Yep, it's Confirmed.

No, I'm not pregnant. If you would have asked me that last week, I would have told you I wasn't sure but alas, I'm not. :0) Anyways...

Today I confirmed that I was NEVER made to be a full time mother to 6 children under the age of 5. Don't get me wrong, I adore my own children and would happily add more a few years down the road, but taking 6 children out in the heat to drop off one and kindergarden and then drag the other 5 around our small town (which seems very large while you're driving with 5 children under the age of 4) to run errands that should have been done last week, well, it's just not fun. It's miserable actually. At one point, Ryder was screaming (mad), Payton was crying for Ryder to "be quiiiiiieeeeeettttttttt.....", the 17 month old was screaming (for fun... you know, those short, HIGH pitched squeels), and the 4 and 4.5 year old were fighting about who's air to breathe. I kinda wanted to blare the music, pull my hair out, cry, scream, and laugh all. at. the. same. time. I now am also reminded why I never go anywhere during the week with all the kids. Not sure how I forgot in the first place.

That's all.

"All Done" and "More"

I thought I needed to follow that post with something a little lighter, so here you go! We taught Payton sign language as a baby for "all done" and "more". He did NOT catch on until AFTER he could say both. It must have something to do with his gigantic head... ;) Ryder, on the other hand, just caught on! He'll be 1 on Monday but his momma didn't birth a dummy I guess! Last night he was devouring chicken and rice and after the first helping was gone, I heard "mo! mo! mo!" accompanied by the sign for it! I said "do you want more?" and he just smiled like "She got it!!! she understands!" He started kicking his legs and feet as I got him more. After that 2nd helping, he did it again. I was so proud! Then, at his 3rd helping, he didn't finish it and I heard "duh! duh!" followed by the sign for "all done". The sign for "all done" is somewhat difficult for a child (think: "jazz-hands" but not) so we simplified it with a simple "wave" with his fingers. He's doing great! I'll post pics here soon!

Sombering Realization

I've been noticing, more frequently than not, that I do NOT know how to have fun. All I know is to be "responsible" in every situation. I don't know how to be a "kid" and just enjoy the situations life brings. Tom and I had been talking about a different, somewhat unrelated issue a few nights ago and I burst into tears because what we had been talking about made me realize what was REALLY going on with me. The initial topic of conversation had NOTHING to do with me! Funny how God does that... Over the last few months, I've been really trying to figure out WHY I don't like to go do things that are different, unknown, or possibly even dangerous (certainly not life threatening--just "risky") and it took that conversation to bring it to the surface.

Thru my emotions that night, I realized it's because I was robbed. I was robbed of a childhood from the age of 10 on thru adulthood. I had to grow up way too fast and deal with a disease that NO ONE should ever have to deal with, especially a child. I had to face fears and struggles that no child should EVER have to look straight in the eye. I had to be around adults. Be responsible. Be brave. Be strong. I didn't get to do careless adventurous things like skiing with my friends. Gosh, I barely got to go sledding! I can't golf. I can't ski. I can't snowboard. I can't play baseball. I can't play basketball, tennis, or football. I can't, I can't, I can't... My physical limitation keeps me from them. I've accepted this and have positioned myself around this life. However, these are the things that I imagine are full of fun, adventure, and just pure "play" time. Childish playtime fun that I miss(ed) out on because of the past. Certainly NONE of those things are childish, but you can ACT like a child doing them and NO ONE cares. It's all about having fun. Did I go thru "normal" things tweens and teens go thru? Of course. The awkward "middle school years" curse, the "I have a crush" period, learning how to drive (and how TERRIBLE I was at it!), learning and instrument, figuring out where I fit in the social ladder... The list goes on! However, there were so many things I wasn't "allowed" to do because of my arm that I lost out on. Those fun, "dangerous", living-life-on-the-edge things that every child should have the opportunity to experience. I grew up knowing those were "dangerous" for me, even though for any regular human being, they're pretty much harmless. I wasn't allowed to be irresponsible and "risky". IF anything was ever to happen to my reconstructed arm, it would/could cost more money than I've made in my entire life up to this point, not to mention the pain and the fact that I have 3 children and a husband to take care of...

To sum it up: if there's a REMOTE possibility (literally, a .01%) of a risk of me getting hurt, I can't/shouldn't do it. That's what I've learned/believed in the last 18 years. As I continue searching this, seeking it out in order to take care of it and LET GO (literally), I'm learning that I've applied that deceptive motto to the most of my life, even in the little things. I'm learning that I make decisions out of fear. Fear of getting hurt, either physically or emotionally. I don't like to do many things because there's always a "risk" of getting hurt. This all sounds so ridiculous but it's so... me... right now. It's an awful place to live in. I've believed this lie long enough. I will conquer it.

So, for those of you around me (a few of you KNOW who you are...), I'm asking you to "push" me out of my comfort zone, taking into consideration that literally, I CAN'T swing a golf club or baseball bat, but CAN have so fun.

TO MY PARENTS: I want you both to know that you are NOT allowed to feel any guilt for this! It's ugly. It's weird. It's me--for now. You did the best you knew how to keep me and my arm safe. You followed what you felt God was speaking to you and for that, I'm eternally grateful. I can honestly say that, as a mother, I would do the same thing, knowing that in the long run it would be a better solution for my child. I love you both and am so thankful for you. :-)

Family Pictures

Here are some family pictures we took while ALL of us kids and grandkids were together earlier this summer. SO fun!



Grandpa and Grandma and the grandbabies--ALL boys!



Our cute little family :)



Everyone! And Lucy the dog... She's not very photogenic. ;)

Another Poop Post... Beware. ;)

No... this is NOT all we talk about. However, when you're potty training a 2 year old, it does become a topic of conversation at times. Have a listen (read):<
Preface: About a week ago, Payton ran inside and exclaimed in a LOUD voice: "I have go poop mommy!". So, like always, we run into the bathroom and he works it out. When I knew he was done, I said: "Good job buddy! Poop is SO happy in the toilet. NOT your undies or the back yard." He looked at me like I was a freak and went on with his day. I assumed he forgot all about it. So, here's today's conversation:

P: Mom! I have go poop! (he says the same thing every time--for reals)

M: Ok! Let's GO! {run into bathroom}

P: You help me on twaaaalet?

M: {help him on the toilet} Push it out buddy!

P: {grunts and then smiles} I did it!

M: YAY! Good job dude!

P: Mom, is my poop happy? Will you look at it to see?

I couldn't help but laugh. Seriously. HOW did he remember that!?

Payton-isms...

I just need to write more of these down... They're SO funny!

Payton has started to use his imagination thru play:

P: Mom, I'm Iron Man! (in a growling voice)

M: That's awesome! Can I be Iron Man too?

P: Okay. We both Iron Man.

M: What do we do first?

P: umm... fight the bad guys?

Here's another...

P: Mom, I go to King Soopers. You need somethin?

M: umm... Yes. I need milk, eggs, and crackers.

P: {looking confused} I don't have that!?

M: Well, go to the store and get it!

P: {walking into the kitchen} It's all gone. You don't get anything.

And, a sad one to finish it off...

M: Payton, did you go potty in your undies? {there's a big wet spot...}

P: no.

M: umm... let me feel. Ohhhhh.... You did.

P: {frowns}

M: Let's go to the bathroom. You know pee-pee belongs in the potty!

So, we headed into the bathroom, took off his wet clothing, and he sat on the potty. When he was done (he had nothing else to pee....), I stood him up and spanked him. *Let me preface his spanking with: He KNOWS to go in the bathroom and can go by himself. He just didn't want to because he was playing. He breaks his play daily to go to the bathroom so this was just a lazy accident... If I thought he had actually tried and just not made it, he would NOT have gotten a spanking. So, after the spanking, here's what he said:

P: {tears rolling down his face in a crying voice} You gave me a swaaaaaaaaaattttttt..... I go pee-pee in potty next time. Sorry mommy.

My heart broke. But, I think he realized that we mean business with the potty in the toilet and not his undies!

Thankfulness and A Dream

I've had THE hardest time in the last 2 years keeping my house clean. I simply HATE cleaning--especially bathrooms. I'm ashamed to admit that it's been a month (or more) between bathroom cleanings before. I know, gross. It was a constant struggle for me to clean my house, although I LOVE the way it feels when it's done. My kitchen always managed to stay "clean" but not CLEAN. In the last month, with lots of prayer, I've managed to keep my house clean! I decided that the selfish part of me just needed to die. It wasn't fair to my husband or kids (or me, really...). I prayed for a new vision of what it looked like to raise a family. Kids (and a husband!) will follow by example. How could I expect Honour to keep his room clean if mine wasn't? How could I expect Payton to help clean up his toys if I didn't clean up my own? It's not to say that they don't "have" to if I don't because they still totally do, but I find there's less of a struggle to get it done if we are all doing it together. I'm thankful for the renewed sense of vision in my life and am looking forward to this new season for us. I think Tom is too! :)

I was thinking this morning... Well, I think this a lot actually... How great it would be to have unlimited amounts of money. Everyone dreams of this I'm sure, but my dream isn't to drive a nice car, live in an extravagant house, have a maid, personal chef, and a nanny, and not have to watch another kid in my whole life, but to live exactly the way we are now--able to pay our bills and enjoy a few "extra's" every month. Nothing more. Both Tom and I's dream is to be able to bless other people who are living a life of constant financial struggle like we have the last few years, whether it be from a job loss, sickness, or just situations that cannot be helped. I don't believe money can buy happiness, but having lived thru 2 years of financial stress, I know how much relief it can bring. What would it feel like to be able to write a check and pay off someone's mortgage when they had just lost their job so they didn't have to worry? What would it be like to provide a reliable car for a struggling family? What would it be like to "financially set" your overworked parents so they could enjoy the things that are REALLY important? Too bad you have to play the lottery to win it... However, making smart financial decisions now can only enable us in the future to achieve the goals (both financial and personal) we've set for our family. We've decided to take on this motto: "live like no one else so later you can LIVE like no one else." ~Dave Ramsey

It's so true...

And now, the kids are getting crazy-hyper in the house, Ryder just woke up, and I'm off to the reality of lunchtime, diapers, potty training, cleaning, and loving on my kids. :)

Two Year Olds are SO Funny!

Here's a few of the conversations we had this week. Nothing particularly amazing about them, but they're just funny coming from a 2 (almost 3!) year old. ;)
Driving in the car, singing:

"God is big-ger than the, booooogie-man... {insert 5 second pause}... and my dad" *This is the Veggie Tales version of the song, except for the dad part. ;)

We have a gate up at the stairs so I don't have to chase Ryder up them all day long (although my hips might thank me if I did...). I was coming down the stairs, where Payton was patiently waiting at the bottom to be lifted over the gate so he could come downstairs. Here's the conversation:

P: What are you doing, mom?

M: Coming down the stairs.

P: Oh! Be careful! Don't step on me mom!

M: Thank you Payton. I almost did.

P: MOOOOMMMMM!!!! That's SO silly.

HOW do they come up with these things?!

I Beeped Mom!

So, for those close to us or who have spent ANY time around us, you'll know Payton is ALWAYS hungry and has no problem sharing that fact in the most whiny voice he can: I'm HUUUUNNNNNGGGRRRYYYYY mom!" over and over and over. I can remember my mom saying "If you say my name one more time, I'm going to change it and not tell you what it is!". Well, I feel the same way about this phrase--except I can't change it. I literally probably hear it 30 times a day... So, I started setting our kitchen timer for every mealtime, including snacks. He tries to say "I'm hungry" (which is usually means he's just bored considering he either had breakfast or a protein filled snack within 30-45 minutes....) and I say "Oh! The timer hasn't gone off yet! It's not time to be hungry!". It usually shuts him up. Today was different:

P: I'm HUUUUNNNNNGGGGGGRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYY.....

M: Sorry buddy! The timer hasn't gone off yet!

P: {frowns}

M: It's almost time though! You're gonna make it!

P: BEEEEEEEEEPPPPPP!!!!!!!! Mom! I beeped! Time to be hungry!



Kids.

It just gets better!

ANNNNDDDDDD.... 1 more for today.

I have upped my daycare to full time again. This certainly isn't my favorite thing to do, but right now, it's necessary. Today, I have all boys: my 2 (Honour's 1st day of school is today), a 17 month old, a 3 year old, and a 4 year old. Yep. I have 5 boys in my house. This morning was filled with bumps, bruises, scrapes, and LOTS of outside playtime. After lunch, ALL the kids started getting cranky so I decided to sieze the moment and be hopeful for some "me" time. I told the 3 and 4 year olds to sit on the couch for rest time and I'd put on a movie and was getting ready to put the 3 little's to bed. Here's a timeline of how naps/rest time went:


1:03p: take 17 month old upstairs to bed.

1:05p: Come downstairs to find 3 year old asleep on the couch.

1:07p: Make Ryder a bottle, feed him, and put him to bed sans bottle.

1:15p: Come down to get Payton and put him to bed.

1:18p: Turned on cartoons for 4 year old

1:23p: 4 year old asleep. TV's going off!

1:25p: Ryder's not yet asleep, but playing so I leave him. He usually takes a 3 hour nap.

1:35p: Ryder's voice is escalating to a frustrating cry. Leave him.

1:54p: Ryder is now screaming mad that I haven't come for him.

1:55p: "Me" time is over. Ryder is up.


So, I had about 20 minutes to sit and do something today. I was hoping for more and was feeling SO accomplished for getting all 5 boys to sleep (I thought...) Ryder's just going to take a late nap I guess today because he never went to sleep. :( Oh the life of a mommy!

Adventures in Potty Training

So, I thought I should probably write down the few "advetures" I remember us having over these last 4 months or so, especially after my last post. Some of it is just too funny to not write down! So, here's a few...

Adventures in Potty Training, Part 1

"When your child says he has to go to the bathroom 15 minutes after he had previously gone, he probably does"

Thru a LONG series of events, we ended up at the baby department in Nordstroms. I like (well, love) Nordstroms (hellllooooo SHOES!) but the prices... eh, I could go to Target for the same thing at 1/3 of the price. Anyways, we were looking at diaper bags (Petunia Picklebottom for anyone wondering...) and Payton announced he had to go. I was finishing up and told him that he'd just went a few minutes ago (literally, less than 15 minutes earlier and he hadn't had anything to drink...) and we'd head there in a minute. Him and Honour were playing, but just next to me and not being unruly at all. So, a few minutes passes, I finish up, and look over to find the leg of Payton's pants wet and a big puddle on the floor right in the middle of Nordstroms! umm... If it was K-Mart, I don't think I'd be so mortified. The lady behind the counter looked at me as if I was a white trash mom that just let her kids make a mess and not care. Awesome. I cleaned it up and we swiftly left Nordstroms. I haven't been back since.

Adventures in Potty Training, Part 2

"Poop can be scary"

As we were driving down the freeway at 75MPH (that's the speed limit here folks!), I hear Payton crying. I look back and Payton is arching his back as best he can and holding his bunz. Here's the conversation:

PAYTON: Owie! Scared! Monsterrrrrrr coming!!!!

ME: Do you need to poop?

PAYTON: No poop in undies mom! MONSTER COMING! (still holding his bunz)

ME: Is your poop a monster?

PAYTON: Poop. Monster. Scary.

Poop can be pretty scary for a 2 year old when it's not in the toilet.

Adventures in Potty Training, Part 3

"There's always water to drink"

I had just given Payton a cup of water. About 3 minutes later, it was all too quiet... So, I went to look for him. I found him pouring out water into the toilet. Not a bad thing, EXCEPT, his mouth was wet and he said "Look mom! Water! I drink it." I can only imagine HOW much he had drank out of the toilet. At least it was flushed... Gross.

Poop and More Poop

Okay, if you know my family (namely, my mom) at all, you know that the topic of poop is something talked about (in an appropriate way) daily. So, it only seemed right to talk about it. That was also your disclaimer... If you don't like to hear about/talk about poop, just skip this one. ;)

First of all, I'm proud to announce, Payton is COMPLETELY potty trained. We were putting him in diapers at night but just ran out a few nights ago. I had forgotten to get them from the store so when I put him to bed, I just told him we were all done with diapers and that he needed to keep his pee in and let it out when he woke up. And, he did. :) He's done it a few nights now and it's a B-E-A-UUUUUtiful thing! Here's where the poop comes in...

Once summer hit, we started giving Payton the choice of PEEING (notice the caps... Poop ONLY belongs in the toiliet and he knows that) in the potty or on a tree in our backyard. We do NOT let him pee in public--ever, unless it's a public bathroom. ;) However, in our own backyard... That's different. And, ants make great target/aim practice. So, he was doing really well with it. However, last week, I had a daycare child come running in to the house saying "Rachael! Rachael! Payton pooped!". I knew he was outside but figured it was a poop accident in his undies, which is usually not an issue, but he was still learning so... I headed outside to find my child--half naked. Ummm...

Here's the conversation:

ME: Payton, where's your undies?

PAYTON: Over der... Der wet.

ME: Ohhhh nooooooo!!!!! That's SO sad!

(Enter daycare child into coversation)

DAYCARE CHILD: Payton POOPED!

ME: (looking at Payton) Payton, did you poop?

PAYTON: Yes.

ME: Where?

PAYTON: On a tree.

ME: (seriously?!?!?!) Show me where.

PAYTON: Over der... I show you.

(Enter a 2nd daycare child)

DAYCARE CHILD #2: (SQUEEL) EWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!! I JUST STEPPED IN POOOOOOOPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PAYTON: She found it!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gross.

And there's this conversation we had about a month ago:

(Someone had gone #2 in our downstairs toilet and not flushed... I live with 4 boys, 3 of which are potty trained. It remains a mystery as to who did it, but it's not a surprise.... I was doing laundry and didn't realize the toilet needed to be flushed)

PAYTON: Mommy! Poop!

ME: Yes. That's sooooooooo disgusting.

PAYTON: Disgusting. Mommy, is it poop?

ME: Yes. It's poop. We need to flush the toilet.

PAYTON: F-lush the t-wa-lette?

ME: Yes. Please do.

PAYTON: (insert hand into toilet). Mommy, I touch it first? It feels yucky!

Again, gross.