out about all of the ministries, especially the Pastoral Care department. There are 20 or so support groups at our church helping people going through trials like alcoholism, marriage issues, and abortion recovery. It's amazing. But there has been a group close to my heart that has not yet been served - couples going through the monthly heartbreak of infertility.

Every service the pastor calls people to the alter who would like to receive prayer. I am usually in the choir loft during one of those services, so I often see the faces and tears of our dear brothers and sisters coming for intercessory prayer. I often wonder if some of those tears are for the monthly losses associated with being unable to conceive or to carry a baby to term. Every time I watch this type of alter call I pray fervently for those women and men. I began to feel led every Sunday to talk to someone about starting an infertility life group at the church.

After an obviously God-ordained series of events, I was put in touch with the director of support services in the Pastoral Care department and, long-story short, we met and proposed a plan to the Pastoral Care department to start an infertility support group in the fall. Last week I received word that our Community Bible Church has approved the group. We will start in September.

"Now what?!?!?" I ask. I am not a professional counselor, I am just a busy mom who has not forgotten where we've come from to get there. I don't look like a professional - right now I'm sitting in my PJs gazing over an extremely toy-strewn playroom and periodically making sure my boys are not eating from the sugar bowl like they enjoy doing. I don't dress to shoes every day and I've barely done any professional work for almost 4 years. I'm not a trained speaker, I ramble on and on sometimes, and I am certainly not "good enough" to be in a position to minister to how ever many women come to our fledgling group. But you know Who Is?

So I'm humbled that God has chosen to form this group and I am praying for a co-leader. I can't wait to see who God turns up! I know He has chosen her already and she just has yet to be revealed. How exciting!! We need to nail down a book to guide our time (I'm thinking Hannah's Heart by Jenni Saake), and then discuss some group details. I will have to pull out some of my counseling skills from Nat "What are the tears about?" Kees at Colorado State University. (That was a fun time in my educational career so it will be fun to think back on that.) Above all I will be praying for the ladies who would venture into our group.

Yes, we're parenting little kiddos now and our infertility days are not our current reality, but I have not lost the heart for this group of ladies and I am looking forward to seeing what comes out of this. I don't think anyone who has walked the lonely road of infertility has forgotten, either. Will you join me in prayer?

Bible Gateway dot com.

“But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen and protect you from the evil one.”- 2 Thessalonians 3:3

That's all. :o)

Operation Wear 'Em OutI

Once a week or so I have a mom's night. No, not a night where I go out and paint the proverbial town, but a night where I am the only grown-up. I have a plan. I shall retitle the evening, "Play-our-faces-off night." I need some high-energy activities for us so I can put them down early to bed and have some me time. I love me time.

Looks like Chick-Fil-A is on that agenda. They have a playscape that that boys love. LB is always dripping with sweat by about 5 minutes of play. BB wants to fill up the pool, but I might leave that for nights when Randy is home and can help me wash grass of these guys.

Operation Wear 'Em Out begins...

Mommy, you're pretty.

I was just trying to get the kids settled down for their naps. They were pretty riled up. BB kept climbing into LB's bed and when I went to take him out they clung to each other and BB said, "But I love LB so much!" Awww.

A few minutes later I was singing the Cheeseburger Song (Veggie Tales), and BB said, "Mommy, your toenails aren't pretty." A month or so ago I had painted my toenails pink and BB was bragging to everyone about them. Who says boys aren't into beauty! I removed the pink a few weeks ago and went au natural until 5 minutes ago. Now my toenails are plum.

I asked BB, "Do you want me to paint my toenails?" and he got a sweet smile on his face and finally began to settle down. Who knew all it would take to get them to sleep was toenail polish?

I love my boys.

Clean eating

I'm not sure what this means, but I know it doesn't mean what I ate for dinner last night! But, I am on a health kick and am interested in changing my diet so that I feel more energy and less moody. Today we are going to a local farmer's market for some fresh produce. They also have "clean, wholesome, grass-fed beef and pastured chickens," whatever that means.

We started "getting ready" at 9:15 and now it's almost 10:30. We do not do "getting ready" fast in this house! The blessing for this morning is that LB let me dress him without screaming at me. A small victory.

Off to the farmer's market. LB hopes to see a cow. I don't think he means a steak, though.

Unexpected, non-child-related blessing.

Today I had plans to go to my friend Elisabeth's house for lunch with some of the moms from the boys' school. I was expecting to either know everyone there or have something obvious in common with everyone. When I knocked on the door an older woman answered and I was momentarily confused and thought I had gotten the wrong house. But then Elisabeth popped around the corner and I was relieved. Elisabeth is Swedish, although she has lived in the states for 10 years, and today I met two other women from her home country. One was a young married woman, and one was an 85-year-old widow. I Americanized their names and then began to mingle with the women I knew.

Then I met Marion, an engaging 74-year-old woman who is also a widow of 4 years. Then Vienna who I didn't know, and Doris from Puerto Rico. I ended up knowing fewer than 50% of the women there. I wouldn't say I was disappointed, but it just wasn't what I was expecting.

The moms from school sat at a table together, and the other table was the "international table." Although there was a seat at either table, I sat with the women I didn't know. I had a fabulous and blessed lunch with my new friends. I spent most of the time talking with Marion, as she told me about her 52-year-old beau and her upcoming move to be closer to her daughter. I chatted a little with the Swedish ladies about the Americanization of their names, of their language, and of the failure of the U.S. to encourage language learning in our schools.

Elisabeth served a traditional Swedish Smörgåstårta or "sandwich cake." It was just amazing. Isn't it gorgeous? I could have eaten 5 servings. We had ice-cream afterwards, and that paled in comparison to the Smörgåstårta. I never ever ever ever thought I would have preferred a sandwich over ice cream. Crazy.

I'm not sure I can express why I felt so blessed afterwards. I guess because it was so unexpected and different than having lunch with a pile of people I knew. Also because Elisabeth was so hospitable and planned an interesting international gathering with a dish from her country. Plus, as much as I adore my kids, our conversation was pretty much void of kid talk. It felt great to have flowing conversation with people in a different life stage than mine.

I really have no idea who reads my blog anymore, besides my mom, Niki, and Allison! But I want to encourage "my readers" to maybe sit at a table full of people you don't know at the next social gathering you attend. I know I will.

Thanks, Elisabeth!

Resting

Boy, life has been busy lately! We moved in September, began to get adjusted, and the boys are into everything at all times. Then we rescued Gracie and rehabilitated her through a leg amputation and now a spay. We are looking for a new home and I have evening plans tonight.

I went to look at homes this morning with our awesome, smart, beautiful real estate consultant and then came home to quickly pick up my care group list for choir. I called Randy at work to update him on the home situation and he encouraged me to take a breather this afternoon. Now I'm breathing.

Random thoughts. I saw 4 homes this morning and two of them were very nice. Another was quirky and quaint, not exactly our style, and another had a complicated back yard that would not be conducive to our current lifestyle. However, both of the areas we looked in are a little farther out than ideal for us, so we probably won't continue to look in those areas. We go back out on Saturday.

Gracie is doing well and was spayed yesterday. So now she has an even more interesting fur pattern. Here is a picture of her from Saturday.

Tonight I am having dinner with a college friend who I have not seen or spoken to in over 15 years (until last night, that is). I'll find a nice Texasy spot for us to dine. Should be fun!

Pillows

As I sit and do some nonsensical work on my computer, two naked boys play sumo babies.

BB just chased after LB with their pillows held to their chests, naked baby booties passing me by. Both giggling with naked glee. "Let's go to the yellow room," BB said as they scampered off.

Blessings.

(I could make this into a haiku, don't you think?"

Gracie's recovery, day 4

Gracie is very slowly and very surely perking up. She had her bandage taken off today and the vet said she looks really good. I'm not sure "looks good" describes it, but it is definitely an improvement from before. This is a real fighter. Not only is she getting used to being a house cat after living the wild life for the first 6 months, but getting used to two new cats and the loss of a limb. A lot of adjustments! She will need some time to figure out how to get around more stealthily with her new physique. I felt sad for her when she fell over during this video, but if you're not falling you're not trying, right? Maybe that only applies to skiing, I don't know.

Being scared of the other cats in the house hinders her recovery. She is still living in the bathroom and it's pretty small. There aren't really too many exciting things to do in there so there's not much reason to move around. Maybe she'll learn to flush the toilet. Although I'm not sure how, since we haven't used that bathroom for over 2 weeks. The vet thinks that after the sutures come out would be a good time to introduce all of these guys. I guess I should be glad to have another female in the house. This almost evens out the gender count at home.

She plays

These are some pictures from yesterday.






We went to the vet for a bandage change today. They took the bandage off completely and planned to leave it off until I reminded them that Gracie likes to lie around in her litter box! We'll leave the bandage on until Wednesday. Hopefully she'll be feeing much better and would rather hang in her bed instead of the poop box. The doctor said she seems to be doing well and things are healing up nicely. The visual image is a little Bride of Frankenstein, but not too bad. I'll have two days to get used to the image in my head before bye-bye bandage.

So tonight I went in to give her medicine and hold her for a little bit. She loves to be scratched under the chin. She purrs so loudly! After petting her for awhile I introduced the catnip mouse again. She actually batted at it for the first time. I was so proud! She looked very interested in it as I bat it around on the floor. Maybe some pouncing is in our near future!

Gracie's recovery, day 1

The recovery - day 1

Gracie one day post surgery:


The Fence, Gracie's nemesis: