It's been a really long time since I've sat down to blog. I think I always begin my posts with that sentence. I was once really good about blogging frequently, but let's face it, I'm not very good with balancing this whole mom thing. Some women are naturals and make it look like cake. Cooking gourmet, instagram-worthy meals for their husbands every night, always engaging their toddlers in creative activities, hitting up the grocery store with no hair out of place, smiling as they round the cereal isle. That's not me, though I really wish I was at least kinda like that. I wish I had myself together a bit more, and I wish I wasn't so tired and lazy, and I wish I had a natural essence about me that just popped up in the morning ready to conquer the day with a smile and a song. Deep inside, I am that person. I am an all-star homemaker in my soul, and one day, I hope it swims to the surface and becomes one with who I am right now.
Derick is really supportive and says those women who have it all together are either lying or secretly do not have their priorities in check. I think that's true in some cases, but I also think there are a handful of super-strength moms who do it all and want to take on more. My mom was like that growing up, and my best friend Kelsey would be like that if she were to ever have a child (although she lies to help me feel better and says she would be horrible.)
All this is to preface my next case, which is this will be the final post for my blog, SemperKem. Derick thinks it's dumb that I'm bringing it to an end because he's getting out of the Marine Corps. He says I'll always be Kem. Get it? But I think it's kinda silly to have a blog based around my role as a Marine wife when my husband isn't in the Marines anymore. Yeah, yeah, once a Marine, always a Marine, but you know what I mean.
I have some other ideas in the works, so hopefully I can start another blog soon and be better about updating. I want to find another site, though, because I really think blogger hates me and what should take five minutes to type has taken about thirty because my sentences keep mysteriously deleting themselves. (Another reason I don't update is because it takes more effort than it's worth!)
Right now, though, I have other things to occupy my time. I'm finally into the second trimester of this pregnancy, and I'm finally feeling a little less like a pile of poop. We won't find out if we're having a boy or girl until JULY 22! Can you believe that? The hospital on base likes to schedule gender scans really late for whatever reason, so it's going to be a month of pins and needles. Reeve keeps saying he's having a sister, but we'll see. I'm convinced boy for several reasons, but we will be equally excited with either. Just blessed to be able to have another baby!
Well, we are about to eat pizza and go to the pool because it's free after five apparently. Then, Derick and I are going to watch OITNB if Reeve decides to go to bed early enough. He wrote a song today called, "Goodnight, Mama," and it is the sweetest thing ever. It reinforces to me that it's ok that he's not always eating five-star organic meals. SEMPER KEM. (Unless I change my name...which wouldn't be a bad idea considering there is a felon on the loose with a similar name, according to Craighead County Sheriff's Office circa 2008.)
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Sunday, December 29, 2013
potty&hoho
First, I'd like to talk a little bit about poop. Reeve has been peeing and pooping on the potty since he was about nine months old. Of course, he had accidents, but he was about that age when we actually started taking notice of his poop faces and rushing him to the potty. We took him to pee pee on the potty from time to time during the day, and he eventually just realized what to do. I was pretty astounded at how quickly he learned what to do, but he hasn't had a poop diaper in months, minus a few road trip accidents. It's been nice not cleaning out those poopy cloth diapers, I must admit. He wears big boy underwear during the day if we are just hanging around the house, and if we go somewhere, I try to find a potty to let him pee. He's doing a great job! I'm so proud of my big man, and I'm thankful for my mom's help. She is actually the one who convinced me that it's never too early to potty train. I'm nervous about the nighttime training because that boy can peeeeee in his sleep! He still pees in the floor, don't get me wrong. Still, he's doing really well!
Another update is Reeve's talking. He will repeat anything. Literally. He asks for "ipe sicles," ice, rice, and "this" allllll the time. He is learning to say "amen" after the prayers before meals, and he knows most of his animal sounds. He is growing much too quickly for me. Babies become big kids really fast!
I've been thinking a lot about my New Years Resolution, and Derick and I actually discussed ours the other day. Mine is to make Jesus bigger in our home. Reeve is so impressionable and is learning so much so quickly, I just feel like it's really important for us to teach him about who Jesus is. Kinda like potty training, right? It's never too early! I hope that Reeve has been able to sense positivity and light and love in my actions. I know I've already let him down by the way I react in certain situations or on bad days. But I hope he is already learning about trust and love and compassion.
Reeve learned who "HoHo" is in just one day. He is still saying "Ho Ho Ho Ho" every time we see that jolly dude anywhere. Today at lunch, he saw a big man with suspenders and a white beard and yelled, "HO HO HO!!!" All Christmas season, I thought his obsession was cute, but I began to feel guilty that Reeve associated anything Christmas with Ho Ho Ho and Santa and snowmen. Shouldn't I have taught him the Reason instead of, or at least in addition to, Santa?
He is learning so many new things every day. At his tender age, it much easier to teach him something than it is to teach an older person, already set in his or her ways. I want to make 2014 all about Christ and His sacrifice for us. I want our son to grow up in a home that is centered around Jesus and His mercy. I want us to show that same mercy to each other and to everyone. I want Reeve to see his mom and dad pray together, read the Bible together, and talk about our Lord. I want him to feel able to speak his heart without fear of ridicule or negativity. I want him to view our home as a place of comfort and joy and happiness.
Perhaps the best way to teach a baby/infant/kid...well anyone, really...about Jesus is just to act like Him. Reeve may not be able to comprehend who Christ is or what He did quite yet, but Derick and I are able to show him the same type of love everyday by being focused on committing our relationship and family to God's purpose. Then, when he is a little older, it will be an easy transition from seeing Jesus in his parents to seeing Jesus face-to-face for all that He is. Right?
I've messed up a lot. A LOT. My focus wasn't always on Jesus, my mission wasn't always the mission God has for me. I still mess up everyday and do the same dumb things over and over. I set my sights on worldly stuff and get caught up in the chaos of being a human. But I hope that I am taking some steps forward in my walk with Christ, and I hope our family can be one that pleases Him, even with our flaws and in spite of our pasts.
Derick's New Years Resolution is to read the entire Bible. He told me that he's excited but nervous, especially about reading those Old Testament books like Numbers and Judges. Our pastor in Jacksonville laid it out really nicely one time that even those books point straight to Jesus. Read them, and you'll see! Maybe my life can be like the book of Numbers, lots of mumble jumble blah blah confusing stuff, but in the end, important, because it tells about Jesus!
Adios 2013!
Another update is Reeve's talking. He will repeat anything. Literally. He asks for "ipe sicles," ice, rice, and "this" allllll the time. He is learning to say "amen" after the prayers before meals, and he knows most of his animal sounds. He is growing much too quickly for me. Babies become big kids really fast!
I've been thinking a lot about my New Years Resolution, and Derick and I actually discussed ours the other day. Mine is to make Jesus bigger in our home. Reeve is so impressionable and is learning so much so quickly, I just feel like it's really important for us to teach him about who Jesus is. Kinda like potty training, right? It's never too early! I hope that Reeve has been able to sense positivity and light and love in my actions. I know I've already let him down by the way I react in certain situations or on bad days. But I hope he is already learning about trust and love and compassion.
Reeve learned who "HoHo" is in just one day. He is still saying "Ho Ho Ho Ho" every time we see that jolly dude anywhere. Today at lunch, he saw a big man with suspenders and a white beard and yelled, "HO HO HO!!!" All Christmas season, I thought his obsession was cute, but I began to feel guilty that Reeve associated anything Christmas with Ho Ho Ho and Santa and snowmen. Shouldn't I have taught him the Reason instead of, or at least in addition to, Santa?
He is learning so many new things every day. At his tender age, it much easier to teach him something than it is to teach an older person, already set in his or her ways. I want to make 2014 all about Christ and His sacrifice for us. I want our son to grow up in a home that is centered around Jesus and His mercy. I want us to show that same mercy to each other and to everyone. I want Reeve to see his mom and dad pray together, read the Bible together, and talk about our Lord. I want him to feel able to speak his heart without fear of ridicule or negativity. I want him to view our home as a place of comfort and joy and happiness.
Perhaps the best way to teach a baby/infant/kid...well anyone, really...about Jesus is just to act like Him. Reeve may not be able to comprehend who Christ is or what He did quite yet, but Derick and I are able to show him the same type of love everyday by being focused on committing our relationship and family to God's purpose. Then, when he is a little older, it will be an easy transition from seeing Jesus in his parents to seeing Jesus face-to-face for all that He is. Right?
I've messed up a lot. A LOT. My focus wasn't always on Jesus, my mission wasn't always the mission God has for me. I still mess up everyday and do the same dumb things over and over. I set my sights on worldly stuff and get caught up in the chaos of being a human. But I hope that I am taking some steps forward in my walk with Christ, and I hope our family can be one that pleases Him, even with our flaws and in spite of our pasts.
Derick's New Years Resolution is to read the entire Bible. He told me that he's excited but nervous, especially about reading those Old Testament books like Numbers and Judges. Our pastor in Jacksonville laid it out really nicely one time that even those books point straight to Jesus. Read them, and you'll see! Maybe my life can be like the book of Numbers, lots of mumble jumble blah blah confusing stuff, but in the end, important, because it tells about Jesus!
Adios 2013!
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
worry and grace; teeth and burritos
Man, what a whirlwind of a couple of weeks! I've really missed having Derick here to help out with the load and share with during the easy coasting. It's been super nice to have the help of family and friends, though. Sometimes, I imagine myself back in North Carolina with Reeve and Paris, and I just feel overwhelmingly grateful for the opportunity to be here and have this company and help. Those ladies who stayed onboard good ol Camp Lejeune during the deployment, especially those with multiple kids, are my inspirations! Wowee wow wow.
I really miss certain things about North Carolina. My husband, for one. Also, the beach and the salty air that I took for granted. I miss the sweet simplicity of living on base and being near so many I-know-what-you're-going-through friends. I miss cheap coffee at Dunkin Donuts and cheap chicken at the commissary. I miss FLAMING AMY'S BURRITO BARN and First Baptist Jax. Praise God for leading Reeve and me to Verge Church in Jonesboro, though. That church and the people there have been an answered prayer. Praise God for my mom and dad, too. My mom has this incredible patience that floors me. I don't know how she does it. My dad is such a hard worker; always going, going, going. I'm glad to be able to be here in Arkansas right now. God knew exactly what we needed, and He provided. He continues to provide. I'm thankful. (By the way, I haven't found myself missing and longing for Western Boulevard. Stay tuned for that...)
I'm also looking forward to the future, though, and it's such a struggle for me not to plan and scheme. I am always trying to figure out the next step, and I'm learning that I'm called to just trust in His timing and His plan and just follow Him from day to day. So many questions linger in my mind about what will happen; where we'll go; what we'll do; what kind of dental insurance will we have in the future (see: my status update on FB). But God tells us, "don't worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn't life more than food and the body more than clothes?" I was strangely reminded of that verse as I was looking at these sweet zip-up boots online. Haha, I know that's not what the verse is really saying...but isn't it? Kinda?
Worrying is something that easily consumes me. I have to try really hard not to do it, and I've noticed that the more I try, and the more I give over to God, the easier it becomes to just focus on the day itself.
Reeve is very quickly becoming super responsive to my questions. He dances when I ask if he can shake it. He gallops when I ask what the horsie does. He growls when I ask him about any other animal, aside from the horse. Even a butterfly growls. It's true that babies know more than they can tell us. He knows when I'm frustrated because, guess what, he growls! I'm trying really hard to contain my frustration and maintain my peace. I see my flaws and failures, and I just want to fix them before he can pick up on them. I worry and stress and then turn around and think, "I really hope Reeve doesn't become so stressed out one day." I hope my tooth decay is the only negative thing I pass on to him. I hope everyday he can look through my mistakes and see the grace of God. I hope he can disregard my selfishness and learn to love people. I hope I can learn to do that, too.
Everyday is a new day to learn and grow and love. I spent a lot of years running in circles and chasing my own ambitions, and I'm so sick of everything in my world being Kem-based because it only leads back to the beginning. I think when we stop worrying about our own troubles and circumstances, we can focus our eyes and energy on something bigger and more substantial. And when we start thinking about others, our own situations usually don't seem so troubling. Perhaps that's God's way of hearing our pleas for help.
I hope to be less about me, more about God. More about Derick and Reeve and my family and friends and strangers I haven't even met yet! What a task it is to put myself aside! I don't even know if I can do it, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to screw it up. Thank God for grace!
I really miss certain things about North Carolina. My husband, for one. Also, the beach and the salty air that I took for granted. I miss the sweet simplicity of living on base and being near so many I-know-what-you're-going-through friends. I miss cheap coffee at Dunkin Donuts and cheap chicken at the commissary. I miss FLAMING AMY'S BURRITO BARN and First Baptist Jax. Praise God for leading Reeve and me to Verge Church in Jonesboro, though. That church and the people there have been an answered prayer. Praise God for my mom and dad, too. My mom has this incredible patience that floors me. I don't know how she does it. My dad is such a hard worker; always going, going, going. I'm glad to be able to be here in Arkansas right now. God knew exactly what we needed, and He provided. He continues to provide. I'm thankful. (By the way, I haven't found myself missing and longing for Western Boulevard. Stay tuned for that...)
I'm also looking forward to the future, though, and it's such a struggle for me not to plan and scheme. I am always trying to figure out the next step, and I'm learning that I'm called to just trust in His timing and His plan and just follow Him from day to day. So many questions linger in my mind about what will happen; where we'll go; what we'll do; what kind of dental insurance will we have in the future (see: my status update on FB). But God tells us, "don't worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn't life more than food and the body more than clothes?" I was strangely reminded of that verse as I was looking at these sweet zip-up boots online. Haha, I know that's not what the verse is really saying...but isn't it? Kinda?
Worrying is something that easily consumes me. I have to try really hard not to do it, and I've noticed that the more I try, and the more I give over to God, the easier it becomes to just focus on the day itself.
Reeve is very quickly becoming super responsive to my questions. He dances when I ask if he can shake it. He gallops when I ask what the horsie does. He growls when I ask him about any other animal, aside from the horse. Even a butterfly growls. It's true that babies know more than they can tell us. He knows when I'm frustrated because, guess what, he growls! I'm trying really hard to contain my frustration and maintain my peace. I see my flaws and failures, and I just want to fix them before he can pick up on them. I worry and stress and then turn around and think, "I really hope Reeve doesn't become so stressed out one day." I hope my tooth decay is the only negative thing I pass on to him. I hope everyday he can look through my mistakes and see the grace of God. I hope he can disregard my selfishness and learn to love people. I hope I can learn to do that, too.
Everyday is a new day to learn and grow and love. I spent a lot of years running in circles and chasing my own ambitions, and I'm so sick of everything in my world being Kem-based because it only leads back to the beginning. I think when we stop worrying about our own troubles and circumstances, we can focus our eyes and energy on something bigger and more substantial. And when we start thinking about others, our own situations usually don't seem so troubling. Perhaps that's God's way of hearing our pleas for help.
I hope to be less about me, more about God. More about Derick and Reeve and my family and friends and strangers I haven't even met yet! What a task it is to put myself aside! I don't even know if I can do it, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to screw it up. Thank God for grace!
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Baby Steps and Better
This time, last year, I was deliberately acting nonchalant toward my parents, Derick, and Derick's parents. We were in my parents' camper on Onslow Beach at Camp Lejeune, and Derick had just arrived for supper. Earlier, I had told my mom and Kim that maybe Reeve was coming soon (I won't go into the glamorous details of why),and both of them were being super dramatic out of pure excitement, so I made it a point to be overly calm and collected. Derick came in, and I told him that we were going to eat, then we could go by our house to get the hospital bag, also on the edge of its seat after a false-alarm trip the week prior. I remember sitting in the middle of the booth, on the other side of the little dinner table in the camper. I needed to get out to get more mac-and-cheese, but I was packed in, so I just stood up and jumped down from the connecting bench. Looking back, maybe I was being a little too cool about the labor.
Anyway, you heard the birth story that welcomed our sweet Reeve into this world. It wasn't a typical, beautiful story, yet it was. It was so beautiful, and as Reeve turns one year old tomorrow, I have fond thoughts of the past two years. Two years ago, September 19, Derick and I found out that we weren't going to be parents quite as soon as we'd thought. We were totally crushed, and I went through, by far, the darkest era of my entire life.
However, exactly one year and one day from that day, Reeve Magnus was due to arrive. (He was stubborn of course, and that hasn't changed). He was more than an answer to many prayers; joy after a season of pain and defeat; light after a time of darkness.
I look at my son, and I see everything I love about my husband. I see all of my strengths. I see simplicity and complexity, all at once. I see love and hope and joy. I see, clearly and without obstruction, God. I have new reason to live righteously (and totally fail at it). I have reason to be completely selfless. I fail at that, too.
Reeve came into our lives at the perfect time. He is the coolest baby ever. Even during his fits or when he feels bad, he has a peaceful demeanor and can always spare a smile. Babies are wild. They fascinate me.
Two days ago, Reeve took his very first consecutive steps. He's been standing for a while, and about a week ago, he took one deliberate step out in the yard and I nearly had a heart attack. I ran over to him and kissed him and hugged him--probably freaking him out enough to discourage any further attempt at walking for a week. His first steps were in my parents' living room. He was playing with his new trucks he got at his birthday party. My mom was in the floor with him, and I got down to play, too. He held his truck, and my mom said, "bring it to Mama." There he went. One, two, three, four steps straight to me. I hope he always knows he can bring anything to me, and I'll be there to catch him.
Our long-haired boy is full of energy and personality. He makes weird sounds, and he is super mechanical with his hands. He likes to figure things out and take things apart. He likes to go "back" (out back). He likes to ride his "budden" (trike). He likes to take a bath, and he'll tell you that. He loves animals and growls at them. He growls at people that have even the slightest resemblance to animals. He growls at a lot of things. When I mention "dada," he makes kiss noises. When I sing "Reeve is here today," he waves at me. When I read the part about the promenade in Barnyard Dance, he mumbles and makes the "cockadoodledoo!" sound, too. He's a smart fellow. He's my muscle man and one of the good guys.
I'm proud of the baby Reeve is, and I hope that we can instill goodness and patience and kindness and respect in him. I hope he grows up knowing all about God's grace. I hope he always finds an animal to growl at.
I wrote a song the other day, in honor of Reeve's first birthday. I was going to sing it in a video, but I didn't want to embarrass my husband anymore than some of my hairdos and outfits already do. So, I'll just write the lyrics:
"Better"
a song for your first birthday
Reeve smiles with an open mouth.
He laughs, and I love that sound.
It's like hearing Mmmbop for the first time,
but better.
He lights the fields in Arkansas,
the waves and sand all along
the east coast
With a joy that makes the entire world
better.
Even Helmand has a beating heart
that synchs with his.
My whole world is illuminated with
one sweet kiss.
Life is better.
It's better.
I am better.
now that you're here.
His hair dances in the southern wind
and his voice makes me feel free again,
Just like when I met you in the gym,
but better.
He holds my hand when he walks,
and he looks just like you whenever he talks
and his heart has the very best of us
but better.
I hope I can be everything he needs.
We have everything in the world
now that we have Reeve.
Life is better.
It's so much better.
I am better
now that you're here.
When you think of me,
I hope you can see
that I'm always trying to be--
just for you--
better.
Happy first birthday, Reeve Magnus Roberts. Your parents are the proudest in the world because of you!
Anyway, you heard the birth story that welcomed our sweet Reeve into this world. It wasn't a typical, beautiful story, yet it was. It was so beautiful, and as Reeve turns one year old tomorrow, I have fond thoughts of the past two years. Two years ago, September 19, Derick and I found out that we weren't going to be parents quite as soon as we'd thought. We were totally crushed, and I went through, by far, the darkest era of my entire life.
However, exactly one year and one day from that day, Reeve Magnus was due to arrive. (He was stubborn of course, and that hasn't changed). He was more than an answer to many prayers; joy after a season of pain and defeat; light after a time of darkness.
I look at my son, and I see everything I love about my husband. I see all of my strengths. I see simplicity and complexity, all at once. I see love and hope and joy. I see, clearly and without obstruction, God. I have new reason to live righteously (and totally fail at it). I have reason to be completely selfless. I fail at that, too.
Reeve came into our lives at the perfect time. He is the coolest baby ever. Even during his fits or when he feels bad, he has a peaceful demeanor and can always spare a smile. Babies are wild. They fascinate me.
Two days ago, Reeve took his very first consecutive steps. He's been standing for a while, and about a week ago, he took one deliberate step out in the yard and I nearly had a heart attack. I ran over to him and kissed him and hugged him--probably freaking him out enough to discourage any further attempt at walking for a week. His first steps were in my parents' living room. He was playing with his new trucks he got at his birthday party. My mom was in the floor with him, and I got down to play, too. He held his truck, and my mom said, "bring it to Mama." There he went. One, two, three, four steps straight to me. I hope he always knows he can bring anything to me, and I'll be there to catch him.
Our long-haired boy is full of energy and personality. He makes weird sounds, and he is super mechanical with his hands. He likes to figure things out and take things apart. He likes to go "back" (out back). He likes to ride his "budden" (trike). He likes to take a bath, and he'll tell you that. He loves animals and growls at them. He growls at people that have even the slightest resemblance to animals. He growls at a lot of things. When I mention "dada," he makes kiss noises. When I sing "Reeve is here today," he waves at me. When I read the part about the promenade in Barnyard Dance, he mumbles and makes the "cockadoodledoo!" sound, too. He's a smart fellow. He's my muscle man and one of the good guys.
I'm proud of the baby Reeve is, and I hope that we can instill goodness and patience and kindness and respect in him. I hope he grows up knowing all about God's grace. I hope he always finds an animal to growl at.
I wrote a song the other day, in honor of Reeve's first birthday. I was going to sing it in a video, but I didn't want to embarrass my husband anymore than some of my hairdos and outfits already do. So, I'll just write the lyrics:
"Better"
a song for your first birthday
Reeve smiles with an open mouth.
He laughs, and I love that sound.
It's like hearing Mmmbop for the first time,
but better.
He lights the fields in Arkansas,
the waves and sand all along
the east coast
With a joy that makes the entire world
better.
Even Helmand has a beating heart
that synchs with his.
My whole world is illuminated with
one sweet kiss.
Life is better.
It's better.
I am better.
now that you're here.
His hair dances in the southern wind
and his voice makes me feel free again,
Just like when I met you in the gym,
but better.
He holds my hand when he walks,
and he looks just like you whenever he talks
and his heart has the very best of us
but better.
I hope I can be everything he needs.
We have everything in the world
now that we have Reeve.
Life is better.
It's so much better.
I am better
now that you're here.
When you think of me,
I hope you can see
that I'm always trying to be--
just for you--
better.
Happy first birthday, Reeve Magnus Roberts. Your parents are the proudest in the world because of you!
Sunday, August 11, 2013
momrambles
It has been a crazy long time since I've blogged. You all know the reason for that, so I won't go into details of how I'm the mother of a 10.5 month-old, active, rambunctious, adventurous, brave little dude. That, plus the fact that I'm in Arkansas while Derick is deployed, doesn't allow much down time. When I do have a few extra moments, I like to eat pounds of chocolate and watch an episode of House Hunters. Or just poop with the door closed.
I like being busy. It really helps the days away from mi chiquito fly by. But, I'm helplessly lazy and lacking of energy, so days upon days of being a "single" parent can really take its toll on my body, mind, and, you got it, spirit.
Before you have a baby, you get warned. They tell you that you won't have anymore free time, so you better enjoy it while you can. They tell you that being in bed before 11 p.m. is a luxury, so you better get used to not taking those midnight trips across town for ice cream. They tell you that you're going to lose a little bit of your mind once you pop that munchkin out of yo bod, so you better start doing some extra sudoku to reign in what brain cells you have.
I must admit. I was the typical pregnant gal who said, "ok give me all the advice you want, but he's my baby, and if I have anything to do with it, this (or that) won't happen." Some things happened. Some things haven't. I've stuck to my guns on a few things, and I've let some things slide. Reeve has fallen asleep in bed with me more times than I'd planned. He's eaten some ice cream because I feel bad eating it in front of him. I let him sleep in a pack-n-play basinette attachment for a little too long because I neglected to read the instructions. I've broken some rules and I've done my fair share of "bad parenting."
But I've also reached some goals. Reeve is still receiving his nourishment from breastmilk, despite a lot of struggle, a lot of advice (good and bad), a lot of pain, a lot of frustration, a lot of questioning, a lot of guilt, a lot of success, a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of feeding in the car, a lot LOT of days doing nothing but sitting on the couch in two-day-old clothes with a baby attached to my boob. My life has centered around breastfeeding, and for realz, if you haven't been there/done that, it's hard to understand the magnitude of what that means. THANK GOD for the friends who've been there/done that, are there/ are doing that, and the positive help and support from friends and family who just really care about my desire to breastfeed and their love for Reeve. It takes a dang village, doesn't it, Hillary Clinton?
I've been typing "I" and "my" a lot, but let me not ignore the obvious fact that I'd be in a mental institute right now if it weren't for the incredible patience and help from my husband. Not just during the struggles of breastfeeding, but with everything. After a long, crazy day at work, Derick would come home, exhausted, and take over as caretaker while I took a shower and cried, or sang, or just stood there. He lets me veg out more than what I probably need to. His days are never-ending. He goes to work at an un-Godly hour, gets off at the hour of Satan, barely has time to eat, and then puts on the Daddy-hat for both mine and Reeve's sake. I have it darn good. I can't complain, even on the roughest, craziest, most poop-covered days. I can't complain. Sometimes, I do and I feel like a big brat because really, I can't complain. My life is good.
And it is HARD without Derick here to help, but it is still good and I have a lot of joy.
It's so easy to lose sight of how good I have it. My dude is healthy and happy and just a really good dude. My family is eager to help and play with Reeve and hang out with me. My husband is working really hard to provide for us and serve our country. I have a long list of things for which I'm thankful. It's easy to focus on the few bad things. The tiny, miniature crappy aspects of life that are nothing in the big picture but seem magnified in the moment can be really hard to look over. I usually find myself focusing on those and those alone. But God's been good to remind me that it's important to keep my priorities in check. His Grace is so abundant. I see that every day.
I don't have the time to blog like I used to, but I don't really want it. Looking back on the past 10.5 months, I've been running around like a wild woman, but I also feel super blessed. I've learned so much and I know there is so much more to learn and experience. I'm by no means the world's best mom. I'm so far from it. I do really dumb, selfish things as a mother. I feel really guilty sometimes at the way I act or the things I say. I get scared that Reeve is going to absorb some of the negativity I have. I feel like I'm being irrational for letting him have so much dictatorship when it comes to eating and sleeping. I feel like I'm being lazy when I decide to sit on the couch instead of do some crunches or pig out on cake late at night instead of some carrots. I feel like a bad mom when I let Reeve watch Dora while I sit in the tub and pin things on pinterest. I feel like a failure when I don't read him a story every night. But I'm reminded that being a mother is a true gift from God. It's pretty normal (or so I gather) to feel like we're doing it all wrong. To feel like we are terrible parents when we don't have our junk together 24/7. Let me tell you, I RARELY have anything together for a minute. It's a good day if I brush my teeth before noon. It's a good day if I change underwear. But every day is a great day to just be a mom, and to be alive, and to be forgiven and loved. Don't be so hard on yourself. There really is no such thing as a perfect parent, I don't think. Pinterest has a lot of really great advice articles and links about how to raise a good kid or how to stay in shape with a baby. Those are good, positive things. But, in addition to all that, I think it really just comes down to doing our best, doing what we can. Sometimes our best is just hugging that dude through the chaos of poop and tears and puke and barking dog and lack of coffee and too much chocolate. And doesn't that big ol fat mess paint a really beautiful picture, when we step back and look at it?
I like being busy. It really helps the days away from mi chiquito fly by. But, I'm helplessly lazy and lacking of energy, so days upon days of being a "single" parent can really take its toll on my body, mind, and, you got it, spirit.
Before you have a baby, you get warned. They tell you that you won't have anymore free time, so you better enjoy it while you can. They tell you that being in bed before 11 p.m. is a luxury, so you better get used to not taking those midnight trips across town for ice cream. They tell you that you're going to lose a little bit of your mind once you pop that munchkin out of yo bod, so you better start doing some extra sudoku to reign in what brain cells you have.
I must admit. I was the typical pregnant gal who said, "ok give me all the advice you want, but he's my baby, and if I have anything to do with it, this (or that) won't happen." Some things happened. Some things haven't. I've stuck to my guns on a few things, and I've let some things slide. Reeve has fallen asleep in bed with me more times than I'd planned. He's eaten some ice cream because I feel bad eating it in front of him. I let him sleep in a pack-n-play basinette attachment for a little too long because I neglected to read the instructions. I've broken some rules and I've done my fair share of "bad parenting."
But I've also reached some goals. Reeve is still receiving his nourishment from breastmilk, despite a lot of struggle, a lot of advice (good and bad), a lot of pain, a lot of frustration, a lot of questioning, a lot of guilt, a lot of success, a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of feeding in the car, a lot LOT of days doing nothing but sitting on the couch in two-day-old clothes with a baby attached to my boob. My life has centered around breastfeeding, and for realz, if you haven't been there/done that, it's hard to understand the magnitude of what that means. THANK GOD for the friends who've been there/done that, are there/ are doing that, and the positive help and support from friends and family who just really care about my desire to breastfeed and their love for Reeve. It takes a dang village, doesn't it, Hillary Clinton?
I've been typing "I" and "my" a lot, but let me not ignore the obvious fact that I'd be in a mental institute right now if it weren't for the incredible patience and help from my husband. Not just during the struggles of breastfeeding, but with everything. After a long, crazy day at work, Derick would come home, exhausted, and take over as caretaker while I took a shower and cried, or sang, or just stood there. He lets me veg out more than what I probably need to. His days are never-ending. He goes to work at an un-Godly hour, gets off at the hour of Satan, barely has time to eat, and then puts on the Daddy-hat for both mine and Reeve's sake. I have it darn good. I can't complain, even on the roughest, craziest, most poop-covered days. I can't complain. Sometimes, I do and I feel like a big brat because really, I can't complain. My life is good.
And it is HARD without Derick here to help, but it is still good and I have a lot of joy.
It's so easy to lose sight of how good I have it. My dude is healthy and happy and just a really good dude. My family is eager to help and play with Reeve and hang out with me. My husband is working really hard to provide for us and serve our country. I have a long list of things for which I'm thankful. It's easy to focus on the few bad things. The tiny, miniature crappy aspects of life that are nothing in the big picture but seem magnified in the moment can be really hard to look over. I usually find myself focusing on those and those alone. But God's been good to remind me that it's important to keep my priorities in check. His Grace is so abundant. I see that every day.
I don't have the time to blog like I used to, but I don't really want it. Looking back on the past 10.5 months, I've been running around like a wild woman, but I also feel super blessed. I've learned so much and I know there is so much more to learn and experience. I'm by no means the world's best mom. I'm so far from it. I do really dumb, selfish things as a mother. I feel really guilty sometimes at the way I act or the things I say. I get scared that Reeve is going to absorb some of the negativity I have. I feel like I'm being irrational for letting him have so much dictatorship when it comes to eating and sleeping. I feel like I'm being lazy when I decide to sit on the couch instead of do some crunches or pig out on cake late at night instead of some carrots. I feel like a bad mom when I let Reeve watch Dora while I sit in the tub and pin things on pinterest. I feel like a failure when I don't read him a story every night. But I'm reminded that being a mother is a true gift from God. It's pretty normal (or so I gather) to feel like we're doing it all wrong. To feel like we are terrible parents when we don't have our junk together 24/7. Let me tell you, I RARELY have anything together for a minute. It's a good day if I brush my teeth before noon. It's a good day if I change underwear. But every day is a great day to just be a mom, and to be alive, and to be forgiven and loved. Don't be so hard on yourself. There really is no such thing as a perfect parent, I don't think. Pinterest has a lot of really great advice articles and links about how to raise a good kid or how to stay in shape with a baby. Those are good, positive things. But, in addition to all that, I think it really just comes down to doing our best, doing what we can. Sometimes our best is just hugging that dude through the chaos of poop and tears and puke and barking dog and lack of coffee and too much chocolate. And doesn't that big ol fat mess paint a really beautiful picture, when we step back and look at it?
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
sorry bout tha space bar
Believe it or not, I'm blogging, and of course I sliced my finger today, making typing all the more difficult. Gollygee, February 4th was the last time I actually took the time to sit down and fill everyone in on my ever-eventful life happenings.I will use Reeve and his constant need for attention (really, son? you need me to care for you 24/7??) (j/k) (don't report me to CPS) as an excuse for my bloggerland hiatus.Also, we got anew TV for the living room earlier this year and moved our laptop/TV set up to the bedroom, requiring a few extra button-pushes if I wanna blog. Ain't nobody got time fa dat. Ok, America, time to stop with that phrase. As I sit on our bed to type this, I am realizing how elderly I truly am. I can hardly read what I'm typing, so forgive me if you see a bunch of mistakes. They aren't due to laziness because we all know I'm the world's most active person ever, and they aren't due to stupidity because I'm crazy smart. I'm just blind. And I'm trying to keep a one-week-from-crawling baby away from the keyboard and on the bed at the same time. Don't quote me on the one week from crawling thing. It could be several, but dang, just last week, I turned my back for literally two seconds and that dude was halfway across the room. No more laying him in the floor on his back with potentially harmful objects out of reach. He can and will make his way to the objects. (I don't leave knives laying around the house, but ya know.)
Since we are on the subject of Reeve, I'll let you know now that he is the world's coolest, funniest, strangest baby ever. Everyone has the best baby, and I am no exception. He has the most pleasant demeanor. I'm so jealous of his calm nature and happiness. I'm convinced God sent him to me to teach me about my personality and attitude. He gave Reeve to us for so many reasons, and I discover new ones every day.
It's so strange to look back to last year. A year ago this weekend, Derick and I were at the Azalea Festival in Wilmington, and I had to tote my paper-towel covered gatorade bottle around because of my--what I would call "severe"--case of ptyalism. If you're a new reader, I encourage you to look back at my oh-so-exciting accounts of my pregnancy. If there was a symptom, you can bet I had it, but I'm very gracious of the opportunity to become pregnant, and I continue to be humbled that God chose me to mother such a great baby--who needs me at the moment.
Back! Reeve is so funny when he eats. He's been slapping me in the face and grabbing my lip with his free hand, and I think it might mean that he wants me to rub his hair. I do that at night when I'm when he's falling asleep and eating, and I always say, "you're one of the good guys." I've done that since he was a teeny ol thang. Maybe that relaxes him because when I rub his head, he stops grabbing my face.Babies and the way they communicate are really funny. Just now while he was eating, I handed him one of Parisann's stuffed animals and he started giggling. So cute.
[Forgive me for the weird spacing issues. The space bar on this keyboard is out of control.]
So, we have a pretty eventful year coming up as we face our first deployment. I can't deny my gratitude for the blessing of having Derick here this whole time. He was actually supposed to have deployed a couple weeks before Reeve was born, and if he had, he would still be gone.Tough to imagine going all this time without introducing Reeve to his daddy, but I have some crazy strong friends who have dealt/are dealing with that. I'm so encouraged by the strength of military wives. There's something to be said about women who can just roll with the dang punches while their husbands are off fighting in a war. Puts a lot of stuff into perspective, really. I mean, how spoiled am I that my husband gets to come home (almost) every night and help me with our son? I pray for the same resilience that my friends have. Being away from the one you love is tough, whether it's a few hours or a few months. That stinks. But I love the encouragement I get from my friends who hold it down, and I love it when they are reunited with their Marines (or respective servicemember). My friend, Beth, just welcomed her Marine home this week, and I was just so happy for that little family.
Well, it's getting late around here, and I still have one of the good guys who probably needs a diaper change. BuenosNoche
Since we are on the subject of Reeve, I'll let you know now that he is the world's coolest, funniest, strangest baby ever. Everyone has the best baby, and I am no exception. He has the most pleasant demeanor. I'm so jealous of his calm nature and happiness. I'm convinced God sent him to me to teach me about my personality and attitude. He gave Reeve to us for so many reasons, and I discover new ones every day.
It's so strange to look back to last year. A year ago this weekend, Derick and I were at the Azalea Festival in Wilmington, and I had to tote my paper-towel covered gatorade bottle around because of my--what I would call "severe"--case of ptyalism. If you're a new reader, I encourage you to look back at my oh-so-exciting accounts of my pregnancy. If there was a symptom, you can bet I had it, but I'm very gracious of the opportunity to become pregnant, and I continue to be humbled that God chose me to mother such a great baby--who needs me at the moment.
Back! Reeve is so funny when he eats. He's been slapping me in the face and grabbing my lip with his free hand, and I think it might mean that he wants me to rub his hair. I do that at night when I'm when he's falling asleep and eating, and I always say, "you're one of the good guys." I've done that since he was a teeny ol thang. Maybe that relaxes him because when I rub his head, he stops grabbing my face.Babies and the way they communicate are really funny. Just now while he was eating, I handed him one of Parisann's stuffed animals and he started giggling. So cute.
[Forgive me for the weird spacing issues. The space bar on this keyboard is out of control.]
So, we have a pretty eventful year coming up as we face our first deployment. I can't deny my gratitude for the blessing of having Derick here this whole time. He was actually supposed to have deployed a couple weeks before Reeve was born, and if he had, he would still be gone.Tough to imagine going all this time without introducing Reeve to his daddy, but I have some crazy strong friends who have dealt/are dealing with that. I'm so encouraged by the strength of military wives. There's something to be said about women who can just roll with the dang punches while their husbands are off fighting in a war. Puts a lot of stuff into perspective, really. I mean, how spoiled am I that my husband gets to come home (almost) every night and help me with our son? I pray for the same resilience that my friends have. Being away from the one you love is tough, whether it's a few hours or a few months. That stinks. But I love the encouragement I get from my friends who hold it down, and I love it when they are reunited with their Marines (or respective servicemember). My friend, Beth, just welcomed her Marine home this week, and I was just so happy for that little family.
Well, it's getting late around here, and I still have one of the good guys who probably needs a diaper change. BuenosNoche
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Trick
How long has it been since my last post? There for a while I was a blogging machine! Alas, a baby, a filthy house, a high-maintenance diva dog, and a military man can surely zap the time and energy out of ya. That's not a bad thing. Where the heck has the last year gone? Gosh, this time last year, I was newly-impregnated (thanks D and God), and I was beginning to feel the effects of such. Looking back, 2012 was the best year ever. All the puking (mine and Reeve's) and spitting (again, mine and Reeve's) and crying (you get the picture, right?) added up to give me such a joyful, humbling initiation to the greatest job on earth: motherhood. I love being a mom, and I hope that I'm not too terrible at it.
Reeve is pretty incredible. We hear all the time that he is the "happiest baby ever," and I agree. It makes me wonder, though, what if I had a turd of a baby? What if our baby behaved more like our Lhasa Apso (no offense, princess Paris)? I've had my share of breakdowns as a mother and Wearer of All Hats, but Reeve's especially calm and happy nature has helped me to not reach complete insanity. The "what if" lingers in the back of my mind, though, perhaps as a message of warning or a call for gratitude. Either way, I think this is how you get sucked into having multiple kids. For a few weeks, I was bound and determined to be the mother of ONE. Those first weeks were tough, I won't lie. We were trying to figure out breastfeeding and sleeping and just thinking straight. For the first time ever, I was convinced I wanted to have ONE child and ONE child only. Not because R was a bad baby, but because it's just a hard freakin' job, regardless if you are the mother of an angel baby or devil baby. It's difficult to go from "I" and "we" to "HIM." But time and prayer (LOTS of prayer) and understanding and SLEEP will eventually get you through those first weeks of adjustment. Then, you realize how much you love being a mom. Breastfeeding gets easier, the poop sessions become less frequent, you throw on a little bit of mascara and change out of your sweatpants and think, "Ok, maybe I'm not the world's worst mom." You decide that you could, one day in the faaaar future, possibly be responsible for another life. That's how you get tricked, and that's when the "what if" question presents itself. What if Reeve's good demeanor has spoiled me, and our next baby is a terror, and I lose my wits, and the poop hits the fan!? Then you look into the most beautiful eyes of the most perfect person ever created, and you realize that, even on the worst of the worst days, everything is and will always be worth it. This is NOT to say that we are planning to have another baby ANYTIME soon...but I'm trying to prove the point that being a mom is hard, but doable, and totally worth it.
Reeve is funny and smart. He loves to be scared. He loves when you wipe is face or pull clothes over his head. He loves to pinch his sister, and he is actually the only person who's ever gotten away with it. I hope that lasts. I think any day now he is going to roll from his back to his belly. He gets pretty dang close, but he gets stuck. Maybe I'll try to let him do it naked so he has more wiggle room. He sleeps from about 11-6 on a good night. On the worst night that we've had recently, he fell asleep at about 1230 and woke up a couple times after that. He can sleep until 11am or later. He is just like his mom, and I am not complaining one bit.
I've realized that it works best if I get my lazy butt up before he gets up so that I can have some time to myself (and Paris) before our days begin. Normally, I just make some coffee and watch Netflix and pet Paris, but sometimes I feel really domestic and do a load of laundry.
It's so nice to live on base because Derick works just five minutes down the road, and he comes home for lunch everyday. It's nice that Reeve gets that extra hour with him, and by that time, I really need to poop, so Daddy takes over.
Paris is slowly adjusting, and she gets better every day. She's always been extra kind to her brother, other than the occasional brisk sashay across his belly. She had a hard time in the beginning when I was alone and couldn't take her out to pee. A fence would have come in handy back then, but now that things are *a tad more* calm around here, we've figured out a slight routine, and she's doing better. I'm proud of my girl. She's very much a diva, and she was the only child for six years, so for her to do this well, I am grateful.
We've all changed by the presence of this little guy, but I think we are doing well. We are definitely having fun!!
Well, someone is ready for some attention, so excuse the errors. Editing is the last thing on my list. Right below shaving my legs. Have a wonderful weeeeeeeek:)
Reeve is pretty incredible. We hear all the time that he is the "happiest baby ever," and I agree. It makes me wonder, though, what if I had a turd of a baby? What if our baby behaved more like our Lhasa Apso (no offense, princess Paris)? I've had my share of breakdowns as a mother and Wearer of All Hats, but Reeve's especially calm and happy nature has helped me to not reach complete insanity. The "what if" lingers in the back of my mind, though, perhaps as a message of warning or a call for gratitude. Either way, I think this is how you get sucked into having multiple kids. For a few weeks, I was bound and determined to be the mother of ONE. Those first weeks were tough, I won't lie. We were trying to figure out breastfeeding and sleeping and just thinking straight. For the first time ever, I was convinced I wanted to have ONE child and ONE child only. Not because R was a bad baby, but because it's just a hard freakin' job, regardless if you are the mother of an angel baby or devil baby. It's difficult to go from "I" and "we" to "HIM." But time and prayer (LOTS of prayer) and understanding and SLEEP will eventually get you through those first weeks of adjustment. Then, you realize how much you love being a mom. Breastfeeding gets easier, the poop sessions become less frequent, you throw on a little bit of mascara and change out of your sweatpants and think, "Ok, maybe I'm not the world's worst mom." You decide that you could, one day in the faaaar future, possibly be responsible for another life. That's how you get tricked, and that's when the "what if" question presents itself. What if Reeve's good demeanor has spoiled me, and our next baby is a terror, and I lose my wits, and the poop hits the fan!? Then you look into the most beautiful eyes of the most perfect person ever created, and you realize that, even on the worst of the worst days, everything is and will always be worth it. This is NOT to say that we are planning to have another baby ANYTIME soon...but I'm trying to prove the point that being a mom is hard, but doable, and totally worth it.
Reeve is funny and smart. He loves to be scared. He loves when you wipe is face or pull clothes over his head. He loves to pinch his sister, and he is actually the only person who's ever gotten away with it. I hope that lasts. I think any day now he is going to roll from his back to his belly. He gets pretty dang close, but he gets stuck. Maybe I'll try to let him do it naked so he has more wiggle room. He sleeps from about 11-6 on a good night. On the worst night that we've had recently, he fell asleep at about 1230 and woke up a couple times after that. He can sleep until 11am or later. He is just like his mom, and I am not complaining one bit.
I've realized that it works best if I get my lazy butt up before he gets up so that I can have some time to myself (and Paris) before our days begin. Normally, I just make some coffee and watch Netflix and pet Paris, but sometimes I feel really domestic and do a load of laundry.
It's so nice to live on base because Derick works just five minutes down the road, and he comes home for lunch everyday. It's nice that Reeve gets that extra hour with him, and by that time, I really need to poop, so Daddy takes over.
Paris is slowly adjusting, and she gets better every day. She's always been extra kind to her brother, other than the occasional brisk sashay across his belly. She had a hard time in the beginning when I was alone and couldn't take her out to pee. A fence would have come in handy back then, but now that things are *a tad more* calm around here, we've figured out a slight routine, and she's doing better. I'm proud of my girl. She's very much a diva, and she was the only child for six years, so for her to do this well, I am grateful.
We've all changed by the presence of this little guy, but I think we are doing well. We are definitely having fun!!
Well, someone is ready for some attention, so excuse the errors. Editing is the last thing on my list. Right below shaving my legs. Have a wonderful weeeeeeeek:)
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