Kierstyn Ann

I'd like to introduce you to a special little someone....  Her name is Kirsten Ann.

Now, before you go dancing around your room and high-fiving yourself, you should know--She's not our baby.

Kirsten is my niece's daughter, who will be making her debut appearance around mid-August.  Yes, at the tender age of 35, I'm going to be Great Mamie (to which my mother has been replying, "Would you stop saying that?!  This makes me a great-grandmother at the tender age of 62!"  Kirsten is also bumping my grandmother up to a great-great-grandmother!).

While I'm not sure how I feel about the "great" part added to the name my sister's children gave me so long ago (has it really been 23 years?), I do know that I'm in love.  I think Kirsten is the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen.  Well, next to her mom and aunt--my two nieces--that is!

When Katie visited with us the other day, she gave me the wonderful gift of laying my cheek on her bump so I could tell Kirsten how much I love her.  Much to my delight, I received a few flips in response!

My prayer for my great niece is that she will grow up knowing nothing but love, grace and acceptance.  That she will grow up knowing God's love, and knowing Him through a relationship.  My prayer is that she will be happy and healthy, and that she will learn to dance to in the rain.

I love you sweet Kirsten Ann, and I can't wait to meet you.

General Update

Howdy!  It's been a while, I know.  Just popping in to let you know we're above water and alive!  I've had so many ideas running through my head for posts (granted, most of them are soapbox-type posts, so when I have the energy to climb on up there, you'll know!), but just haven't had the energy.  We've been dealing with new issues with Noah, and Avery has been sick for the past several weeks.  Pretty much, when the kids have passed out, so have I!

Spring is full *achoo* bloom here in Virginia.  Everything looks so pretty, but it's bringing such misery to my youngest.  We have a little family of robins living in our porch and it's been kind of sweet to listen to the babies.  Mama works hard to protect our yard and porch from any threats (that would be us)!  It's been kind of funny to hear her yelling at Shawn from her perch in our front tree as he tries to mow quickly and disturb her as little as possible!  We are doing our best to respect her and her family's living space, but I think we've all finally reached an understanding now that she realizes we don't mean any harm to her babies.  I tried to have a heart to heart with her, as moms, because I do crazy things like that, and I think we reached an unspoken agreement.  I guess that means we can finally use our front door again!  With the nicer weather, and enticing sounds of the baby robins, Jethro has begun trying to escape again.  I put his harness and name tag back on him, should he escape and become lost. Avery, of course, is thrilled with the kitty's new carry handle. Jethro, not so much! Shawn and I have settled back into our routines, and I'm realizing just how good my week away from them was for all of us.  Coming home and finding me clinging to the end of my rope was one thing, but living at the end of my rope was an entirely other thing for him.  Over Noah's Spring Break, it was Shawn's realization that I would need a break from the boys, so he suggested he work from home twice during that week so I could "work" at the center.  It was wonderful to have some time away, and it's been wonderful for me to have Shawn fully understand what goes on in our home (not that he's an oblivious or absent parent, but until you are the one taking care of things full time and on your own, you can't really appreciate it).  We had a nice, quiet Easter and Noah just got back from a Scout Camporee this weekend.  Oh, and Wilbur had a great time helping the Easter Bunny fill the eggs for the kids to find.

Noah seems to be doing well on the Zoloft/Focalin combo.  Last Sunday was Family Sunday at church, and we noticed a 180-degree change in him from past Family Sundays.  Noah was quiet, still, semi-focused and completely in control of himself.  We beamed with pride over his behavior change and made sure to complement him plenty.  Our Children's Ministry leader always comes up with some sort of "keep busy baggie" to hand to each child on Family Sundays; her hard work and dedication to our children never cease to amaze me.  This past Sunday's project was a BINGO game; the children were to listen to Pastor Nick's message for the words on their BINGO sheet, but were not to call out BINGO during the message.  I had to suppress laughter when she made sure she had Noah's attention while giving the instructions, then asked him to repeat them back to her.  She knows my child so well!  We're having some issues at home with attitude, lying, nocturnal wandering, theft of sorts and other less specific topics.  I knew there would be sibling issues when we had Avery, but there are times I just don't understand how they get to the lengths they do (the other morning Noah was kicking Avery in the face because he thought it was funny.  I had to get out of the shower to put a stop to it when I heard Avery screaming.  Things like this happen rather frequently).  I don't want them to have the type (lack) of relationship that I have with my sister or Shawn has with his brothers.  I want better for my children, but I don't know how to foster that in them.  Noah was doing well at school, or so I thought, until I got an email from his teacher this week.  I mentioned to Noah Wednesday night that I hadn't signed his agenda so far that week, and Thursday morning I learned why:  Several notes were in there from his teacher about his behavior.  He'd hidden the agenda under his bed, telling me that he'd forgotten it at school, telling his teacher he'd forgotten it at home.  The lying is getting out of hand and I'm just so discouraged.  I don't know how to reach him about this.  It is heartbreaking to not be able to believe a single thing that comes out of my child's mouth.  He admits that when he tells his classmates and fellow Scouts these lies (isn't a Scout supposed to be trustworthy?) that they ignore him now.  So what's the draw?  I just don't know what else to do anymore. Noah has yet to really grasp any sense of responsibility for himself or his actions, and that in itself is a major hurdle in being able to teach him anything, I think.  Until he wants to learn these things, it's just not going to stick.  And right now, he seems to think he not only knows better than us, but he knows everything.  He's made a good friend in our neighborhood, on the next street over, which has been both a blessing and a little bit of a not so good thing!  His new friend is a good kid, and they do have quite a bit in common.  They seem like two peas in a pod and make quite a pair!  Noah will not only be starting middle school in the fall, but the youth group at church as well.  Shawn and I had some concerns about Noah starting with the youth group, as he is just not mature enough for some of these things.  I have to say, God has taken care of our concerns in the form of new leadership and some other changes.  It's always such a lesson to me to let go and let God when He takes care of things like that!


Avery has really been struggling with his asthma and allergies, so we took him to a specialist last week.  We were really pleased with the doctor, her course of action and the office in general.  She ran 25 scratch tests on Avery, and he reacted to everything but milk, wheat, guinea pigs and dust (does that mean me and my housekeeping, um, skills are doing a good job of raising his immunity?!).  Unfortunately, one of his highest reactions was to dog hair.  For now, we're hanging on to our dog, but we'll have to see what else happens, especially if Avery doesn't get better even with the new medications.  The doctor also ordered x-rays of his sinuses and adenoids/tonsils, out of concern for the number of sinus infections he's had.  Fortunately, those came back clear, so we're wondering if maybe he just wasn't on the right medicines and things will begin to clear up now that he is?  She increased the dosages of a few of his meds, changed one and added another.  We go back in a month for more scratch tests and to see how he's doing on the new medicines.  As Avery's mom, it's been horrible to have to watch him go through this.  The look of "Mom!  What are you letting them do to me?" as I had to help hold him still for the scratch tests nearly killed me.  Even though I know we have to go through this for the answers and solutions we need for his health, I don't ever want my children to look at me like that again.  Having to listen to him cry and not be able to comfort him was awful.  I couldn't even scoop him up to comfort him when they were were finished because it could've smeared the antigens and given skewed results.  Knowing that we'll have to go through again in 3 weeks just isn't good!  Once he had a juice box, bunny snacks and Daddy's "piepad," he was doing better and most was forgiven, but I was still seeing that look in my mind.

Other than that, Avery is doing well.  I find myself saying the strangest things to him ("Avery Owen!  Your penis is not a gun!" tops the list, I think) as he grows more capable of forming sentences and thoughts.  I'm still having trouble with the fact that he'll begin preschool in just a few short months.  He can pedal his tricycle and refuses help now, lives to hassle the kitties and is adjusting well to his medication schedule.  In all, he's a perfectly normal almost 3 year old (ugh, really??  Almost 3???)!

Not much else going on here.  I've been able to take on a few more responsibilities at the center, and as always, I'm really loving my time there.  I know I will always receive more than I could ever give there. I'm going to brag for a minute here, so just bear with me--after 35 years of having straight-as-stick hair, perming it in the hopes of having something close to pretty, and just plain arguing with my hair, I finally have natural curl!  My aunt gifted me with a much needed haircut, so now I have a head full of healthy, curly hair.  No clue where it came from, but the speculation is either hormone changes and/or a "gift" from chemo.  Another "anniversary" of sorts is coming up, so I'm not doing too well with that.  It's so hard to believe it's been a year already.  I cry at the drop of a hat, panic when I hear sirens.  What makes it more difficult for me is watching what has happened to my good friend's family after this tragic accident.  I can only love her and pray, I can't make it stop or make her wake up to what's going on.  I've learned so much in the past year, and even just in the past few months.  A lot of it would sound morbid to any "normal" person, but to me, it's stuff we've all had to learn to consider.  I am grateful for the grace and mercy I am granted anew each day, the same grace and mercy our Savior grants my good friend, for which I am also grateful.  I know He won't let her go.

Anyway, I suppose that's all for now, here in left field....

Super Hubby

With me in Maine, my husband has had to be on his toes this week.  He took vacation in order to have undistracted time with our boys, and I have to tell you...  I think the dear man is tired! 

First, let me tell you that yes, I realize my husband is among the VERY FEW who would do this for his wife.  I completely understand how blessed I am to have a much-needed week away from my family so I can have time with my extended family without the 'interruptions' of my children.  My husband truly blesses me in so many ways, beginning with understanding how hard I work in our home as his wife, mom to our boys and the countless other roles I fill. 

Shawn took on my role completely this week (although I think he put his foot down at wearing my apron!), from chauffering Noah to his various appointments and activities, to cooking meals and doing the weekly shopping.  Now, my husband is a very hands-on dad to begin with, but to 'see' him fully take on both of our children so I can do something that is very important to me has been a gift. My grandmother has repeatedly said what a good man Shawn is to let me do something like this (of course, I laugh at the word "let" just a little, as if my poor husband ever stood a chance against his stubborn wife!), saying, "Most husbands and fathers just aren't good like he is!  They wouldn't know what to do with their children!"  Yes Nanny, I know.

I've laughed during several of our phone conversations this week--not at Shawn of course, but with him.  One night he called me back after putting the boys to bed so we could have a few minutes of uninterrupted time on the phone; "Geez," he said, "It's like playing Whack-A-Mole, trying to put them to bed by myself!  It's definitely easier with both of us here!"  Another night he was taking care of some personal business as we talked, and I said, "Really honey?  That couldn't have waited?"  He replied that the boys had kept him so busy all day that he hadn't had time to take care of these things during the day!  I laughed and said, "Really?!  Hmmm.  What's that like?!"  And yet another night, he actually fell asleep while we were talking!  He tossed Avery in the shower with him most days because he couldn't figure out how to keep him safe and out of trouble while he showered.  He asked me what I do (now that Avery knows how unlock and open doors, and chain locks are a moot point, given that he climbs and moves furniture).  I said, "Well, I stick him in front of a tv show and hope that keeps him occupied, safe and out of trouble, then thoroughly inspect the house when I get out!"  Shawn did say how much he's loved being able to spend that valuable during-the-day time with Avery. He taught Avery how to pedal his tricycle this week, and there were a few other things he would have usually missed out on by being at work during the day.

As I've always said, my husband gives credit where it's due, so he acknowledges that being Avery's and Noah's mom--and Shawn's wife--is not always an easy job.  He also acknowledges that most days it's a thankless job.  This week, I heard my husband mumble something about not being able to do my job with the finesse with which I accomplish it (seriously though, most days, 'finesse' probably isn't the word I would use!).  When I left last week, he was upset because he felt I wasn't giving him enough credit for being able to take care of his sons.  I told him I know he absolutely is capable of doing so, and he does a fine job of it, but I didn't think he realized how tired he was going to be.  Before I left, he went to the hardware store in search of materials for several home-improvement projects with the concern that he would be bored while I was gone.  I don't think he has that concern any longer!

Shawn has always had the understanding that my job isn't always easy, but I think after this week, he really "gets" it, finally.  He will now understand why, at 9 pm, when I say I'm going to bed, it's not because I don't want to be with him, but it's because I need to be able to function the next day.  He will now understand why, by most Friday afternoons, I've just had it, I'm done, I'm cooked, I'm fried.  He will now understand why I need him to take Noah to Scouts, why I'm so exhausted by 3 but I have to find a second wind as the second half of my day is just beginning when Noah gets home from school, or has appointments, or on the days Avery doesn't nap.  Now he understands why I get upset if he doesn't call to let me know he's running late from work (ie, why I depend on him to be home), and why I'm just plain exhausted when I've had to "single mom it."   Shawn understands all of this because he's now experienced it all firsthand.

Super Hubby has done a superb job of being a great husband and dad this week, but it sounds a little bit like maybe it's time for Super Mommy to come home and start working her magic again!  I think Shawn will be so happy to see his co-workers on Monday morning, they won't know what hit them.  And, if you want the truth, Super Mommy is ready to be home.  I've had a great time here, but I miss my three favorite guys, their loves and even all their craziness!  And really, what mom is able to relax and enjoy herself knowing her youngest is crying and asking for her?!  Yep, it's time to go home!

A Lesson Learned, and a Visit to Grandmother's House

This past weekend was to be the weekend I went on the women's retreat with the women from my church.  Notice I said was.  I didn't make it.  For all of my arguing with God and foot stomping, I ended up here in Maine with my mom and grandmother.  This coming Friday is the first anniversary of my grandfather's death and I decided it was more important to come up to spend some valuable time with my grandmother, rather than go on the retreat. 

I did learn a very valuable lesson in writing my post about the retreat, and I'm curiously wondering if that was more God's point than for me to actually go.  I learned I'm not alone in my fears, worries and feelings surrounding rooms full of women and retreats!  I don't know if that was more a major relief for me, or for the women who responded to my post via email.  It was just an amazing revelation for me.  And guess what else I learned?  I am less fearful of going next year, and God willing, I will be among the first to find a roommate and turn in my deposit!  It's always a good feeling to find out there are others "like us" out there, that we're not alone; to know that someone else across the room is feeling similarly to the way we may be feeling.  Kind of like the unspoken Buddy System!

So, here I am at my mom's house, quietly whiling the days away for the next week with my grandmother.  Yes, I said quietly.  I am minus my children and my husband.  Not even a potted plant to take care of!  For the first time, I flew on an airplane by myself (I read a big people book for two whole hours completely undisturbed!), and for the first time in 11 years, I do not have a child wrapped around my leg, hanging off my arm or sitting on my hip.  I told my best friend that I feel like the world's worst mother: I left my children for the first time ever, for seven days, and I felt like dancing! Now, that doesn't mean I wasn't crying when I left them in the airport!  Looking at their little faces and their tears as I walked away was just torture.   No one is demanding my attention, or constantly calling "Mom!  Hey Mom!  Mooooo-om!"  It is so quiet.  And okay, maybe a little lonely!  I do miss my family, but I need this time with my grandmother.   The past several mornings, I've taken over an hour to enjoy my coffee on the back porch while watching birds swoop in and out of the many birdfeeders in the yard with my grandmother, just enjoying the sun reflecting off the water.  My mom and I have enjoyed each other's company doing various things, and both of them have enjoyed the many stories I have about my boys.  I have visited with aunts and uncles, and I'm anxiously waiting to meet my cousins' new babies (four new additions in the past year!).

In the background though, is the silence and quiet that my grandfather left behind.  I miss him, and being here is more difficult than I thought it would be.  This week I will make my lasagna that he loved so much, but he won't be here to enjoy it. Last year was the last time I'd ever hear him sing my praises as his favorite cook.  His chair on the porch has been left just as it always was, his side table still has his books, camera and chest sitting on it.  He is a silent presence, at least for me.  I am reassured that he is healed, that he is healthy and whole now, and I know that he is with our Heavenly Father.  But that doesn't mean I miss him any less.

My grandmother is calling, time to get back out on the porch!  We've got more birdwatching to do, and more quiet to enjoy!

"Ghosts"

I was given a reminder today of just good my life has really turned out to be.  I know I have been given a great life, but today's experience served as a reminder of just how great it really is, especially when I think about what it could have been like.

I have been blessed with an incredible husband who adores me and would never think of hurting me, two wonderful little boys whom I adore, amazing friends and a great church family.  I have been saved by the King Himself, and I'm granted His grace and mercy on a daily basis.  Even on the days my body does not want to work or cooperate with my brain, it does what I ask of it so I can do most of what needs doing.  My best friends are more like sisters than friends, truly the women I've prayed for most of my life to be surrounded by for the rest of my life.  My boys are gifts who give me reason to get out of bed each day.  And my husband....  Where do I start?  I love him, that's all there is to it.

I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, a vehicle that safely transports myself and my children, and a kitchen overflowing with supplies to not only feed my family, but other families as well, and to keep up with whatever baking concoctions my little heart desires.

Even on the most sideways of days, I've been gifted with more than I could have imagined.

If I had chosen what was behind Door #1, instead of this life I've been blessed with behind Door #2, I really don't know how well (or safe) my life would have turned out.

Today's reminder also served as a whisper of just how far I've made it to leave certain things, and people, in my past. Emotionally, I have achieved things and made more of myself than I would have if I had chosen Door #1.

Needless to say, I'm grateful I went with Door #2.

Preschool

The day Avery was born, I was looking at his tiny little hands and his beautiful little fingers, just in awe of my new son.  Then I started crying, emotional hot mess that I was!  The nurse came in to check on me and asked what was wrong.  I told her I had realized that one day, Avery's tiny left finger would have a wedding band on it and he wouldn't be my little boy anymore.  Obviously used to dealing with hysterical postpartum moms, she patted my shoulder and said, "It's alright dear.  How about if we just get him breastfeeding nicely before we start worrying about things like that, okay?"

That was 2 1/2 years ago.  Avery has gone from sweet smelling baby to stinky little boy. There are days I want to stomp my feet and say, "This isn't fair!  Shouldn't you still be only 2 1/2 days old?!"  Then of course, there are the days I start counting down until he leaves for college!  As long as it took us to have him, it just seems as though the world should have the courtesy of slowing down just a bit so we can savor our moments with him a little longer.  Instead, it feels as though time has flown, and continues to fly.  We've been through so much for him and so much with him.  He has hurdled over milestone after milestone, and doesn't show any sign of slowing down.  He still needs me, but he is slowly becoming more independent.  I watch him grow and blossom, and I love what I'm seeing.

But...  He's my BABY!


This week I turned in the preschool registration form for my baby.  Another milestone, more growing and blossoming...  And another step away from me.

Can you tell I'm not handling this well????

I know he will love it at this school, and that he will do well.  I know the teachers and director well, and Avery is already familiar with the church, as this is where he goes to daycare. It's a good place, full of good people with big hearts.

Over the next several months, in preparation for preschool, the rest of Avery's baby-ness will fall away.  We'll potty train, move to a big boy bed and lose the pacifiers for good.  His vocabulary will continue to grow, he will outgrow yet another set of pants and shirts, and he'll drink from a big boy cup without spilling (maybe).  He will officially go from toddler to little boy.  My husband reassures me though, that like all boys, Avery will never outgrow his need for me, his mommy.

He will always be my big little boy.

Progress, Sort of

The riding facility where Noah rides is a therapeutic center which specializes in helping children and young adults with all sorts of diagnoses.  Some of the riders have learning disabilities, some have physical disabilities and some of them are sick.  The horses, instructors and volunteers all play key roles in helping these kids and young adults conquer whatever issues they have going on in their lives.  All of us parents share commonalities: helping our children, occasionally fighting against the world and just wanting better for our kids.  For 45 minutes each week, we just want as much normal for our kids as possible.


In my world, helping my own child includes teaching him to use a "filter" between his brain and his mouth, and teaching him compassion.

Noah's riding schedule changed this time around, so we've had a chance to meet some new people and make some new friends.  One of the students who rides after Noah is a little girl who is winning her battle against cancer.  I say little, but in reality, she is probably a few years older than Noah.  Either way, she's a sweet girl and I always have to resist the urge to hug her and her mom.  I have to be honest with you, as a mom, it hurts to see her.  These are the sort of moments I question God and want to shake my fist at Him: "It's not fair!  Give it to me!  Give it to one of us!"  There are so many of us moms who would step up in this young girl's place and take her cancer for her.  I struggle with this situation, and whatever the lesson here might be, I really do.

Anyway, back to the Noah part of the story!

Noah came up after his lesson while I was talking with this young lady and her mom today.  Inside my own head, I was silently willing my son to please remember to use his filter.  Even though at this facility, we all have children with differences and we are more understanding of each other's children than other parents might be, I still cringe expectantly whenever Noah opens his mouth.  I just never know what he's going to say!

Today though, I was extremely proud of Noah.  As the young lady and her mom made jokes about her wispy, baby-fine hair (and I silently willed Noah to remain quiet), Noah commented, "So, you're a survivor?"  My first thought was, "Yes!  Whew!  Good thinking, Noah!"  The young lady beamed up at my son, and her mom smiled and replied, "Yes, she is definitely a fighter and survivor.  And we're so grateful for that!"

On the way home, I asked Noah if he had any questions about cancer.  I kind of expected him to have some of the same larger-than-life questions I have about childhood cancer, but I have to remember that Noah takes things at face value, and we've taught him that you just don't question God.  Besides that, he was nose-deep in a new book.  He didn't have any questions, but we did talk about how he approached the subject and that I thought he did a good job.  He said, "Well, I realized it would have been rude to come right out and ask her if she has cancer, so I used a technique I call side tracking instead."  Wow!  He came up with that all on his own!  We also talked about treating people like people, rather than by their diagnoses.  I asked him how he would feel if someone asked him what's wrong with him, why he gets to ride the horses at Rainbow, then explained that even though he approached the situation with his new friend in a very good way, it was still kind of like asking her that question.  I gave him a few suggestions, such as asking her which horse is her favorite and why, what grade she's in, if she has a favorite book, movie or subject in school.  He said, "Okay, I'll remember that next week."

Then his nose dove back into his book.