Don't Cry Over Spilled 7-Up

If you know me, you know I am not a fan of messes. And if you know me, you also know that you sure couldn't tell that by looking at my house. I do try very hard to keep a clean house; Justin works hard every day and that's one thing he wants most, to come home to a clean house. With three kids (four counting Justin), I find it next to impossible to have a "clean" house. It is "straightened up", but never magazine or pinterest perfect. I prefer to call it lived in.

Anyway, let me elaborate on the kind of messes that stress me out. I am not a "let's get messy" kind of mom. A painting project with my two year old rarely happens. Play-doh pieces all over the floor? No thanks. Kids like to eat Play-doh and get it all slobbery, I hate the smell, and they love tearing it into tiny pieces and throwing it on the floor. Sand boxes are the worst. And I don't like snow days. (Something I've had to get over thanks to Colorado).

It's not only the fun, messy things I don't like, but the normal messy things too. Potty training, for example. While I would love to buy diapers for one less child, I really hate cleaning pee and poop off the floor. Don't worry, I still potty train my kids. Gabrie is in the process right now. But, I must say, it's not my favorite thing to do. (However, it thrills me to no end to see the excited and proud look on her face when she makes it to the toilet).

I do let Lillie (16 months old today!) feed herself. She doesn't really use forks and spoons yet, but she's a pro with her fingers. She will get every single crumb; except the ones she throws on the floor or rubs into her hair. Her sister taught her how to wear her cereal bowl like a hat. Luckily, there are only a few drops of milk left in the bowl. (If her hair feels crispy, it probably isn't hair spray). And Gabriella uses regular cups -- no lids, no sippies. I love that she is coordinated enough to handle a big girl cup, but you can imagine the probability of spills is pretty high also.

Nathaniel isn't a horribly messy kid, I suppose. When he was young, Justin had to teach him how to play in the dirt. When I potty trained him, I taught him to wipe --shaking the little droplets just wasn't gonna cut it for me. His preschool teacher thought that was hilarious, and that I would yell across the playground to him "don't get your clothes dirty!". Honestly, we're probably lucky I didn't create a junior version of Howie Mandel.

So today was one of those days. Actually, lately has been one of those days. Stressful days, filled with messes, tantrums, spankings, fighting, whining, crying, and a steady decrease in patience and energy. I have felt my sanity slip away continuously every day. Why has our daily routine of sleeping till 8 am, eating cereal, working out at the gym, playing until lunch time, napping until 4 --the kids, not me, and then dinner, bath and bed been so much more stressful than usual? I do not know, but it has. When I lay it all out like that, I realize it sounds ridiculously easy! If only the day were really that simple though.

At lunch today, I let the kids have one of their favorites -- Cherry 7-Up. I watched them guzzle it down in between bites of cheese pizza. Just then, Gabrie tipped her cup over, but caught it too so it only spilled a little. She said "uh-oh, I'm all wet now!". Instead of getting grumpy, like I usually do about a spill, I just told her it was OK. What sparked this calm reaction from me?

Lately I have come to the realization that my patience level is nowhere where it should be. This isn't new; I've known it for a long time, but today I decided I absolutely have to make a change! I'm incredibly lucky that we're in the position that I'm able to stay home with my three sweet kids. I get to homeschool them, watch them grow and learn, and spend every minute of the day with them. I don't have to wake up early and get them ready for school and daycare, I don't have to go 8+ hours without seeing them. Most moms aren't that lucky! I definitely don't want my kids' memories to be of their mom stressing out and losing it over "spilled 7-Up". I want them to remember all the fun we have together.

A wise woman once said, "don't sweat the small stuff". I think a mess here and there can be considered small. As frustrating as it is to me, it really isn't that big of a deal. I will do my absolute best to start seeing things that way. I have found that any time I peer into the future, and think of possible scenarios of messes or annoyances, I am able to react much more calmly. So, that's what I'll do, from here on out. I will not let a little mess upset me. UNLESS the entire kitchen has been flooded with 7-Up! And if you know my kids...that's not outside the realm of possibility!

I am ready for every mess that tomorrow holds. I might even get out the paint and Play-doh.  

Gift From God

Today, I think back to a time in my life that made little sense. An emotional time. A confusing time. A scary time. An uncomfortable time, filled with awkward moments and a lot of tears. Tears of hurt, pain, and of immense happiness. As negative as some of those feelings sound, it was still one of the happiest days of my life! It was the day I gave birth to my perfect baby boy, Nathaniel Joshua.

It was a Monday morning, the day before his due date, and I was scheduled to be induced. I had contractions the entire night before and the wee hours of the morning...the scheduled induction wouldn't have mattered. He was on his way! I realize now, I should've told someone I was in labor. It never crossed my mind that it could be too late and I could end up giving birth in my room! My 17 year old mind thought "There's no sense in waking anyone up for this. We have to be at the hospital at 5:00 am anyway." So I just laid there in my bed, enduring each contraction while curled up in a little ball, trying to sleep in-between each one, and thinking "I'm about to be a mom" and "this hurts so bad!".

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Finally 4:00 am came. I got my things together, got dressed, and I think I even put makeup on (haha...that was a big waste!). I went to tell my mom goodbye and that she should come to the hospital as early as she could because I didn't think he would take long. My dad laughed and said "I'd be surprised if you have him before noon!". A father of seven had done his fair share of waiting at the hospital!

I hugged my mom goodbye, and my dad, my brother, and I headed for the hospital.

Around 8:00 am, the doctor finally came in to check me. I was at an 8, so he broke my water. Then my mom and sister, Hannah, came in to see me. We joked between contractions about funny things Hannah had said when she was in labor with Noah. (Who was born just 9 months before). As painful as labor is, I can always still keep my sense of humor.

At 9:00 am, it was finally push time.

At 10:04 am, I held the most perfect 6lb. 13oz. baby boy. When the doctor handed him to me for the first time, I felt overwhelmed with fear, responsibility, change, and perfect love. This was my baby! A baby I had felt tickle my belly button with his tiny finger, and jab me with his elbows and feet for the last 7 months. A baby I had only seen in black and white, and was the size of a peanut at times. Here he was, in my arms, and in living color.

 

It's amazing to me that it's been seven years. I've watched him grow into such a handsome, sweet boy. I watched him learn his ABC's in preschool and listened to him sing "Twinkle-twinkle, Little Star". I watched him walk to his kindergarten class, every single day...with a tear and a smile until he went through the door. I remember the day he was too embarrassed to hug and kiss me goodbye, because his friends were waiting to walk down the hallway with him. It broke my heart, and I kissed him anyway. Sometimes, I can still see and hear him as a toddler when he talks to me. (He had and has such a funny little accent).

This year, he played his first season of baseball, he'll be starting 2nd grade, and he's working on losing his first tooth. (A moment that I'm sure will bring tears to my eyes!) Seven years seems so long ago; we have changed so much since he was born. Looking back at pictures though, I can still see my baby. And I looked like such a little kid! But that day, I was changed. I don't regret being such a young mom. The situation wasn't ideal of course, to say the least, but nothing but good things have resulted from having my sweet boy. It wasn't always easy, but it has always turned out good. I barely even remember my life before him! "Nathaniel" means a gift from God and I'd say he has definitely lived up to his name!

Happy Birthday, my sweet Nathaniel.

Hit That Ball, Bubba!

Last Saturday morning, I thought the stomach bug that plagued our house for over a week was finally over, until Nathaniel ran to the bathroom with his hands over his mouth. "Not again", I thought. Especially not today! Once he was finished, I sent him to his bed to rest. He started to cry, "I don't wanna miss my game!". He was heart-broken. And it broke my heart for him.

This is Nathaniel's first year to play t-ball. He has never been the most athletic kid; as a toddler he had poor coordination and it took him quite a while to master catching a ball. He hasn't really even shown a huge interest in sports in the past, but so far, he loves playing and gets very excited on game day. On this particular Saturday, he was supposed to have a game right before lunch. He had been looking forward to this game for over a week! Especially when he found out the league would be giving away free hot dogs and chips. All week long, he said "Aren't you glad they're gonna have hot dogs at the game, Mama? You won't have to cook dinner all day!" He's so precious.

Now, a little background on my family. They (usually Justin and Nathaniel) can throw up and then immediately after, be just fine. A "Perkins' puke episode" as Ma would call it. It has happened enough times now, that I know if somebody pukes, they aren't necessarily sick with something. It's strange, I know. I waited a while before letting the coach know we wouldn't be there just in case this is what he was experiencing.

After a couple hours, he seemed to be feeling better. (Nathaniel can be "slightly" dramatic when he thinks he's sick). I decided to let him choose if he'd play or not, and we discussed the possibilities of puking in front of his teammates and getting embarrassed in front of everyone. He decided he was up to it, so we got ready and headed out to the field. I checked on him throughout the game to make sure he was still feeling ok, and to rehearse what he should do if he felt sick again. Turns out it was just a Perkins' puke episode.

 

I'm SO glad he decided to go! Not only do I just love watching him out there, but he did such a great job! He paid attention, made some good hits, and even got a boy out at second base. It was one of his best games of the season! And we got free hot dogs. :)

Sweet Baby Lillie

My sweet Lillie has been sick for the last week. The miserable-for-the-whole-family kind of sick. I won't go into all the gruesome details (like the subtle stench of puke that won't go away or like waking up next to a puddle of diarrhea because her diaper had leaked), but I have washed sheets and couch cushion covers far too many times in seven days.

Today she seems to be feeling better, however this isn't the first time I've thought so this week. We've been to the doctor twice so far. The first time, it was decided she must have some kind of virus and should be over it soon. Six days later (today), I took her back and he thought it may be more bacterial or parasitic. So....they sent us home with three test tubes and a little jar for, ya know, collection... It's now after 4 pm, and of course there's been nothing to collect. I suppose it'll be okay with me if I never have to collect "things" for testing, but it would sure be nice to know the cause of this horrendous experience.

One good thing about the last week is that I've gotten to take advantage of lots and lots of cuddle time with Lillianna. Like any sick baby, she has wanted to be held and loved on constantly! She even found a more pitiful way to say "mama" so she was sure to get extra attention. Luckily, Nathaniel and Gabriella are older and busier throughout the day and don't mind that she's been getting more "love".

Our Lillie Billy, (at one point she only had a couple teeth and huge gaps, so Justin thought this nickname was appropriate, especially since we're from Arkansas... ya know, hillbilly) has been such a blessing. At first, news of her coming made us panic a little... Justin was in school, working part-time, I couldn't find a job worth taking, and we were BROKE. And Gabrie was still so young; we weren't "ready" for another baby yet. Luckily, all of that was temporary. Justin finished school, got two job offers (we really struggled with that decision!), and it was almost time to welcome our third baby into the world.

Finally, the week of her due date arrived! (I'm not a very pleasant pregnant person). Monday I had a false alarm. We spent a couple hours at the hospital to make sure everything was okay. I think it was just wishful thinking. Nothing on Tuesday. Wednesday, contractions ALL DAY LONG. That was fun. Wednesday night they got a little stronger. I just knew this had to be it! ALL NIGHT LONG, I laid in bed, trying to get some sleep next to my snoring husband. Of course, that didn't happen. Those blasted contractions...not close enough to have a baby, yet too close to get any rest. I woke Justin up a few times to let him know my progress. He woke up just long enough to acknowledge and then rolled back over to snooze. :) Around 1:30 am, I couldn't take it anymore. Contractions were about 6 minutes apart and absolutely excruciating. I woke Justin up again and told him to call the hospital. He said I should wait a little longer. HA! EASY FOR HIM TO SAY! I think I waited about 5 more minutes...

Once we got to the hospital and checked in, and taken to an exam room, it was about 2:45 am. By the time they decided I was really in labor (like I didn't know), they took me to my room and I was already at a 9! I can remember thinking she seemed to hurt more than the other two kids. She actually made me scream. At one point, we were very scared because suddenly the nurse told me, very sternly, to stop pushing. Turns out the cord was wrapped around her neck, twice. Very scary.  Finally at 3:12 am, we welcomed Lillianna Mattison into the world. She was a perfect 7 lb 7 oz.

She's the baby of the family, and she plays her part well! She's sensitive, dramatic, and loves to be spoiled. At times, the whole family HAS to sing to make her happy. So far, she is an easy-ish baby. Basically always happy, eager to please, clingy sometimes, and so very lovable. She fits right in! Everyday is a new, exciting chance to learn her more. I can't wait to see more of her personality as she gets older.

And, in case you were wondering, it is now after 10 pm and we went all day without me getting puked on, or having to change a yucky diaper. I'm very excited to say the test tubes are still wrapped in their package! Special thanks to my Honey Bun, who so graciously lived in a not-so-clean house this week, and was a great help with puke messes and diarrhea diapers after he got off work. I don't think he even gagged once! :)

We Will Never Forget

It's that time of year again. June. The month when so many parts of my life were drastically changed. Ruined even. I miss the days when June didn't have a whole lot of significance to me. Except for it being the month that one of my older brothers was born, nothing in June really meant much. Especially not June 9, 2009. Four years? Can that really be possible? I suppose it is possible...so much has happened since that day. I've gotten married, had two more kids, and moved 800 miles from home. I have three more nieces than I had that day. My (then) two-year old is now in 2nd grade and reads and writes, has a great interest in dinosaurs, and collects cool rocks for his geology-themed room.

Yet, as many things that have happened since June 9th, I can remember that day better than almost any day in my life. I remember every detail.

That handsome man was my big brother, Matthew, and my baby Nathaniel. I remember this moment in time so clearly. Matthew lived in Tulsa, and from time to time, we (this particular trip was my mom, a few siblings, and nieces and nephews) would go there to visit him. Usually we spent the day shopping or going to the zoo, and once he was done with work Ma would treat us all to dinner. This time we met him at Tulsa's Incredible Pizza. 
 
Matthew was a Geologist and a cyclist. The family would go watch his races, whenever they were close or when we were able. It was always so exciting to see watch him go by. I remember feeling so sad for him if he didn't do well. We always went to dinner afterwards.

 

Matthew or "Shew-shew" as I usually called him, was killed by a drunk a driver. He (along with two cylcing friends) was riding along a highway in Sand Springs, Ok. on a beautiful, sunny afternoon in June. One of his friends was also killed. It still seems unreal. Even while cleaning out his little apartment in Tulsa, it was unbelievable. I'm still asking "why?". The woman who killed him is now in prison....she won't be there long enough. I'm still trying to figure out how to forgive. That is what we're supposed to do, right? Easier said than done.

 

 

This picture was taken outside of Famous Dave's Barbeque in Rogers, Ar. We had just finished watching him compete in the Joe Martin Stage Race in Fayetteville, Ar. We went every year because it was so close to home. This was Mother's Day of 2009 and the last time I saw him.

 

Matthew was only 34 when he was taken from us. I wasn't near finished getting to know him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



"Mama So Mean" and Gabrie's a Princess

Tonight Gabrie is acting as my writing partner. The little Sweetie is supposed to be in bed, but her father, who is now sleeping (and snoring) quite peacefully on the couch, in a moment of weakness (which happens far more often than it should...he's wrapped around her tiny finger), decided it would be ok if she came downstairs and slept on the couch while he watched tv.

Of course, not even five minutes into it, Justin was sound asleep and Gabrie joined me on the floor with the laptop.

 

I know, a child her age should be in her own bed right now, but every once in a while, I don't mind the company. I'm not an early to bed kind of person (something I regret every morning). Whether I'm getting a head start on tomorrow's chores, watching episode after episode on netflix, or playing candy crush saga, I just can't usually bring myself to go to sleep at a decent time. Anyway, I enjoy this occassional one-on-one time with my kids. (It seems that time alone with each child individually is becoming harder and harder! I can't imagine how people with 5+ kids do it).

 

So tonight it's me and my Gabriella. (Who is also snoring peacefully on the couch now.) Today, this girl tested every single piece of patience in me. Ok, she does this everyday, but today was grocery day so it seemed a little more stressful. And I only forgot to use two coupons, so I'd say it was pretty much a success...but that's another story.

 

 I think most parents could agree, each child holds a special place in their heart. You don't have more or less love for any of them, but each one is just special to you in a different way. I can't begin to describe how special each of one of mine is to me! However, I can think of one word, especially after our shopping trip today, to say about Gabrie, and that word is CHALLENGING.

 

From day one, Gabrie has been a challenge. She was a challenge to give birth to (taking a short 21 hours of excruciating pain and misery... may not sound long to some, but my first took only 2 hours, so a long labor like that was a shock, to say the least.) As a newborn, she wouldn't sleep in her own bed, she was allergic to the cheap diapers, she even had to have a more expensive brand of diaper rash medicine! Almost nothing has been simple with Princess Gabriella. (she actually calls herself this). Oh, and if it can be climbed on, she WILL climb on it.

 

As a toddler, we noticed her speech wasn't progressing as it should. She is plenty smart, but just couldn't put it into words. At 21 months she began working with a speech therapist. At the time, she was ranked to be at a 15 month old level. Not horribly behind, but definitely in need of therapy. For me, it was a really disappointing discovery. Of course I was relieved that nothing more serious was wrong, but I can't express how discouraging and sad it was for me to not know what my baby wanted to say. She clearly HAD things to say, she just didn't know how to say them.

 

When we started therapy, her talk sounded more like the nonsense jibber-jabber most babies start out with. Justin and I understood maybe 10% of what she said, and other people understood even less than that. After six months, Gabrie jumped to the level of a 24 month old, and I could understand about 85% of what she said, while strangers could understand about 50%. Now almost three months later, Gabriella is exploding with conversation. We won't have another evaluation for another three months, but if I had to guess, I'd say we're close to understanding 95% of her words, and strangers are probably at 75%. It has been amazing to see the transformation, and especially amazing to understand what she has to say. I'm excited to see how the next evaluation goes and extremely grateful for the deeper bond we've developed with her, no matter what challenge each new word brings.

 

Her favorite things to say lately: "Mama so mean" and "Gabrie sad" any time she gets in trouble. And whatever you may try to distract her sadness with, she "doesn't like". Occassionally she calls me "Mommy" and I don't know why, and she's started calling Nathaniel "Bubby" instead of "Bubba". (He hates it! I think it's kinda cute.) And Justin went from being "Dada" to "Daday", then back to "Dada", and now "Daddy". Lillianna is "Nana".

 

She keeps us on our toes. She might possibly be the most misbehaved child ever, in the entire history of the world. But despite all her rotten-ness, she is also incredibly sweet. Her face just says "love" when she looks at her brother and sister....right before she pinches them for no reason. But seriously, she really is a sweet girl. I think we'll keep her, mess and all.

  



Thankful

As I sit here at my kitchen table, I watch Nathaniel and Gabriella be goofy with each other, giggle together, tell on one another ("Gabrie's putting noodles in her drink!"), and all three kids screaming playfully in unison. I can't help but just be happy, even with my ears ringing from their high-pitched squeals. I can't help but thank God that I'm still able to experience all the joys that come with these three energetic, exhausting kids.

I'm thankful for the days Justin gets home early(ish) and we get to have dinner together. Some of my favorite times with him is when we just sit at the table together after the kids have finished eating and moved on to make messes elsewhere; we catch up on the day, share funny or meaningful experiences, laugh, and dream about our future.

Only about three months ago (or so), Justin seriously considered requesting a transfer to Oklahoma City. He works many long hours and rarely even has a day off, so he wanted to get us closer to family. I don't think a 13 hour drive by myself would ever be possible, nor would he ever allow me to travel that far alone with three kids, but a 3 hour drive, I could handle.

I was excited about the possibility of being closer to "home" again. So excited, I started searching the internet for houses. I even contacted a friend there and asked her to keep her eyes open for any rental houses. Cara replied, and was happy to help us find one. The next time we spoke, she told me there was a house for rent in her neighborhood. We were excited at the prospect of being neighbors and our kids playing together.

Justin and I decided we should wait it out a little while longer. Maybe things at work would get easier, or a better position would come along. So, we waited patiently. (Although, I have to admit, I was disappointed!)

Monday, May 20, 2013, Cara's neighborhood was hit hard by the tornados. Her sweet family lost everything, except each other. Plaza Towers Elementary is where two of her three kids attended school. The most amazing part of their story (to me), is that only a couple months ago, Cara felt led to start home schooling. Thank God, she had been obedient!



Photo Courtesy of Chris Landsberger/The Oklahoman/AP

 Two days later, Justin was offered a promotion. He accepted. His new position will be less stressful and will allow him to spend much more time with us, and possibly even more time for me and the kids to spend with family in Arkansas, while he trains in Houston.

Most days we take life for granted. But today, and in the future, I will be thankful for even the littlest of blessings. And whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed by the days' messes, the constant need to play "referee" for brother and sister, and sleepless nights with baby, I will remind myself "it could always be worse".




P.S. Read Cara's blog...she's amazing. cyakel.blogspot.com