Just Do It

Just do it? But Jen, yesterday you told us to "Just Say No", I'm so confused!

And confused you should be.... However, what I'm telling you to do today, isn't so much me telling you how to do something as it is me asking how you do something. Even more confused, now? Sweet! Mission accomplished...

Not really, I'll just get to the point. Have you ever told someone something like, "Hey, I really feel like crap about myself today" only to have them respond with "You just need to love yourself" to which you reply "but how do I do that?" and they answer with "You just do it"? (Note: I'm fairly certain that there needs to be more punctuation in this paragraph, but the quotes throw me off and I've never been great with grammar.)

Or have you mentioned to a friend "I'm having a hard time seeing my blessings for all of the crap that seems to be going on" and they reply with something similar to "Just do it"?

Here's my question back to them, "HOW?"

How do you change the ay you are thinking? How do you make yourself love yourself? How do you train your brain to think positively when all that pops up is what's going wrong? How do gain self confidence when you tend to be on the mousey side but good at what you do so you should be confident? How do you gain the strength to stand firm in your "no" or in your pricing or in you stance, whatever it may be? How do you gain the confidence to stand up for yourself?

Well, I'll tell ya how....

Just kidding!

I have no idea. I was hoping you all would have some answers other than "You just do it."

So much for me imparting any wisdom on you.

to the moon and back,

Butterfly Kisses

My oldest son (it still sounds funny to me that I have to specify oldest and youngest) has the longest eyelashes ever. Why do boys get blessed with long eyelashes? Probably because God knows they aren't going to destroy them with all the gobs of mascara.

Anyway, he still gives me butterfly kisses and they are the sweetest. So gentle, so kind, so caring, so loving.

His butterfly kisses pretty much sum up his personality. He is one of the most compassionate 6 year olds I've ever met. His heart truly breaks for those who are hurting and all he wants to do is help everyone.

One thing I was worried about when he started school was that he would become jaded and hardened to the world. There are mean kids out there and I was terrified they would hurt him or his feelings or worse yet, burrow their way into his head and change him.

Thankfully, that hasn't been the case, yet. Part of it could be that we start every morning asking him if he's going to be a leader or a follower and he always responds "leader". When we ask him if he knows what that means, he says "It means that I will do the right thing even if everyone else is doing the wrong thing."

I'm going to take a moment to brag because positivity is always needed and, quite frankly, it's my blog I can brag if I want to. Here are some things that he has done lately that make me burst with pride for him.

• Moose was telling me about a classmate named Isaac.
  Me: Did you tell him your brother's (Junior) middle name is Isaac?Moose: Well, actually, at first I told him I didn't want to be his friend because he's bad. (I explained why that wasn't nice) Then I told him about Junior and that made him happy! Then I told him that before he does anything, he should turn around and look at me and do whatever I'm doing and he won't get in trouble. 
• There is a little boy in his class that has been having a problem with wetting his pants. I said "you don't make fun of him do you?" He replied, "No, I usually walk him back to the class to get clean clothes." He told me "Mommy, I told him like you tell me. 'You have to listen to your body. If your body is telling you that you have to go potty, then you need to go so you don't have an accident.' And you know what mommy? He didn't have an accident for a few days!" 
• He came home one day and was telling me about a little boy in the other kindergarten class who has a disease (Moose is 6 he didn't know how else to explain it). I asked if he mean the little boy who has down syndrome and he said yes. He had lots of questions, would he ever get better, could Junior get it, if mommy had it would she get better, etc. I explained to him that the little boy would never get rid of the "disease", but that he might get better in that he might pick up some verbal skills, he might learn to be better at playing and such.
  
  The next day, Moose had a laundry list of questions, so I did what any good mom would do and I googled it. I found the answers to pretty much all of his questions. Moose said, "I can't wait until Monday so I can ask him to play with me, but I'm so afraid he won't want to play with me." I explained to him that he just has to keep asking every day because this little boy isn't used to being around other kids so it may take him a while to warm up.
  
  Monday morning came and on the way to school I asked what he was looking forward to and he said "Asking that little boy to play with me!"
  
  When I picked him up from school I asked what his favorite part of the day was. He said "Well, my least favorite part was not being able to play with that little boy because we had music today and I didn't get to see him." 

This kid melts my heart. I hope and pray he keeps all of these wonderful qualities and doesn't become transformed by the world.

to the moon and back

Just Say "No"

Yea, yea, yea... it's been over a year since I've blogged.

Recap of the year before I officially start writing this blog:

• Son turned 5
• Got pregnant
• Went on vacay
• Had someone total my car
• Bought a new car
• Had a super rough pregnancy
• 3 sinus infections
• 1 upper respiratory infections
• 3 yeast infections (TMI)
• 1 bacterial infection
• Severe heartburn
• Chronic sciatic pain
• Preeclampsia
• Low amniotic fluid
• Had to replace our washer
• Had a super cute baby boy
• Fought jaundice for 2 1/2 weeks
• Now dealing with his possible hernia
• Had to replace our couch that was worn out from sleeping on it through 5 months of pregnancy
• Had to replace our washer again
• Son started kindergarten
• Son turned 6

Tada... That's it in a nutshell (I think I covered everything)

Now on to the post at hand... Just say no!

To what you ask?

• Drugs!
• Cigarettes!
• Alcohol! (Ok, maybe not wine)
• Caffeine! (What!?! Wait did I type that??)
• Throat punching that annoying coworker!

Those are all pretty easy to say "no" to, right? What about those difficult questions?

• Can you pick up an extra shift or two?
• Can you lead this group at church?
• Can you ask for donations for that school thing?
• Can you collect goods and deliver them?
• Can you wash my car?
• Can you babysit my kids?
• Can you do an emergency tracheotomy?

Those are a little harder to say "no" to, right? Well, maybe not the last one, unless of course, you're a surgeon. And, honestly, why wouldn't you be? This is a very educated blog that attracts very educated readers...

I don't know, maybe it's just me that has a hard time saying no. Why is it so hard???? I've heard it said "Every 'Yes' is a 'No' to something else", but I don't even think I get the opportunity for an inadvertent "no". Somehow, the more I try to pair down my schedule, the busier it gets.

Don't get me wrong, busy is great when it comes to my business (thank God for help!), but it's all the other stuff that consumes every minute of every day! There's the normal routine stuff school drop off and pick up, baby drop off an pick up, work, homework, dinner, laundry, lunches, etc... But then there's the school events (storybook parade, fall festival, fundraising, etc). And then there's church groups women's ministry, small groups, family events, etc...

But Jen, doesn't God want me to do... uh... stuff and things? (Yes I did just make a Walking Dead reference) Well, yes, He certainly does, but He wants you to do them with a good heart and if you are all angsty and bitter about said deeds, then He wouldn't approve. If your "yes'" are taking away from the important things (glorifying Him, your family, friends, career... probably in that order, too), what good are they.

Being busy and making people happy just for the sake of being busy and making people happy, is no way to live. Really, I'm not one to talk, I'm totally writing this for my own sake and if you all get something out of it, too, then fabulous. How about we find something to say "no to this week?

Also, if I ramble, I'm sorry I'm not sorry.... And if I've loosely written on this topic before (maybe here?), get over it, that was years ago and I'm too old to remember.

to the moon and back,

Sense of Entitlement

Something happened the other night, wait... strike that. It didn't just happen, it slapped me across the face and made me realize I take waaaaaaay too much for granted.

And it started with a futon.

Jon and I rearranged our back room/dinning and decided that a futon would be a great way to not only make it roomier, but also add extra sleeping area. So, I did what anyone would do and turned to the swipswap pages on facebook.

Not too long after posting that I was searching for one, someone posted that they had one. She sent pics and I set up a time to go look at it. I asked what she wanted for it and she said to make her an offer.

Let me explain something... I hate making offers on anything. 1. Because I feel like I'm gonna get screwed and offer more than it's worth. 2. I feel like I'm going to insult the person selling the item. (PS don't even ask me to negotiate. "Oh, you want $20? Let me give you $25, I don't want to put you out.")

So, I wrote her back and said, "How about $40 is that ok? I really don't know what to offer."

She immediately wrote back, "I'll take that!"

I should have known then that something was up.

The following night, Jon, Moose and I loaded up in the truck, put the address in the GPS and headed for Deland. Here's the thing with GPS's, they don't tell you what kind of neighborhood it is. We may have chosen not to go.

The more we drove and the closer we got we realized that this may be a bad neighborhood. Then, we had to turn at a little run down convenience store. Across the street was a group of about 10 men who looked questionable to say the least (now, I'm sure I was jumping to conclusions and they were holding a road side bible study, but I digress...). We could literally feel them staring us down as we drove by.

We came to the neighborhood to turn into. It was a trailer park (not a mobile home or modular home development). The trailers all looked as thought they had seen better days. There were children playing in the streets and dogs roaming around.

I'm ashamed to admit that I looked at Jon and said "Is it too late to turn around?"

Then I saw her. The trailer she stepped out of was one of the smallest and seemed to be one of the oldest. She was all of about 18 years old and was preceded by her pregnant belly. Her boyfriend (and the father of her child who looked equally as young) was with her as was her dad.

Jon looked at it first and came back to ask what I thought. I said I'd look at it, but we would buy it no matter what.

When I got out to look at it, she said "I'll take $35 or $30, really whatever you guys want."

Jon handed her the $40 and we loaded it up and left.

As we drove away, I looked at Jon and said, "We don't even know how blessed we are. We take so much for granted."

We aren't entitled to anything that we have. In fact, we don't deserve any of it, especially if we aren't using it to serve others.

The pastor at a church we are attending said, "The money in my wallet is a tool to change the world, not buy more comfort." How are you changing the world? It doesn't take much. 

I'm not saying that you should be giving away everything you have, but are you using every penny you earn to buy your own happiness? The name brand purse, the fancy shoes, the expensive car, the over priced coffee (my word, did I just say that?)... Are you constantly searching for that one thing that's going to fill you up? You aren't going to find it until you find out how to serve others and give with a joyful heart. 

to the moon and back,

Why is it so difficult?

Here is a picture of happy coffee because I my brain isn't functioning
at 100% and I can't come up with a creative one to suite the topic.

Here's my question, why is it so difficult for me to spend money on myself? I'll buy stuff for Moose, for Jon, for my family for my friends, but when it comes to me, I feel terribly guilty.

Especially if its a big a purchase. So, why?

Why can't I treat myself?

What if I spend a lot of money on something and then don't use it? What if it's not what I really want, but then can't return it? What if it doesn't last? What if it doesn't work? I could use that money on something more important. It would be selfish if I purchased (insert product here).

How could I spend good money on a yoga membership, or a pedicure, or a new (used) car, or a new computer, or a facial, or new clothes, or a haircut/color when we need a new roof and we need to remodel our master bath, and we need to redo our utility room, and we need to repair my car and Moose would love more toys and Jon would appreciate more bike stuff and I could put that money towards bills and I shouldn't be irresponsible, blah, blah, blah and this and that and so on and so forth....

I wish that just one time I could do or get something without feeling a ridiculous amount of self-inflicted guilt. Would it kill me to be slightly irresponsible? Probably not, but then again, what if something comes up and we could have used that money for something else?

Ugh.... I'm done venting now... Thanks to you, my loyal readers for listening while I have a "poor me" moment. :)

to the moon and back,

I am made

i am made for smiles

made for laughs 

made for giggles

i am made for hugs

made for snuggles

made for wiggles

i am made for dirt

made for rocks

made for balls

i am made for scrapes

made for bruises

made for falls

i am made for running

made for jumping

made for biking

i am made for digging

made for building

made for hiking

i am made for soaring

made for flying

made for reaching

i am made for loving

made for caring

made for teaching

I am made for helping

made for doing

made for giving

I am made for serving

made for aiding

made for living

to the moon and back,

Consider it Joy

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:2-4

Not just joy, but pure joy. Why? Because trials make you stronger. 

It's hard to look at it that way when you are in the midst of what seems like a life-changing trial. We don't find the joy, we worry, stress, rehash, dwell, complain, etc, etc...

At least, I do, or used to. I'm trying to be better. 

What good does all that worry and stress do? It doesn't, it just robs us of our joy. It robs us of our happiness and then there we are wasting a minute, an hour, a day, a week of our time. Time that we aren't guaranteed, anyway. Tomorrow isn't promised, so do you want your possible last day to be filled with worry and doubt?

Worrying isn't going to change anything, it won't fix anything. I'm guessing more often than not, it makes things worse and in the end, doesn't matter anyway.

So, here's me, vowing to worry less, and live more. How about you?

to the moon and back,

I'm not a hugger

I'm not a hugger, never really have been. I don't think I got that gene. I read an article about the benefits of hugging and I thought to myself... "Meh... whatever..."

I think most people are born with an innate ability to appreciate hugs. Not me, I'm not touchy feely, just ask my husband, it drives him crazy. I feel like I should be a hugger. It would probably make things so much easier, especially since my hubby's love language is physical touch.

"What's this 'Love Language' you speak of?" Well, if you have to ask, then, apparently, you haven't read the "5 Love Languages". The basic idea is that everyone "speaks" a different language when showing their love. So if your love language is gifts and your spouse's is quiality time, it doesn't matter how many gifts you give him, he won't see it as love. It's like speaking English to someone who only speaks French. The 5 love languages are:

• Acts of Service
• Physical Touch
• Words of Affirmation
• Quality Time
• Gifts

My primary language is Acts of Service. Fifth on my list? Yep, you guessed it, Physical Touch. I don't know why I am that way, I just am. It's probably because I didn't come from a huggy family. Generally, if you got a hug, it was at a funeral or on a holiday. 

I have gotten better about receiving hugs, especially after having Moose, but I'm still definitely not a giver in that respect (except for with Moose). I think it's because I'm an awkward hugger. I'm not a good judge of when it's a good time to hug and what type of hug is appropriate. Should I go in for a full hug? A half hug? A half hug with a pat on the back? A hand shake hug? There are too many choices and quite frankly, I'm too indecisive for that mess.

If I do decide to go in for a hug, I end up switching the type of hug mid way and I sorta come across as creepy or grabby.

I am not above personal growth. So in an effort to teach myself how to be a hugger, I scoured the internet for tips. Here's what I found:

I think that's a good starting point. I like #6 the best. I think I can pull that one off.

Moral to the story, if I don't hug you, it doesn't mean that I don't love you, I'm just not a hugger. Just think you could be caught up in a super awkward half shake, kiss on the cheek, full on hug and no body wants that. However, if you hug me, I will hug you back or kick you in the shin, it's a toss up.

to the moon and back,

I am called to love...

I am called to love

I am not called to judge

There is no grey area

Your sin is no greater than mine

I am called to forgive

I am not called to hold harbor anger

You need the same forgiveness as I

You were given the same forgiveness as I

I am called to be satisfied

I am not called to be jealous

Material things are not lasting

Our rewards will come

I am called to accept

I am not called to condone

My heart is open all

But I am not here to enable

I am called to love the person

Regardless of race

Regardless of sex

Regardless of sin

I am called to be like Him

He who ate with tax collectors

He who did not judge the prostitute

He who died for all sinners

I strive to just love

These words have been swirling in my head the last few days.

to the moon and back,

My miscarriage...

If you follow my blog because of my wit and satire... this post is not for you, as if you couldn't tell by the title. I just wanted to give fair warning that this will be sad, at least if you have a heart it will.

Before I get too far into it, I would at least like to give a few reasons for broadcasting this to the the 5's of people who read this blog. Well, first off, I have said before that I use this blog as a form of therapy for myself. Secondly, I found out the hard way that that keeping stuff locked up is no way to get over it. Finally, this is a subject that not a lot of people want to talk about, so if I can help someone else who can't talk about it feel a little less alone, then it's worth it.

It is a long one...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

On January 25th, before I was even late, I took a pregnancy test. We had been trying so I knew I was within a day or so. Drumroll... A plus sign... What? Pregnant? I have to say I was shocked. We really had only been trying for a month. Man, that was quick, I thought I'd have a few months at least. A flood of emotions overwhelmed me and I walked out to show Jon, he got the biggest smile on his face and I broke down and started crying... Not because I was sad, just emotionally overwhelmed.

The next week we went on a trip to TN to visit friends. We had a great time (other than I was recovering from the flu). However, I did have this nagging uneasy feeling. I told Jon and my friend, Sarah, about it. I really couldn't put a finger on it though. It sorta felt like that feeling when your boss says "We need to talk" or when you get called to the principal's office. I was just feeling off, but I sort of contributed that to the changing hormones.

Over the next few weeks, I still had the feeling but it kept lessening. However, now I was just nervous in general, even more so than with my first pregnancy. Again, I just blamed it on hormones well that and the fact that in my close circle of friends, 4 of them had issues following their 1st pregnancy or issues with their 2nd. Including blood clots, Gastroschisis, miscarriage, and Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia.

I had my first appointment with the midwife and everything seemed to be going well. I felt good, other than the normal pregnancy symptoms; being nauseous, dry mouth, sore boobs, minor headaches and mood swings. She checked me and everything seemed to be right where it needed to be. She scheduled me for my bloodwork and my first sonogram.

I kept up with my eating healthy (as much as the cravings and nausea would allow), I did pre-natal yoga, I took my pre-natal vitamins, I walked, I didn't have caffeine, I didn't drink, I stayed away from artificial sweetners... all of the stuff you are supposed to do.

The day of my sonogram came (which happened to be the day before I had to fly to NY for a company trip). Jon met me at the doctor's office and we waited to be called back. We made small talk with the woman doing our sonogram (she was the same one who did them for us when we had Moose). I laid on the table, adjusted my pants and she applied whatever that gooey stuff is to my stomach. She placed the wand on my stomach and as soon as she did, I knew that there was something wrong.

With Moose, we had a sonogram at 5wks 6dys and we saw him. Even though he was tiny, we saw him. I was 9wks 3dys, We should be seeing something. I kept thinking, "Maybe this is just a really wide view, maybe she has to zoom in." Suddenly, I kept thinking, "that has to be it, right? Didn't they have to do that in the beginning with Moose?"

She said, "I'm going to measure the sac now," *mouse click* *mouse click*. "but I'm sorry to tell you that there is no baby there and I honestly can't say that there ever has been. I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry" And just like that, I wasn't pregnant anymore... Only I was, or at least my body still thought so.

Instant tears, Jon reached for my hand, stood up and held me. Endless tears...

9 & 1/2 weeks... We had known since weeks, we had already started planning, I bought diapers to start stocking up, we had talked about names... How is it that there is no baby? What had I done wrong?? Then instantly I thought, "Oh God, we have to tell everyone that there is no baby... Why didn't we wait to tell until after 12 weeks?" 

Even worse... how was I going to tell Moose that he was no longer going to have a baby brother or sister?

She said that she had to call the doctor to come talk to me about my options. They walked me into another room and the doctor came in. He said that it's called "blighted ovum" (never heard of it? me either read about it here and here) Bottom line is that there was no baby, no fetus and no fetal pole. Apparently, it's very common, I don't know about you, but that's not very comforting. Option one: I could let my body take care of it on it's own or option two: I could have a D&C. A miscarriage is less controlled, could result in hemmorhaging, infection and you never know when it's going to happen. A D&C is more controlled, quick, sterile and fewer chances of complications.

Hmmm... decisions, decisions... And the doctor is standing there looking at me. I'm crying and Jon's fighting back tears. The doctor says that we don't have to make a decision now, unless we want to, but to me the D&C seemed like the right choice (if you feel differently, that's fine, please do judge or question my decision, it was not one that was easily made). Within a matter of minutes the procedure was scheduled for the next Thursday (March14th) and I had to do blood work for a type & screen on Wednesday because I am RH negative.

In one short hour, I had gone from expectant mother, to a woman who was scheduled to remove the "products of conception".

When I picked up Moose from my moms, I told him about it, I had to, he kept asking why mommy was crying and was so sad. So I told him that the baby in mommy's belly went away. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said "But mommy, I want my baby brother or baby sister." Just the week before he was talking about all of the things he could teach him/her like how to play, and not potty in their diaper and how to sleep and not cry, and how he could make them laugh by making faces at them because that always makes babies laugh. He started crying and said "Mommy, I am so sorry that the baby in your belly went away."

Don't forget, I still had to go home and pack for my trip. The next 4 days I would be away from my family and would have no time to really process because I would be working a tradeshow for 9 hours and day and I was rooming with a co-worker so I wouldn't have time to myself.

In the times I did get to think about it, my mind immediately started blaming it on something I had done:
   Did I not want it enough?
   Should I not have taken the Tami-flu?
   Did I work out too much?
   Did I not start taking my pre-natals early enough?
   Is the D&C the right choice?
   Could I have done something differently?
   Is it ridiculous that I am mourning a baby that was never there?
   Why do I feel embarrassed telling people that there never was a baby?

Sometimes I hate how a mind works... Sometimes no one is to blame. Sometimes things just happen. God knows that there was a reason for this, and whether I understand it or not, I except it and honestly, I'm with Jon in thinking that I am glad it happened sooner rather than later.

Wednesday came and I had my blood work. I hate needles and Moose knows that, he said "I'll hold your hand so you don't get nervous mommy. I don't want my mommy to be nervous." And when I started crying because there was a possible problem with insurance, while squeezing my neck, he said "Oh, it's ok mommy, I am here for you, I'll always be here for you. Don't cry, it's ok".

Thursday, day of surgery... Up at 5:20am to be there by 6:00am, surgery at 7:30am, no longer pregnant by 7:45am. They brought me back for pre-op and got me ready. Then Jon came back to sit with me. Lots of tears and pulling it together and tears and pulling it together. 

Then, the inconsiderate nurses (not mine, mine were really great) in the hall right next to my bay start talking about how on Tuesday a woman with no known allergies went into anaphylactic shock after getting the versed shot. She coded and then needed CPR and almost didn't make it. Really?? I've never had surgery in my life and this is the convo you have outside my room and the rooms of others having procedures today? Jon stepped out and politely asked them to be a little more sympathetic to the patients about to get the same shot.

After that, they gave me the versed, and hauled me off to the OR. I really don't remember anything after that except sliding myself to the other bed. The next thing I remember was waking up, trying to figure out if I was done or what was going on. They brought Jon back and the relief in his eyes was beautiful.

And that was it... we were done and discharged.

I know that I'm not the only woman who has had this problem nor am I the only one who has miscarried but that brings little consolation. Everyone mourns differently, everyone needs their own outlet, everyone needs support, but more importantly everyone needs to move on. I'm not saying that they need to forget, I'm saying that they need to find a way to look back with love and not with anger or hatred or emptiness.

It wasn't my fault... It wasn't your fault... God knew better that us that the timing wasn't right, no matter how hard that is to see right now.

I'm so thankful that I have an amazingly supportive husband, son, family and friends. Though this process is and will continue to be difficult, they have made it so much easier on me.

I love you all...

...to the moon and back,

www.hypersmash.com

I'm a "Yes" girl

That's me... a "yes" girl.

As I mentioned earlier, "No" doesn't frequent my vocabulary (unless you ask my husband, I'm fairly certain that he will tell you that I tell him "no" all of the time).

I am a people pleaser which makes me a "yes" girl. I want people to be happy and if I can do that by saying yes and helping them out, then why not?

Why not? Well, because as a "yes" girl, I tend to spread myself way (and I mean waaaay) to thin (and not thin in a good way!). I over-commit myself and am always rushing to get things done.

Here's my dilemma, I like being a "yes" girl. I like making people happy. I like doing things for people. If you have read the "5 Love Languages", my love language is "Acts of Service" (if you haven't read it, you should, I recommend it to every couple, married or not), that means that the way I show love it to do things for you.

I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings and I am constantly worrying "Oh, what will they think if I say this or do that?" Why does it matter? If they really love me then they will respect my opinion, right? But what if they get mad at me? What if they don't want to be my friend? I spend way too much time thinking about that kind of stuff. It's maddening, really...

So here's to 2013... the year I try to start being myself more, the year that I'm not afraid to hold back my opinions, the year I say "no" a little more and "yes" a little less...

To the moon and back...

Potty training, schmotty training

Now, I'm the girl who cries at every pivotal (and if we are being totally honest, not so pivotal) moment in Moose's life. He's growing up way to fast for me and every milestone means we are one day closer to adolescence, where I will know nothing and he will know everything and not need me anymore. This current milestone, though, is one that I am ready to be done with... Potty Training.

Boo... That's all I have to say. Boo to potty training.

Moose will be 3 in September and we have been potty training for a few months now. Initially we did the naked method. I have to say, it worked really well to get him recognizing the act of potty-ing.

Most days he does great (nights are a different story, even with cutting off drinks at 7 and putting a diaper on him, there are mornings where it's like he got up and went swimming in his p-jammers and then climbed back into bed). I'll hear, "Mommy, I think I have to go potty."

But, then there are those days (which seem to be the days where I am already at my wits end) that he just doesn't think he needs to use the big boy potty. "Mommy, do I have a diaper on?" "No dear, you never have a diaper on during the day anymore. Did you potty?" "Yeah..." (insert frowny face here). "I poopied mommy." (insert major frowny face here).

Then there's me asking "Moose, do you have to potty?" "Mmm, nope!" again, "Moose, let's try to go potty" "But I don't have to go." Then two minutes later, "Mommy, my feet are cold." Really? Could that be because you are standing in a puddle of pee?

Naps are the same. Some days he will take his normal 3 to 4 hour nap (he's an anomaly, I know) and wake up bone dry, but other days, he's soaked after an hour.

Then, two weeks will go by with no accidents (cue the "Hallelujah" music) and just when I think, "By Jove, I think he's got it!" we have another day filled with accidents.

Don't get me wrong, he's only 2 (I tend to forget that because he is a very big kid as well as very mature and well behaved for his age, no one believes us when we say he's not even 3) and I know that accidents happen, but there are days that I would so much rather clean up a dirty diaper than a dirty pair of underwear. Especially when we are out and about.

The part that gets me is the in-between. He's not fully potty trained, but definitely not in a diaper anymore.

This too shall pass...

to the moon and back...

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I wandered

I kinda feel like this is my testimony. I've had times in my walk when I've fallen away, felt empty, betrayed, but I have realized that with out Jesus, there's really no comfort, no forgiveness and no healing.

A few years ago, I lost my cousin to cancer. She was a year older than me and at the time left behind a 6 year old daughter. Nothing made sense. I was angry at God. I realize now that everything happens for a reason. Good, bad or indifferent, it's not for us to know why. If we didn't have the lows, how would we recognize the highs?

i wandered the street
empty and broken
a shell of love song
better left unspoken
angry and bitter
a soul full of blame
no light to the world
just a snuffed out flame
seeking some guidance
some comfort, some peace
but the resentment's still clutching
no sign of release
when a stranger reached out
offering a hand
promising life
if i just take a stand
but what good is a life
if it's just full of pain
He said to be washed
with His blood comes gain
forgiveness and mercy
flow from His scars
release from this temporary
life behind bars
bars of pain
of sickness and death
i turned to His face
to be filled with His breath
i reached at His robe
for just a touch of healing
begging for love
engulfed with a feeling
i wandered the street
empty and broken
found peace in my savior
and the love He has spoken

Of love and loss and grieving....

Ok, I stole that title from my bosses blog, but it's fitting.

I could start this blog off with "Wow, it's, like totally, been a really long time since I last blogged. I've been sooo super busy with my crazy important life but I totally promise to be better about posting!" (please feel free to read that in your best Valley Girl voice circa 1983), but I won't. Truth is, life happens and while I love writing, and emptying my head of random thoughts (yes, thoughts, plural, I do manage to have more than one, however, trains of thought quickly derail), I also have family, friends, 2.5 jobs, running and the like that fill my days.

I have had a blog brewing in my little brain about the "Are You Mom Enough" article, but my luke warm opinions about most things coupled with the fact that I haven't actually read past the title of the article, have hindered me from diving into that topic further. I am fairly certain, though, that I am not mom enough when you take into account that my almost 3 year old watches TV, has had his vaccinations as well as tylenol & motrin, was only breastfed (and not exclusively, there was formula in the mix) until 14 months, has had (on occasion) a PB&J for breakfast and navigates my iPhone better than me. But that's beside the point, on to the task at hand.

Tonight, I write of love, loss and grieving...

Love... The love of a gracious God, the love of a remarkable mother, the love of humbled friends. First, there is the love of gracious God who gives peace to a family who needs all of the comfort they can get. He has laid out the plans for them and gives them strength though the pain. Then there is the love of a mother, a love that has no rivals. I don't think you can truly understand it until you become one. I'm not taking away from the love a father has for his child, but I am saying that it is a bit different when you have carried, nurtured and felt the child moving from inside you. We give them our bodies for 9 months and in turn they take a piece of our heart with them on the way out. Finally, the love of humbled friends, who no matter how much they do for their friends, no matter how much they give, they are humbled to have the friend who is in need trying to comfort them through her loss.

Loss... One of my dearest friends and her family is having to go through what no one should ever have to experience, the loss of a child. Just a few days ago, after giving birth, she lost her son (you can read about it here). Throughout the pregnancy and birth, she gave her worries to God and above all asked for His will to be done. God's will was done, and part of His plan for Emmett was unveiled as he was able to be an organ donor and has the opportunity to help save the lives of two babies. 

Grieving... I can never claim to know what she is feeling, but I know that since Thursday night, I have been wandering around in a fog with an emptiness in my chest. My heart aches for them and I hate that we (her friends) can't be closer to help her through this and to keep her mind occupied. It's a very helpless feeling to have so much distance between us and to not be able to be with her.

It's amazing how someone so little can fill your heart so much and how you can be filled with so much love so someone that you never got to meet, hold, talk to or cuddle with.

My prayers continue to go out to the Jackson family, I hope you will do the same.

to the moon and back,

Potty Time!

Wasn't this just last week?

My baby is growing up... it's bitter sweet. I am so proud of him and I am thrilled at how he is developing, but it means he's slowly becoming a little boy and less a baby. Yes, I am one of those mothers. I cried at his first steps, I cried when he didn't need his pacie, I cry when I even think about turning his crib into a toddler bed (yes, he is still in a crib, don't judge me, he's never tried to climb out). Heck, I bawl my eyes out at the thought of him being a teenager and not needing his mommy and some teenage chick replaces me as the love of his life. Wow, that's incredibly sappy and yet, I as I typed it, my eyes started watering. I know, I'm ridiculous. Let's just accept that and move on.

Where did this wobbling 1 year old go?

The milestone that he crossed tonight was going pee-pee on the potty. Since Monday we have been working with him and trying to get him him used to the idea of going on the "big boy" potty. He has been wearing "big boy" underpants at Mamaw's and she has been encouraging him to pee in the shower and in the yard (don't ask, she lives in the country, no one can see him). Well he has managed to soak her recliner, leave puddles on the floor and create a mess on the porch at which point he quickly told her that she had to clean it up. Still no interest in the potty.

I would pick him up after work and bring him home and put him down for a nap (in a diaper) and as soon as he would wake, I'd run him to the potty (all the while feeling the warmth grow in his diaper). In the 30 seconds it took me to get him from his room to the potty, he had already gone.

Who is this little boy?? Where has the time gone?

Well, today while at my moms, he actually acknowledged when he was going. Yay! He was so excited to tell me about it when I got there to pick him up.

When he woke up from his nap today, we missed it again and he went before I got him to the potty. So I changed him and we went to a friends birthday dinner. We left the house around 5:30pm and didn't get home until around 9:00pm (we had to stop by the store). When we walked in, I said "Moose, do you need to go potty?" and he actually said "YES!"

I said "Ok, lets get to the bathroom, quick! Quick!" we ran down the hall and I got his pants off and pulled his diaper off. It was completely dry! I set him on the potty and said "Ok, you can go!" He got a huge smile on his face and said "Ok"

**Tinkle Tinkle** "Oh Moose! What's that?" He said "I'm going pee-pee!" and then squealed and got an even bigger grin on his face! He yelled for daddy to come and when the hubby got there Moose screamed "I going potty!!!"

I think we all screamed and there were high-fives thrown around and then a naked toddler running through the house asking to call everyone he knows so he can tell them. It was the most precious thing ever. To see the pride in his eyes and to see how excited he was took my breath away. I know it sounds incredibly silly to say that my son peeing on the potty would take my breath away, but if you could have seen the look on his face, it was priceless.

We have an amazing little boy, who will one day be an even more amazing man and while I want it to take a very long time getting here, I am excited to see the person he will become.

I love you, Moose....

To the moon and back,

C25K... I'm off the couch

This is not what I look like when I run, I'm way more graceful!

So, in my journey to fitness and skinnydom I have set a goal to run a 5K.

Yep... me... a 5K... what am I thinking? I'm excited about the idea of running a 5K, it was a goal of mine prior to having Moose, that I never saw come to fruition so now is the time. I feel like it would be an amazing sense of accomplishment to run/jog the whole thing and finish. Ok, so it's not as great as a marathon or anything, but I'm taking baby steps as I'm generally not a fan of setting goals because it makes your failures that much more prominent, but this is one I am really hoping to stick with till the end.

My vehicle for achieving my goal is the C25K app. So far I love it, my body, not so much (in fact, I think it's screaming for me to stop). The premise is a no brainer, run and walk until you build up the strength to eventually run the whole thing. Duh, sounds simple enough. What I really like about it, is that while you are doing the plan you keep the app running (will also sync with your iTunes playlist) and it tells you what to do and when to do it. I like that, guide me oh electronic fitness coach, guide me. It takes all of the guess work out of it. I don't have to constantly check my time on a stop watch, or keep track of how many sets I have done. It also has a place where I can journal about the day's run and it keeps track on what day I am on.

I, of course, happen to be an overachiever, I am already on day 3 and I just started on Saturday morning. I know what you are thinking, "But Jen, you are only supposed to do it 3 days a week." Well, yeeeees, and if I had read all of the instructions thoroughly, I would have known that, but I don't like to read instructions so my body is paying the price! My bad... Anyway, the makers of C25K claim to take you from the couch to completing a 5K in 9 short weeks and if I can make it, anyone can.

Now that I have completed the first three runs in record time, I am walking around like either a 98 year old woman riddled with arthritis (only I think I grumble and complain more) or an 11 month baby old learning to walk (and still, I think I stumble more). Even though I am in pain, it's a good pain. It's a pain that I can live with because I know that I am doing something great. I am being an active mommy for Moose! I also have to give credit to my hubby. He has pushed Moose in the stroller and ran with me two of the three times and I love the idea of doing it as a family.

I do think that I have found the perfect pair of running shoes. Let me know what you think...

 

Haha!!! I love them!! Can't you just see me running down the street in these?

To the moon & back,

So much to talk about

It's been quite a while since I blogged and I feel like there is so much to talk about that I don't know where to begin...

Love - I have never felt so loved. I have an amazing husband, wonderful family and the best friends a girl could ask for. I had the pleasure of spending some time with one of my dearest friends, Sarah. I don't get to see her much because her husband got a job and took her back to IN. How selfish of him (insert sarcasm font here). In addition to spending time with Sarah, I got to spend time with her folks and her little boy. Her parents were so great. I couldn't have asked for a better welcome. They were so gracious and made me feel like part of the family. Love you guys and thank you!

Life - Crazy busy to say the least. While we were on said trip (when we left IN and got to KY for my work), we had 2 ER visits. The first of which was at 2:30 am at the Children's Hospital in Louisville. Moose was feverish, wasn't sleeping, had lost his appetite, crying, fussing, and had a really bad diaper rash as well as a rash on his chin. After 4 hours in the ER, we leave with Motrin and a diagnosis of... Hand, Foot & Mouth (and butt, but no one mentions that) Disease. The best I can figure it, is that he picked it up at the Children's Museum in Indianapolis (which is AMAZING, by the way). Nice... Oh, did I mention that it is HIGHLY contagious and we are traveling with my 80 something year old granny with a diminished immune system?

What was the 2nd ER visit, you ask? Well, it was for my Granny later the same day. She was having trouble breathing, was getting dizzy spells and her ankles were swelling. They did all kinds of tests on her and while she was there, her and my aunt fell in love with the doctor (who apparently looked like Dr. Travis Stork from the show the Doctors).  Ah... if only my granny was 40 years younger...

Mommy-hood - Moose turned two, pardon me while I ball my eyes out... It was a great party, he loved the balloons and we had a kiddy pool, sprinklers and our swing-set. I think all the little ones had fun. He got so many toys and so many clothes! I think he is set for the winter. We went together with my parents and got him a Stryder Balance Bike. He loves the idea of having his own bike, just like daddy!

Caffeine - Yes, please! Lots and lots! As a matter of fact, can I just get an IV hooked up to my arm?It's fall so all of the yummy fall flavors are out there and while visiting Sarah, she treated me to a Salted Caramel Mocha from Starbucks. It's like a little bit of heaven topped with salted caramel goodness. If I was rich (and didn't have to worry about the calories) I would have a Salted Caramel Mocha every morning and a Pumpkin Spice Latte every night. Both accompanied by a slice of my mom's pumpkin bread. Mmmm... my mouth is watering as I speak. I'm not sure that there is much out there right now that tops those flavors. Oh how I love fall!

So those are my thoughts on Love, Life, Mommy-Hood and Caffeine for now. Here's wishing you many, many caffeine filled drinks!