Reflection full circle

"Reborn and shivering

Spat out on new terrain

Unsure, unconvincing

This faint and shaky hour.

Day one, day one 

Start over again

Step one, step one

I'm barely making sense

For now I'm faking it 

'Til I'm psuedo-making it

From scratch, begin again

But this time I is "I" 

and not as "we"-  Alanis Morissette Not as We

It occurred to me this morning that it is July 10th. 5 Full days past the one day of every year that I dread, the anniversary of my father's suicide. I "celebrate" the day every year by spending the day in a bitter stooper. I used to visit his grave, that was before my children, and for a while I was so angry at him that I refused to go on principle. Why should I visit the death bed of a man too arrogant to spend his life near me. To selfish to suffer through to get to know his grandchildren. But I have forgiven him and it seems let go of the anger and bitterness that have surrounded July 5th. I have finally begun to live the ideal that I preached as a 13 year old child. To judge based on ones' life, not the final moments of death.

Finally 14 years later that I can finally understand, forgive and begin to heal my heart after so long.  They say a daughter's first love is her father. That she will choose a husband very similar to that of her father. And with my new clarity I can see that is true. To have my heart so severely broken that long ago, I never truly healed. I carried a bitter distance from any man trying to get near. Although I feel I have loved Jer to the greatest of my ability, I think from this point I can finally love him with a whole heart. One that is able to trust entirely, accept without judgement, and be without pre-conceived ideals. Although he is much like my father in that of a struggling childhood, challenged into manhood, brilliant beyond his understanding, able to rise above the odds handed to him, an open and giving heart, believing in giving of ones' self to others, and loving a woman that can sometimes be stubborn and difficult, love her because of it and not in spite of it; he is still very different. Jer is much further along in his souls' evolution. My father had a difficult lesson to learn in this life, and and even harder one to teach. Today is day 1 and I am finally beginning to learn. 

"Eyes wet,

Toward wide open freight

If God is taking bias,

I pray he wants to lose

Day one, day one

Start over again

Step one, step one

I'm barely making sense

Just yet I'm faking it

'Til I'm pseudo-making it

From scratch, begin again

But this time I as "I"

And not as "we"

My summer lovin'

Following suit from Jen, one of my favorite blogs to read, I thought I would finish posting about summer that is right on top of us. I've always dubbed myself more of a fall/winter girl, I love warm, cozy sweaters and my favorite pair of jeans. Fortunately I live in Arizona so winter does not mean snow shoveling or howling wind. But summertime can get oh so hot. They say "it's a dry heat". I never knew what that meant as a child, sounded funny though. I can't actually say I know what it's like to live somewhere sporting 80% humidity, I didn't mind it in Hawaii, but then there was nothing but LOVE for Hawaii. SO back to my list for summer:

1. Flip Flops- best shoe ever.

2. Painted toes- I love the look of fresh feet and painted toes. I have tried several times now to paint the Mims' wee toes, but she never lets me past the big one and always insists on touching before it's dried. Oh well, she'll get it soon. 

3. Waterplay- We did some yesterday, but the boys' need some bigger and better water guns in order for us to play a proper game of seek and destroy. Mims loved her little pool though, we just require some better toys since Urbn ate most of the ones from last summer. 

4. Later Nights- The sun setting later makes it feel like we have a bit more time in the day. No daylight savings here, too confusing for the desert rats. 

5.  Fresh fruits- Ahh the fruits of summer. So plump and flavorful. Watermelon, strawberries and cantaloupe, juicy and delicious. So what if the veggie selection dwindles in the hot summer heat; we have fresh pineapple sweeter than candy!

6. Vacation- Vegas next week! Hopefully we can work out taking the kiddos to California for some beach time, but if nothing else we will go camping more than once before summer is over. 

7. Cruising with the windows down- although most days you'll get hit with some heat equivalent to sticking your head into the heated oven straight from opening the door. But on days of overcast, mornings or evening the kids like to roll down their windows while we drive to the store and let the air in. Something refreshing about "fresh" air hitting all that sweat that just screams summer. 

8. Slacking off- why does summer make us feel like being lazy? Could be the drag of summer heat, or could be remnants of summer vacations pasts. Back when school went on break but our parents did not. I can't wait to have summer fun planned for my kids after having the long school year. 

9. Nobody has to get dressed- We can run around in minimal all day on those days there is nothing taking us out. It's too hot to put on much anyway and yes I have been known to put off something just to make it one of those days. BONUS: saves me on laundry! Hey, I'm doing my part to go green. =)

10.  Fall- Summer means my favorite time of year, Fall, is just around the corner. 

So I have a top ten reasons why I like summer. (Really, Fall in AZ is way better.)

Too Hot to handle.

I've made it all the way to June 9th without saying it's too hot outside, but today it is H-O-T. The plants are drooping, the dog doesn't want to go out and pee, even Mims came back in eagerly after just minutes and chugged some water. I think this afternoon we will splash in some water and enjoy popsicles cause man alive it's just hot.

It says it's only 94 out there, should climb to 104 by mid afternoon. The ac has us at a cool 78 for naptime. Think I'll catch a catnap since not much else should be done in this weather, and post an update on our day later. 

Birthday Snot.

Tristan was the first to have it. Birthday and snot. Although he wasn't feeling well, and after my initial 2-3 days of this and now Jer starting his today I know he felt down right crappy, I thought it important he was able to have his last day of pre-school that just so happen to fall on his 5th birthday. He was given a special birthday crown that his friends in class decorated with stickers, I made cupcakes for him to take in, not to mention the end of year party that included icecream cone sundaes which he told me later he did his up with cookies, cherries, and m&ms. Good boy.  

SO my first baby has turned 5, quite the milestone for us. With a "school" picture up on the wall, he looks so grown up. I still remember his birth, how hard of a pregnancy that was, how young and naive we were; it all seems so close yet so very far, far behind us. 

Come on baby, Mama needs a new Wii!

After blogging my fitness demise for the contest here, I reluctantly deleted it after much thought about what my beloved friends might think of me were they to read it. Mainly because the worst of the stories remain privy to only those fortunate enough to witness the demise first hand or question the wounds in the aftermath. I don't even think I've blogged about them (pre-blog days).  But when a 2nd contest was announced on City Mama, I thought the Wii gods much surely be pointing at me to unveil my fitness woes in an effort to score me and my fam a new Wii system and the Wii Fit so I can finally shed those 15lbs that still hang off my butt.

Over the years I have been suckered into a multitude of fitness crazes. I Jazzercised with my mom in my pre-teens, was a weight jock in high school, and found yoga after college. I can say that it wasn't until I had my 1st child that I began the same battle I think most moms face....(with a loud, booming announcer voice) The battle of the post baby pounds. DUM DUM DUM. 

Let's start with the multitude of fad diets shall we. There was the grapefruit diet (too sour), the cabbage soup diet (too gassy), the blood type diet (too limiting), the Southbeach diet (too much like atkins), Atkins (not for a carboholics like me), YOU on a Diet (Really Dr.OZ, a balanced diet and consistent exercise plan will get me to my goal? Gosh I didn't know that?!), and finally the Abs diet. Which was the success that brought me to the fitness demise we are here to discuss. 

The Abs diet turned out to work very well for me and after completing the 2-weeks of diet alone that is recommended I had lost 8lbs and was anxious to jump on the exercise band wagon to skyrocket my weight loss, build lean muscle and finally look like those ladies on the cover of Maxim.  Since I already had a multitude of workout videos and embarrassing gadgets that had obviously failed me in the past, I decided something new was in order. I visited my local SUPER Target and descended upon the fitness isle.  Of all the things I've tried, resistance bands was never one. Well there's my problem, of all my frivolous fitness purchases like gym memberships and free weights, I had somehow overlooked these simple yet effective tools. Easily carried when I travel (cause a stay at home mom to 3 under 5 travels so much), ready for me to use anywhere, and obviously so fun to use that I'll be donning a string bikini in less than 6 weeks! SOLD!

The following day I was so anxious to try out my new tools I allowed the children additional cartoon time, snuck away to my bedroom outfitted in my best fitness attire (cutoff sweats, built-in bra workout tank, ankle socks, and smelly tennis shoes), completely prepared to work my butt off.  The brilliant apparatus connected simply to the top of the door, of which I locked to cautiously avoid a child slamming me with it while I was becoming Carmen Electra. I smartly attached the instruction sheet to the door so I could move smoothly through the routine. After finishing all moves that had me facing the door, I turned my back to give my shoulders and pecks a go with a move that involved me pulling the cords over my head with arms extended up. 3, 4, 5... feeling the burn..... WHAP! I was suddenly propelled forward, off my feet, onto my face and into a yellow metal dump truck my son used to haul around action figures. I rolled to my back and made friends with the birdies circling my head. I gently gathered them up, put them back in their cage and went to inspect who or what had sabotaged my effective workout.  It appeared the black bungee cords had come unattached from the door. I carefully clipped them back into their attachment, pulled them in all directions to check for safety and was rewarded by a slap in the face as they dislodged from their holster yet again! Stupid piece of crap is defective! I will return this promptly and use that fine money to have Ben and Jerry over to sooth my bruised ego and cheek. 

I retreated to the bathroom to check that cheek and was shocked at what I found. But not on my cheek, I had been so flustered by my whack in the back of the head and involved with finding out the cause, I had neglected to check the head wound incurred on that dump truck. I had apparently taken the header at just the right angle to clip the corner of the bed of the truck and it broke the skin, just barely. But it was enough to brand me with a small scarlet letter of fitness woe, a one inch "L" dead center of my forehead. How on earth would I return a defective piece of fitness equipment with a very obvious Loser stamp staring out at the world. I promptly cut myself bangs, which have never flattered me, threw those rubber bands in the dumpster with my hair trimmings, and concocted a story of sheer klutziness to share with friends and family. (You see I was working out with my rubber bands stretched over a door, when they came loose, smacked me in the back of the head, sending me off my feet and flying 10 feet into a yellow metal dump truck. No thank- you. Better to say I tripped over scattered toys and took a header into said truck.) It took 6 months and an entire tube of Mederma for me to finally grow those bangs out without the world knowing my pain.  

I have a vault of fitness woes and still the same, or quiet possibly they are new found, 15lbs tagging along with me. I can't say the Wii will get me any closure to resembling Eva Longoria Parker, that would take a change in race and act of God, but the kids, hubby and I will surely have a blast at it. And if at some point that Wii, or any activity related to playing that Wii, is to brand me, I promise to wear it with pride and hell, even blog about it. Pictures included.  

Doing our part.

Since I have been reading "A New Earth" I am becoming more aware of my connection not only to the world around me, but my connection to this universe in general. Jer and I both feel it is our jobs to do our part, as small as it may be, to contribute to our community, the kids' school, the environment, friends, family, strangers, and now with the euthanasia issue is AZ shelters. Arizona is facing record numbers of animals in shelters, in turn record numbers of animals euthanized due to lack of space and funds. Many of these animals had families who have fallen into hard times with the housing market in turmoil, the economy in a funk, or just overall back luck. Most of them forced to move into places that doesn't allow their pet, or they can barely afford to feed and care for themselves let alone an animal. Now there is the part of me that feels bad about their problems, then there is the part of me that is so aggravated by it. When you commit to an animal you commit for the life of the animal. If you at some point cannot care for that animal any longer, it is your responsibility to find that animal another home. How someone could drop their animal at the pound knowing they will most likely be put down, abandon them in a foreclosed home, or simply push them out to fend for themselves is beyond me.  So we will do our small part here also. We cannot save them all, but we can be the difference in the life of one. 

I plan on taking Tristan on this plight. He may not remember this event vividly, but it will have an impact on his long term thought process. I want my kids to have compassion and love for the world around them, even though it can be rather nasty at times. I want them to leave the forest cleaner than we found it, turn the water off while brushing, recycle, use re-usable bags at the store, put litter in it's place and above all understand that they don't have to be saving the planet to do their small part in the world around them. If that means saving the life of just one animal, then that one animal is forever changed. 

Great Moments of Inspiration.

For the past few days I have had a blog looming. My constant reminder peeking at me from the far corner of my cupboard. My lack of clean dishes allowing it to peep through past all the matching coffee mugs, memorabilia mugs, and random odd balls. My father's coffee cup.
A work cup that he had for more years than my memory allows. My mom has kept it and after their last move she "really didn't have space for it as her now kitchen is much smaller than the previous", so she asked if i would like it. I humbly took it and put it in the corner hidden. Every now and then it would sneak through. The Anderson Clayton logo, that yellow and black logo, catching my eye and sparking a glimmer of memory of my father. Perhaps this little, simple, POSITIVE reminder was just what I needed to allow me to put up a picture of him. It's next to the boys' room so I catch a glimpse of it daily. Almost 14 years it has taken me to get to the point of being able to think of my dad and not feel bitter anger. I tried to seldom think of him at all.
I LOVE my coffee in the morning, as did my father. I drink Folgers, as he did, and my mother still does (half caff now). The smell in the house each morning is still the essence of home to me.
The past few morning I have been thinking of the things I missed with him. Specifically what it would be like to have coffee with him. I don't miss the dad things anymore, or even the grandfather things. The kids and I have that in Curt, and far better than the job my father was doing. I miss the grown-up friendship we would have now. Like what my mom and I share. Like having coffee.

Much about Nothing

I always feel like I have to have something funny or profound to right about when I come here. I forget that much of what fills ours days is a bit more than nothing. It's kinda nice to just blabber.

Mom picked up Tristan from school today, he was very surprised and excited to see her. He spent the rest of the day with them, playing games, having lunch, and helping Grandma plant. They also made cookies, he brought some home. And I was doing so well.

Zander was feeling and looking better today. He talked a mile a minute to make up for his two days of illness. We spent some time swinging and playing outside. He really gets lonely when Tristan is gone for too long. By 2 he came up "Mom, I got my shoes on. We go get Tristan now."
"No Zander, we don't need to."
"Yes, we NEED to pick up Tristan from school."
"Honey, Tristan is not at school."
"Tristan not at school?"
Puzzled look reveals wheels turning in head.
"Want to go to Grandma's house too!"
He's that smart. Or we're just that predictable. They are growing up so fast either way. I can barely remember Zander being the baby anymore, he's so big.

Miriam is taking many more steps more often. She practices all the time and has been experimenting with climbing. She can scale onto Zander's bed, but gets a little scared when it comes to getting off. She can get herself onto and off of her ride on toys rather gracefully. Mims is also dabbling with her sense of humor, being silly then waiting for you to laugh. She still likes to play in clothes, hide and seek is a favorite, and lots and lots of tickles. And like her brothers she seems to like a good rush, no fear. They'll be my little stunt team.

As for me I am finally tired. Will I actually sleep soon, who knows.

Not a Baby anymore.

My baby turned 1. I thought I was sad about it, then I realized that sad was not the way I should be. It was just a year ago that we were just a twist of fate away from mourning our loss instead of celebrating our gain. I look at her today and that tiny, less than 6 pound newbie that put my life and hers at risk just one year ago is a fleeting memory. Now she is a toddling ball of energy, taking her first steps and chasing her brothers; whom she adores. Her vocabulary is still limited to DaDa, MaMa, and a head shake for No, but she is never at a loss to express her feeling for a situation. My heart can still ache for a moment when I recall how close of a call we had, but it bleeds with elation when I see her big 'ol blues! She is our baby girl, will always be.
I've been reflecting on how not just her birth, but her being has changed me not only as a mother, but as a woman. As a mother to two boys I had ideals of the type of Mom I wanted to become. Soccer Mom extraordinaire, at every game and karate match Mom, snacks and juice boxes chilled Mom, carpooling Mom, homemade cookies after school Mom, fit and hip Mom, the cool Mom with rules, the house all their buddies wants to hang out at. THAT Mom. Then she came along and now I want to be all that and dance recital Mom, my girl can play any sport she wants Mom, Yes you can take my daughter out and her brothers will be watching you Mom, the she can talk to me about anything Mom, the someday I'll be her best friend Mom. Yes she has driven me to change and elaborate on the type of Mom I want to become, but she has made even bigger changes in the woman that I am. I will no longer say things negative about myself when someone throws me a compliment. I love my body as natural and beautiful, confident in myself. I will not stand in the mirror pinching my love handles, lifting my boobs, poking and prodding as I wrinkle my nose. Instead I will do my best to be a healthy role model for a positive body image. The world if full of people who will try and tell her she is fat and ugly and if she buys product A and B or has this surgery she will be "beautiful". I want to be her living lesson that real beauty is in the unique art that nature has created and given to her. It will emanate from the inside, cause no matter how much you pretty up the outside, you can't surgically remove the ugly from inside. I want to eliminate the self loathing issues that my mother passed down to me by always being on a diet, always trying to lose just 10lbs no matter her weight, always seeing herself as less than beautiful as I see her. For that I must change the way I see myself. No more name calling or constant criticism from me about me. Leading by example for all of my children to just be healthy and happy in the vessel you have in this life. I knew Jer could be a great example to the boys of what kind of Man to be. You work hard for what you have, treat others with respect, be playful with your children, be loving and soft to your wife, make time for family, opens doors, say please and thank you, tip well, work smarter not harder, and most of all crying when you are sad is not weak. Now I must be the example for a another woman, her father will do a stellar job showing her how a man should be treating her and her brothers will make sure that they do, but it is me who will have to show her how to hold her head up and knock them out at the same time.
Yes my baby is 1 already. No more babies for us, just a life full of growing and changing, for the positive always, I hope. We will climb mountains together, we five. FIVE! Holy moly!

To be continued......

Dum Dum Dummmmmm

So tomorrow, quick as that, I have an ultrasound to identify a lump. Not just any lump, a large one in my left breast. And several little ones. I just found the thing last Wednesday, or should I say Jer did. Or he finally got around to saying something, he noticed it a few months ago. In less than a week, WHAM! I'll see a surgeon one week later to, well I guess he will tell me. I will take him "films" and a "Printed Report" of my ultrasound. What happens next feels like a world past 8 days away. (Swallow very, very hard.) When Lashelle found a lump in her neck, it seemed like forever between ultrasounds and surgeons. I feel like this is moving awefully quick to be nothing as Bonnie said. Aside from the OB's office taking so long with the appointment making, in less than two weeks from finding a lump, it will be identified. Dum Dum Dummmmmmm.

Didn't I already have that Lifetime movie of the week moment in my life? "Girl overcomes cervical caner". I'm not supposed to be having another. I'm 27 for Christ sake! I have a wonderful husband, 3 healthy, happy and beautifully spirited children, I'm relatively healthy, living domestic suburbia bliss, we are doing so well. I used up my last angel sliding outta that one with Mims, can I expect to slip past breast cancer?

They say we write our own realities. We.... create them. What kind of sick writer am I? I think myself the kind to avoid drama, yet I'm living in it.

What's new Lumpy?

So I, correction Jeremy, found a lump in my left breast last night. According to him it has been there for at least a few months. He thought I was aware of such a thing. Well since my breasts get so much attention from both my husband and my still nursing Mims, I don't generally give them a thorough once over as I should. I guess I figure at a young 27 years, regular dr's exams, no history of breast cancer (all benign lumps in the fam have been after 40), three pregnancies and 3 years of nursing, and good overall health that lumps in my breasts were not a worry. Plus I figured I'd paid my dues with all the abnormal paps, calposcopies, leep procedures, poking, prodding, slicing and dicing. I guess I thought my body would only screw me in one function, not multiple. But there in lies my fear.
Many women in my family have had benign cysts found in their breasts, removed without incident. Said lumps arose pre, during and post menopause. None that I know of were so early in life. I am one of the first and few to not only nurse, but only nurse 3 babies for a total of 3 years. (This is said to help reduce the risks of breast cancers.) Many of the same woman dealt with abnormal paps and biopsies, none dealt with leeps in order to remove "problem" cells. My mom's lump a few years ago educated me in what I have to come. They will most likely biopsy it. Which means they will either stab a needle or make an incision deep into the center, where the lump resides, of my breast. This will most likely leave a disfiguring scar, because I don't have enough, and hurt beyond engorgement. Once they determine cancer or not, they will most likely go back in to remove said lump, and proceed with treatment as necessary. To be perfectly honest the idea of starting testing again on an entirely new issue turns a knot in my stomach I cannot explain. I just want to live a healthy whole life. Apparently I have not accepted my body and released all of my attachment to certain pains. Emotions in my like are manifesting physically and I will be forced to deal with them.
What I really want to do is ignore it. Once I acknowledge it with a Dr., then move into identifying it, it will become part of my reality. A reality that includes my hubby and kiddos. If it weren't for them I would most likely wait 6 months to a year to see if it just might go away on it's own. It could. But because of them that kind of time just isn't available. In that time it could change and grow, become something else. Something that could cost me more precious time. I am a mother and a wife, I have very special people that count on me. They need me to be on top of my game always, so I must deal with this now. Fortunately my dr's office sees it the same way and Bonnie will see me tomorrow to figure out what to do about it. Until then I will try and think only positivity.

Is "God" really listening?

I often wonder if the "god" of my youth is in fact still there, and listening. If perhaps I, as my grandmother would say, turned my back on "him" yet he is patiently waiting and watching.
The older I get the less religious I am and the more spiritual I become. I find it's not about rules bound in ancient books, written by old men. I see it as being about the beauty within and not in a mystical place we will acquire after death. That we should look inward to find the most sacred of places, not above.
Yet the world around me struggles to put everyone in a box, labeled for religious scrutiny. To say my "god" is in everything and everyone around me, the potential everywhere to come into fruition in everyday life. That my "church" is in any place I feel it move me. That I don't meet my congregation at any specific time in a allocated destination, but wait for the moments where I can be a reflection and live my beliefs in each day. Putting that out there would surely have every religious labeled man, woman, and child shouting blasphemy. How could they understand raising my children in a spiritual way without boundaries from ancient times and the fear of punishment lashed down from a "heavenly father" that is supposed to love them unconditionally as I do. I just don't see how teaching them that the truest of all love will only continue to love them if they fit into slot A, but if they should falter as we all do they risk eternal damnation by the one love that should matter the most. In my heart I know that the truest love they can find is deep inside. To love themselves for the being of light that they are. That "god" dwells inside every living entity on this planet. They only have to look with an open soul to find it.
I think the spirit of God is such a beautiful idea, mucked up by people afraid of what they would find if they looked within. So instead they insist that following a set of guidelines on the outside will somehow grant them spiritual beauty on the inside. It doesn't matter how well you sugar coat a piece of shit, it is what it is. If you don't spend a little time everyday being the light within it will get mucked up with crap, crap that can only be purged by seeing the beauty and reveling in all that is around us. Not by asking for forgiveness from a higher power simply because you fear punishment in the afterlife.
If "god" is still there and is listening, she must be so disappointed in this light called man. Taking such simple principles of life and twisting them into the modern day judgemental vehicle that organized religion is. Tacking a simple name and face to her for worship. Yes, I will teach my children that god is all around, in each of. That by looking within and loving what's inside, they will find "god" and learn to be the spirituality that this crumbling world of ours needs. To fill themselves up with life and share it; in that god will not be watching but living.

Rainy Day Schedule

Rainy days make for long and lazy days. I've managed to do some housework, but mainly goofing with the kiddos. It's very dark and dreary for 3 in the afternoon. Mims seems a bit testy today, those teeth may be working on her again. The gums look inflamed and she was only interested in squishy foods yesterday and again this morning. Makes sense.

The boys are just stir crazy with all the shut in. Last week's unusually warm temps allowed us to spend more time outside, making this week's rainy, winter weather a bit confining. I will do my best to savor it, as I know the hot dog days of summer are at our doorstep. Perhaps a bit of a splash about is in order.

Bitter Sweet Misery.

It is still relatively early around here, all three kiddos still asleep, the youngest passing gas next to me in my bed. Yet I leapt up and dashed from my bedroom quickly this morning less I miss my besdfriend's departure. Today Lashelle and Emily will make their final push in moving to Cali. There is a big part of me that feels like it's another one of the many trips she took while staying here, but the welling tears I keep having let me know that deep down the truth hurts. And yes, she snuck out quietly this morning and I missed her.
Sure I am excited to have Mims' room back, but at a price I'm not totally ready to pay yet. Couldn't she have just moved in down the street? Did Aaron have to drag her all the way to Cali? And I didn't get a vote in this! Urbn's whining in the backyard for Lady speaks volumes for my ache right now.
Last night I refused to have the drawn out, tearful goodbye. I big hug and words of appreciation (and a touch of sarcasm) for the time she stayed with us is all I could muster. I knew that if I broke down I would beg her not to go. Make her promise to come back in a month and visit for a week or three. Tell her how hard this is gonna be on ME. But I wanted her adventure to be kicked off with delight. Her place is with her husband and his place is in California right now. I will surely be out to visit in May for her birthday.
I am at a place of peace with this. That doesn't change that today will be a day of mourning for me. I plan to take the kids to the park, giving myself a bit of quiet with my thoughts. Maybe cry a little here and there cause that's okay. Change has never been an easy thing for me, but it is always good. Jer will return tonight and comfort me. Tomorrow we will paint Mim's room and Sunday move all her stuff over. By Monday the changes will be complete and the odd emptiness that will occur after Jer returns to work may be just enough to drive me insane. The kids and I will have to adapt yet again. Six month is a long time to have your every day life turned inside out, and man will we miss it.
Thank you so much Shelle for staying with us for the past 6 months. It was fabulous, challenging, joyous, exciting and pleasantly painful. You were and continue to be a thorn in my ass and I love you for it. I was so glad we could do this for you, so glad my kids could get to know you better, so glad we could have this time before you left. You will always be a very special friend to me, no matter the people who pass through my life. Our friendship is unique in that I don't see you as a friend, you are my sister. We can be brutally honest with each other, vent, get all bent outta shape and laugh it off later. I love you not in despite of your faults, I love you for them. Because without out them you would not be the light that you are. You and your family always have a standing place in my heart, my life and my home. Please feel free to make yourself welcome anytime.

Violated

There is no worse feeling than that feeling of personal violation you get from a stranger when they take it upon themselves to come uninvited into your space, rummage through your things and take whatever they choose. So you can imagine the feeling I got when I opened my van to find the contents of my glove box gone through and thrown about, the contents of Miriam's diaper bag purged into the passenger seat, diaper bag gone, all of my random change snatched and the cap Jer had left on the dash also gone. I can't seem to recall any of the other things I may have had in the van that could be missing. I am thankful that I had removed my IPod just the other day, using it while I cleaned my couch. Perhaps Urbn's mishap was a blessing in disguise. Had I not used it last week and stored it in my purse, it would have been in the van at the time of said violation.

Although I shook and cursed the entire time I cleaned the mess, called Jer, Lashelle and my Mom to inform and vent profusely, it really was a cheap lesson to learn. Hell the Children's Place clothes of Miriam's that they dumped from the $2 diaper bag was worth more than the change. The most frustrating thing is it happened in my own driveway. My personal safety bubble had just been ruptured. And according to the community bulletin board home and vehicle break-ins were on the rise. Taking advantage of people feeling secure in their own neighborhood.

And I'm sure I didn't lock it on Sunday after groceries. So now we will be more diligent with locking the vehicles, closing the garage, checking doors and windows to make sure they are locked and setting the alarm anytime there will be nobody home. I for one will be at the next HOA meeting trying to rally the people of my small community to a neighborhood watch, because looking out for each other is our best bet. I will now watch over my shoulder, judging my surroundings in my own driveway as I would a parking lot. Because do we really know what or who is lurking. And it's just our comfort that has invited these evils in to take advantage of our quiet safety zone. No more, I will now have to question anything out of sorts or unusual because obviously better safe is always better than sorry. Not to mention I hate feeling violated.

Feeling grateful.

I try to be humble and grateful for all the fruits in my life. The many blessings that have been bestowed on me are mountains high. Today I am feeling especially special.



Last night we had dinner, drinks, and a movie with Lashelle and Aaron. Despite Aaron's newly accuired title of "Law Enforcement Officer" for the forestry service, we had a really good time. I'm gonna miss those two. I only wish our new "couples" friendship had been founded sooner. But all things have their reasons. We will surely be out to visit them in Cali soon enough. I will stick to my plan for a girls weekend in San Francisco for Lashelle's birthday in May. The boys want to tag along, and we may just have to do that if I can find someone crazy enough to take all three of my kiddos for 3 or 4 days.



Having Lashelle move is all too bitter sweet. Yes I do want my house back. It's been fun but I want Miriam in her own room again. I want to paint it frilly girl colors and put all her toys away. But that in turn means my bestfriend will be moving much further away. Seeing her so regularly, sometimes daily has spoiled me. We truly have an odd relationship as friends go, it's like Yin and Yang I suppose. Even our spouses are so different, yet seem to have a good time together. This year will truly be the start of something entirely new for me yet again. I will no doubt struggle at times, but look forward to the forced growth. I am really excited for them. Envy really. To get to move someplace entirely new. Setting off on an adventure like that with Jer and our little clan. I would love to move out of Arizona! New places and people. But alas our place is here.

So beyond the tears I will be wishing them all the best. Besides, having a vacation spot in Northern California ain't so bad.

Okay, let's try this again.

Another year and I'm am again vowing to blog, oh so much more. It's therapeutic. But instead of a long list of things I WILL do this year, a short list of things I WILL NOT do again/anymore this year;


1. I will stop stressing over money. It will always come and go, that is something I can count on. We are in a good place, stable, and we do not go without. It is undo stress.


2. I will not lose my temper. Really it gets me nowhere and ruins my day.


3. I will not skip yoga or dessert. Life is too short and they both make me sooooo happy and zen.


4. I will not try to be superwoman. I'm pretty damn good, killing myself to do it all faster isn't worth the aches.


5. I will not skip "me" time because I feel guilty. I am on shift 24/7, an hour here or there is a drop in the ocean.


6. I will not commit to things I can not realistically handle taking on.


7. I will not take for granted my children being so young and dependant on me. Really, how long will I get this for? Pretty soon they'll be annoying, ungrateful teenagers, dependant on me. At least now they are cute and timeout and naps are options.


8. I will not give up an opportunity to nap for an opportunity to clean. Nuff said.


9. I will not dwell on the past or spend too much time focusing on the future. I need to spend more time creating in the now.


10. I will not sweat the small stuff, and generally it all is.

Well the list was longer than intended and could have probably used some things I WILL try and do more of this year like spirituality and exercise, but I do that every year. I'm sure I'll look back at this in 11 months and find a new spin to try it all anew next new year. I guess intentions are like assholes.....

La La La..... Not listening.

Today nobody sleeps. I relish in naptime. Whether it's working out, reading or vegging it's about the only "me" time I get all day. So when my boys boycott we all suffer, because as we all know if mommy is not happy, NOBODY is happy.
Aside from my frustrations at this moment, I am very happy in my life. We have more than we need to get by, I enjoy my children (at some point) every day, we are in a place to help Shelle and Aaron out while he's away training (it also gives me a chance to get close to my favorite redhead), Jer and I seem more in touch with each other than ever, baby Miriam is growing like a wee little weed, and summer in AZ is coming to a close. Yes life is pretty good. Oh wait, then there's "the girls". No not Emily and Miriam, but the dynamic duo in the backyard. Lady and Urbn are little by little eating my backyard up. Yesterday Urbn literally ate a piece off the playset. Boredom I assume. And yes, just as the rest of the homes inhabitants' mental health seems to fall on mommy, as does the well being of our four legged fury friends. So she and I will embark on a walk at least once, maybe twice a day. Perhaps as the weather permits we can engage in even more activity that will persuade her to NOT dine on my plants. They can't taste very good so I am left to assume it is a personal attack on me.
So lets tally...... my job duties to date are:
Maid, Chef, Nanny, Teacher, Tailor, Chauffeur, Gardener, Handy Man, Nurse, Personal Assistant (to the hubby), Art director, Mistress (again for the hubby), Plumber, Recreation lead, Psycologist, Dairy cow, and now Dog Trainer. Man am I due for a raise!

The birth of a Miracle!

Miriam Shiloh Elsesser arrived on March 20, 2007. She weighed in a tiny 5 pounds 11 ounces and 18 inches long. She is my little peanut. At just over 37 weeks she's considered a preemie. Her birth was nothing near normal though. I had my regular doctor check-up that morning, Zander woke up ill and I was in a hurry to have my quickie visit/routine checks and be on my way. I never expected my day would turn out as it did. Everything seemed to be fine as the nurse tracked the heartbeat on the doppler and did my weight. I commented to Dr.Villa about less movement, assuming it had to do with the late stage in pregnancy and baby running out of room quickly. He suggested an NST just to check in on things, both of us sure it would just be "routine". I was told it may be a few hours before I could get in for the NST as there were others waiting. I knew that was not an option since I had promised Zander I would be back soon to care for him. I made a quick call to Jer to update him that all was well, they were just being overly cautious. I had this with both of the boys and it turned out both times as normal and I went a few more weeks pregnant with both of them. I even said that I was temped to skip it, and Jer insisted I take the test just to be safe. Fortunately they got me in within 20 minutes.
It all seemed normal as they hooked me up, until the nurse was struggling to get baby's heartbeat. I KNOW what an NST is, I KNOW baby's heartbeat should be loud and proud on this high tech machine. I KNOW this is no doppler, I KNOW what my heartbeat compared to baby's sounds like and I KNOW I am only hearing mine. I KNOW something is not right. I start to feel dizzy as the nurse excuses herself, stating something is wrong with the machine. (I am now trying to remember if I ate this morning. No, pretty sure I skipped it thinking my dr visit would be quick and I could grab something while I was out.) I'm feeling nauseous as the head nurse comes in. She runs the wand over my belly a few times, I hear a racing heartbeat, then it's gone. (Oh good it's there, stupid machine must be screwing up.) She excuses herself after I tell her I'm feeling dizzy and she confirms I look very pale and clammy. She returns with some juice to get my blood sugar up, and Dr.Moratz enters just as I finish chugging it. He runs the wand back and forth and I can't hear anything over the bells ringing in my ears. He pokes his head out the door shouting something, my vision is barely clearing of black spots when he's now in front of me putting my shoes on and getting me to my feet. "We need to see baby on an ultrasound so I'm taking you to Labor and Delivery. We need to go now." I'm too focused on not passing out to ask questions like why are we running out the back door of the office and in through the back door of L&D or why can't we use the ultrasound machine in the office. Nurses are already waiting with the machine in a labor room for us and I'm being moved around so fast I may just pass out now. Someone takes my purse, my shoes are off and I'm on the bed. A nurse is pulling my shirt over my head when I hear the dr saying "I got nothing, tell them we're coming for an emergency c-section now!" Their pulling off my shorts and I'm being checked as a fully suited up surgical team enters and I'm being wheeled down the hall with Dr.Moratz on the bed and my water breaks, I feel the warm gush. He tells me I'm having an emergency c-section, he can't get a heartbeat on the baby, my eyes well up and the lump in my throat is so huge I have to force myself to speak. "Can someone please call my husband?" The lights over my head are blinding. A nurse removes my final piece of clothing, my bra, as they move me to the surgical table and drape me. People are telling me it will be okay, I'm doing a great job (at what? not losing all composure? I don't even really know what's going on!) and to just breath, but I'm pretty sure I'm hyperventilating. A small man, I thing he's an anaesthesiologist, asks me my weight pre-pregnancy as he's strapping down my arms and inserting an IV. I dictate Jer's cell to Dr.Moratz who is calling from the operating room wall, a cold feeling is rushing into my arm and I hear "Hello is this Carrie Elsesser's husband?" as the blackness takes over. No not yet, I want to feel the baby just one more time. I'm not done being pregnant yet!

"Carrie. You're okay, you can wake up now." The unfamiliar voice is so far away. I have to fight to pull my eyes open just a little. I see two masked faces over me. The lights are moving overhead which means I must be moving. "Carrie you're out of surgery and the baby is..." "No, you're not supposed to say anything yet." Okay the haze is pretty thick, but I'm pretty sure this is not a dream and they aren't telling me something about my baby. Oh no, the baby was in distress! What aren't they telling me?!
I can't really assess where I am now, small room with curtains. I have heavy blankets on me, yet I am cold. Nurses are checking IVs and I hear "She's awake, but still groggy. You can see her now." A familiar face pokes around the curtain, it's Jer and although he looks more stressed than I have ever seen him, he smiles. He takes my hand, IV still in. I have to fight to open my eyes and look at him, I fight harder to talk. "How's the baby?" Still not even sure I want the answer. "She's doing fine. We have a girl. " I start to weep uncontrollably and Jer squeezes my hand. The nurse tells him it's normal after surgery to be emotional. Normal? I just had my child ripped from my womb, the last thing I knew was there was no heartbeat, there was nobody there with me going in, I could only hope that they reached Jer otherwise nobody knew what was going on, then a nurse won't tell me about my baby. What about this is "normal"?
While the clouds are clearing for me Jer leaves to get HER. We have a HER, and she has no name. We thought we still had time, guess all those dreams are coming true. A nurse filling in my charts tells me how they had no heartbeat on her going in. Her cord wasn't wrapped, everything looked normal. She was unresponsive at first but after cutting her cord and a bit of oxygen she perked right up. Better out than in I guess. I get her weight and length. Tiny, but healthy. Mom comes in looking, well mom-ish. She's smiling and stroking my shoulder as I tell her all I know about the situation. I must have taken a few years off her life today, I know a few have been taken from mine.
Jer returns with the littlest sweet angel I've ever seen. She has some short, fuzzy brown hair and is sleeping. I want to nurse her, I want to bond. My body hurts so bad, but just holding her, smelling her head makes me forget.
The next few days are a haze. I slept little do to the only real pain I remember, the air trapped in my shoulder joints. I am in awe of my peanut daughter. Nurses repeatedly tell me what a miracle I have. No known reason for her distress, simply luck that her decelerated heartbeat was caught on a NST. A phone call from Dr.Moratz after I returned home, just to tell me what a miracle we have. He admits that he thought it was too late and that he expected her not to make it when we were going in to surgery. It's not known for how long she was in distress, we do know she was breech; turned from the previous dr's appointment.
I have a 4 inch scar above my hairline to forever remind me of that day. It was 18 minutes from me walking through the back door of Labor and Delivery til her birth. I never take for granted the little things. I knew my connection to a daughter would be different, but she is also our miracle. She is known as the miracle baby at my OBGYN. I can hardly bear to leave her, since I came so close to not having her at all. She is loved dearly and I'm sure will be spoiled to the Nth degree. I will never be ashamed or bitter about my scar. It humbles me each time I look at it or run my fingers across it's smooth pink surface. It is a reminder of what I almost lost. It also reminds me why our family is complete with Miriam, I just could not bear 9 months stressing over what "might" or "might not" happen.

What's in a name?

We have gone round and round about names for this baby. Even though we do not yet know the sex, we still feel we should be prepared with names come birthday. We have many option for boys that we like. Little does Jer know that if we have a 3rd boy, I will finally have my Micah. Micah what? Really doesn't matter, Jer pick the middle name, but Micah he shall be. Other names we have tossed about are Mason, O'ren, Eleanor, Shiloh, Gillian, Kia but it's hard not knowing. We try to attach ourselves, but what if we come up with the perfect name and get the opposite sex? With just over a month to go and a new house and puppy the clocks a tickkin'.
I keep having the same dream over and over: The baby has arrived. I pass her off and keep telling each visitor that "It's a girl, but she has no name." I get more and more frustrated each time I have to say it. Do I really KNOW it's a girl. Is that what my body is telling me? Or am I just stressed over not having a name we are totally in love with yet. Both of the boys were named by 6months, yet here I sit on the verge of my 9th month with little more than ideas. A huge part of me is hoping for and would be relieved by another boy; even though the rest of the world seems to think we were "trying" for a girl. I am over prepared for a boy, including the name....Micah. Someone said to name a girl Micah, but I always pictured a little blond-haired boy with big blue eyes named Micah. NOT A GIRL. Perhaps that's why the baby in the dream is female, because I've named a boy. Having a girl would mean all new baby supplies and the dreaded naming conundrum.
let's just hope the sight of her inspires something. Perhaps she will just look like a ...... well it will come to me. Jer named Urbn before we ever got her home. Maybe there will be a nurse with a special name or maybe April, since she will most likely come in April. Or a movie with an outlandish character we just love, gods hopefully something. Then again, perhaps it will come to me in a dream.