For the past five days I've been parenting on my own. Gilbert's been fishing in Louisiana with his dad, so from Thursday to Tuesday, I've been parenting solo.
Despite the fact that parenting alone during spring break meant neglecting a good bit of work, everything's gone really well. I made plans and stumbled upon plans to keep us busy, because I knew that if I spent the time at home playing referee to two brawling boys, I'd be N.U.T.S. by the time Gilbert got back home. So we made ourselves busy with visits to the following places: the library, my office, the neighbor's, the gym, the store, a birthday party, back to the store, back to the neighbor's, church, and LIFE group. We've had bed parties (some voluntary and some involuntary), made dinner, had baths, clipped fingernails, Skyped with Daddy, had dinner dates, and played outside. And, with the exception of battling my youngest at bed time, I've kept my sanity.
But Monday morning came along. I was beginning to see the light at the end of the single-parenting tunnel when I went outside to herd the boys into the van for school (where I planned to dump Beau, considering Monday's usually his day with Daddy); and the van wouldn't start. Normally in situations like this, I step inside or make a phone call in order to say this (imagine a slightly whiney tone): "Giiilberrrt. My car won't start." But I knew I couldn't do this. Instead, I traipsed over to the sweet, generous neighbor next door and instead said this (with as little whine as I could manage): "Amyyyyy. My car won't start." Thankfully she was willing to risk her big girls being late for school so that she could save me. Considering the fact that she's experienced true single parenting in her life, she knew how to manage in this situation. I did not. After getting the van started, I managed to get my boys to school only 20 minutes late. After dashing to an auto parts store to find out my battery was dead, then to Walmart to have it replaced, then to my office where I was 15 minutes late to a staff meeting, then, after only 45 minutes at the office, back to school to pick up the boys (7 minutes late), I began to wonder how in the world single parents manage.
I've always had a large amount of respect for parents who do it alone, and this was not my first chance at being home alone with my boys, but Monday confirmed the HUGE amount of respect I have for people who have no choice but to take care of their babies independently. I cannot imagine what their days are like. So, here's my salute to you, single parents. I know your daily schedule is relentless, so I'll be praying for you tonight--asking for God's strength and guidance in your daily decision making and balancing acts and thanking Him that he's made you strong enough to keep your kids not only alive but well. I'm impressed.
4.03.2012
3.19.2012
Singing Boys
Look at this video of my sweet Cole when he was two-years-old singing "I Know That My Redeemer Lives."
Isn't he adorable? Sweet, mild-mannered, calm (well, mostly). Now take a look at the wild side of adorable: two-year-old Beau.
This boy's our musically inclined, creative, free-spirit of a child. Cole's definitely fun too, but in much different ways.
If I were to list all that these two videos highlight about the differences in my two boys, it would take me all night. But I'm head-over-heels crazy about both of them.
3.03.2012
Hiatus
Well, Facebook's given me a LONG hiatus from blogging, but, as many of you know, I've decided to cut-back on Facebook time and focus on other things that are more important and that are healthier choices for me. So I hope to be using some of that extra time that I anticipate having by sharing my life through my blog. (And I'm going to make my best effort to keep this thing going without sacrificing precious time.)
My original purpose in starting this blog was to invite far-away friends and family to watch my sweet little one-year-old Cole grow-up. Now that Cole's a big brother (and a fine one at that--despite the fact that he enjoys torturing his brother, he's also capable of being gentle and sweet; tonight he helped him get ready for bed by brushing his hair, diapering him, and putting his pajamas on), I've got at least twice as many adventures to share in the way of motherhood.
I hope, though, to refrain from using this avenue solely for kid stories and photos that I think are cute. (Like this one.)
That's what the blog had come to before I slipped away for a while, and while I hope that you'll love those parts of my writing, I also hope to use my blog to share other parts of my life as well--my hopes, my struggles, my joys, and my successes in work, in marriage, and in my faith-walk. Because I'm trying to be relentless in my quest to be real, to be honest, and to be who God is calling me to be.
My original purpose in starting this blog was to invite far-away friends and family to watch my sweet little one-year-old Cole grow-up. Now that Cole's a big brother (and a fine one at that--despite the fact that he enjoys torturing his brother, he's also capable of being gentle and sweet; tonight he helped him get ready for bed by brushing his hair, diapering him, and putting his pajamas on), I've got at least twice as many adventures to share in the way of motherhood.
I hope, though, to refrain from using this avenue solely for kid stories and photos that I think are cute. (Like this one.)
That's what the blog had come to before I slipped away for a while, and while I hope that you'll love those parts of my writing, I also hope to use my blog to share other parts of my life as well--my hopes, my struggles, my joys, and my successes in work, in marriage, and in my faith-walk. Because I'm trying to be relentless in my quest to be real, to be honest, and to be who God is calling me to be.
8.18.2010
A Hilarious Cole Story (R-rated--be warned)
Cole was in the tub tonight playing. He had a cup he was using to scoop water. I was at the sink with my back to him.
C: Mom, look what I've got. I have Better Boobie Lotion. (As he's talking, he pours the water onto his nipples.)
K: What does that stuff do for you?
C: I don't know. Make your boobies better or sumpin'.
He's still got it. What's funny (or scary) is that he's getting to the age that he's starting to say those things because he anticipates that I'll laugh at them, not because he's naturally funny. Which he is that too.
C: Mom, look what I've got. I have Better Boobie Lotion. (As he's talking, he pours the water onto his nipples.)
K: What does that stuff do for you?
C: I don't know. Make your boobies better or sumpin'.
He's still got it. What's funny (or scary) is that he's getting to the age that he's starting to say those things because he anticipates that I'll laugh at them, not because he's naturally funny. Which he is that too.
4.29.2010
The Alphabet, remixed
Cole: ABCDEFGHIJK(emomeno)PQRXT(too)PWXYandZ. Now your ABC is here. Next time won't you sing with me?
Kate: Why are there two X's in the alphabet?
Cole: Because God wanted there to be two X's in the ABC's.
LOVE IT! Gilbert mentioned trying to correct him. I say, eventually he'll figure it out, and if I had corrected it, I couldn't have gotten this adorable response.
Kate: Why are there two X's in the alphabet?
Cole: Because God wanted there to be two X's in the ABC's.
LOVE IT! Gilbert mentioned trying to correct him. I say, eventually he'll figure it out, and if I had corrected it, I couldn't have gotten this adorable response.
4.04.2010
A More Positive 101
I was thinking last night while lying in bed about how much I LOVE being a mom, so I thought I'd share the few reasons that I was thinking of at that moment:
1. Stepping over tiny Converse that have been sitting by my bedside table for the last week.
2. Pushing toy cars and pacifiers to the edge of my bedside table so I'll be able to see my alarm clock in the morning.
3. Climbing into bed and having to sweep crumbs out from Sunday morning's cereal spill before I can fall asleep. (This morning we had "Cocoa Fluffs.")
And one that I would have been thinking of if I'd heard it before this morning:
4. Cole singing I Will Call Upon the Lord this way: "The Lord limit, and bless (mumbling) rock, God's alvation be exhausted." I didn't even know he knew it. "We sing that at my school, Mom."
They're both pretty awesome kids. I am blessed, for sure. Being a mom is definitely on the short list of "Best Things I've Ever Done."
This is Cole showing Beau his new Bakugans. (Pronounced by Cole as "back-you-gun." Who knows the real pronunciation, but I've had lessons in Cole's method.) He actually studied the pictures in the manual and discovered all by himself that the pieces would fit together, and put it all together himself. But don't be fooled into thinking that in this picture he's sharing his "backugun." Just letting little brother look from a distance.
1. Stepping over tiny Converse that have been sitting by my bedside table for the last week.
2. Pushing toy cars and pacifiers to the edge of my bedside table so I'll be able to see my alarm clock in the morning.
3. Climbing into bed and having to sweep crumbs out from Sunday morning's cereal spill before I can fall asleep. (This morning we had "Cocoa Fluffs.")
And one that I would have been thinking of if I'd heard it before this morning:
4. Cole singing I Will Call Upon the Lord this way: "The Lord limit, and bless (mumbling) rock, God's alvation be exhausted." I didn't even know he knew it. "We sing that at my school, Mom."
They're both pretty awesome kids. I am blessed, for sure. Being a mom is definitely on the short list of "Best Things I've Ever Done."
This is Cole showing Beau his new Bakugans. (Pronounced by Cole as "back-you-gun." Who knows the real pronunciation, but I've had lessons in Cole's method.) He actually studied the pictures in the manual and discovered all by himself that the pieces would fit together, and put it all together himself. But don't be fooled into thinking that in this picture he's sharing his "backugun." Just letting little brother look from a distance.
3.08.2010
My 100th post
What a lame, lame excuse for a 100th post. I was logging on, trying to decide the most appropriate title for this downer post, when I noticed that I'd posted 99 times. This would be number 100. It should be a celebration, I think. But instead, I'm opting for a vent session. I hope you're prepared for this one.
I. Am. Totally. Overwhelmed.
Shock of all shocks, I know.
My house is a train-wreck. A pig-sty. A disaster area. No joke. I'm not one of those people who says, "Whew. My house is a wreck," when it really isn't. This is a lame attempt at making those of us in the true pig-sties feel better. But it doesn't. It only makes us feel worse about ourselves.
I'm just going to be totally, up-front honest about things. My kitchen floor was swept for the first time yesterday since February 7th. Yes. I remember the exact date. I can't even begin to guess when it was mopped last. January, I'm sure. And it's obvious. Chocolate milk spots I didn't get to before they were almost dry. Chocolate icing splattered on the floor. Kool-aid in one place, spaghetti sauce in another. And when I swept yesterday, dust flew everywhere. I'm not joking.
The toilets have rings around them. The bathtub drains are yucky too. The mirrors have toothpaste splattered all over.
The living room was last vaccumed on February 14th, only because we had movie night with 7 boys, and the popcorn could not be overlooked. Trust me. If it could have been, it would have. I killed a spider the other night under the coffee table and just rolled the coffee table back into place on top of it.
And I've only mentioned the most traveled areas of the house.
It's ridiculous.
And I've been feeling okay about it all, trying to remind my
self of all those people who've said that when my boys are big, it won't matter how messy my house was when they were growing up. I've been hoping that's true.
But tonight, as I looked at Cole's too-long, dirty, sticky fingernails I asked myself, "Exactly what am I doing around here? My children aren't even properly groomed for Pete's sake."
They're dressed and fed (although judging from Beau's placement on the percentile chart these days, that is debateable too; and it's only true for Cole with thanks to McDonald's or Culver's or Moe's). That's about all I can say.
What am I doing well these days, you wonder?
1. Washing bottles
2. Pumping breastmilk
3. Smooching on boys
Okay, so now I'm at the point in the post that I realize how pathetic I sound. So I guess I'll put you people out of your misery. [In proofreading, I just realized another thing that I can say about my boys. They're HAPPY. I guess I should get over myself, huh?]
Just needed a vent session. Happy 100th post! Yay! (That's about all the celebration you people are going to get. What do you want from me? I'm exhausted.)
** And don't even think about sending me some feel-better comment if you see your counter top for more than two days consecutively, or if you saw your counter-top for more than two days consecutively when your children were young. (Smile)
I. Am. Totally. Overwhelmed.
Shock of all shocks, I know.
My house is a train-wreck. A pig-sty. A disaster area. No joke. I'm not one of those people who says, "Whew. My house is a wreck," when it really isn't. This is a lame attempt at making those of us in the true pig-sties feel better. But it doesn't. It only makes us feel worse about ourselves.
I'm just going to be totally, up-front honest about things. My kitchen floor was swept for the first time yesterday since February 7th. Yes. I remember the exact date. I can't even begin to guess when it was mopped last. January, I'm sure. And it's obvious. Chocolate milk spots I didn't get to before they were almost dry. Chocolate icing splattered on the floor. Kool-aid in one place, spaghetti sauce in another. And when I swept yesterday, dust flew everywhere. I'm not joking.
The toilets have rings around them. The bathtub drains are yucky too. The mirrors have toothpaste splattered all over.
The living room was last vaccumed on February 14th, only because we had movie night with 7 boys, and the popcorn could not be overlooked. Trust me. If it could have been, it would have. I killed a spider the other night under the coffee table and just rolled the coffee table back into place on top of it.
And I've only mentioned the most traveled areas of the house.
It's ridiculous.
And I've been feeling okay about it all, trying to remind my
self of all those people who've said that when my boys are big, it won't matter how messy my house was when they were growing up. I've been hoping that's true.
But tonight, as I looked at Cole's too-long, dirty, sticky fingernails I asked myself, "Exactly what am I doing around here? My children aren't even properly groomed for Pete's sake."
They're dressed and fed (although judging from Beau's placement on the percentile chart these days, that is debateable too; and it's only true for Cole with thanks to McDonald's or Culver's or Moe's). That's about all I can say.
What am I doing well these days, you wonder?
1. Washing bottles
2. Pumping breastmilk
3. Smooching on boys
Okay, so now I'm at the point in the post that I realize how pathetic I sound. So I guess I'll put you people out of your misery. [In proofreading, I just realized another thing that I can say about my boys. They're HAPPY. I guess I should get over myself, huh?]
Just needed a vent session. Happy 100th post! Yay! (That's about all the celebration you people are going to get. What do you want from me? I'm exhausted.)
** And don't even think about sending me some feel-better comment if you see your counter top for more than two days consecutively, or if you saw your counter-top for more than two days consecutively when your children were young. (Smile)
1.31.2010
Growing Up is Hard to Do
Cole, crying: I don't want to be a big brother anymore. I want to be little!
Me: What do little brothers do that big brothers can't do?
C: Play with little toys.
Poor baby. After I brought him a rattle, swaddled him, carried him to his room like a baby, and fed him chocolate chip cookies (making sure to remind him that big brothers can eat cookies but little brothers can't) he felt better.
Me: What do little brothers do that big brothers can't do?
C: Play with little toys.
Poor baby. After I brought him a rattle, swaddled him, carried him to his room like a baby, and fed him chocolate chip cookies (making sure to remind him that big brothers can eat cookies but little brothers can't) he felt better.
12.12.2009
Comparisons
I've been meaning to try this for a while, and since I've finally gotten my pictures updated on my computer, I thought I'd try it (even though I should totally be in bed right now). The names are below the pictures.
BEAU
COLE
BEAU
COLE
BEAU
COLE
BEAU
COLE
I've been thinking Beau looks a lot like Cole did, but now I'm sure he doesn't. They might pass as brothers, but they definitely have their own unique features.
And while I'm at it, something I've been doing lately to depress myself...
+of+November+09+010.jpg)
Pretty amazing, huh? My little guy's growing up. (Boo-hoo)
BEAU
COLE
BEAU
COLE
BEAU
COLE
BEAU
COLE
I've been thinking Beau looks a lot like Cole did, but now I'm sure he doesn't. They might pass as brothers, but they definitely have their own unique features.
And while I'm at it, something I've been doing lately to depress myself...
+of+November+09+010.jpg)
Pretty amazing, huh? My little guy's growing up. (Boo-hoo)
12.02.2009
This Boy is Just Too Funny
I could post a series of funny conversations with Cole at the end of every day. Really. Here are a few I've had lately.
On Thanksgiving, at the dinner table:
Cole: "Mom, what's that?"
Kate: "Peas."
C: "Peas like a river?"
I noticed Cole picking his nose, so I asked if he had a booger on his finger. When he told me he did, and I wasn't successful at finding a tissue, I told him that sometimes it's okay to just drop in on the ground (good parental advice, I know). He looked at me, wrinkled his nose, and said, "Can I just eat it?"
Today Cole asked me to carry him when we were leaving church. I carried him as long as I could until I got ready to get Beau ready to be carried out.
Cole: "When you're ready to carry me again, just let me know."
He went into Gilbert's office today and saw lots of gifts delivered by members for the Christmas for Everyone program.
C: What are those?
Gilbert: Those are gifts for kids.
C: Huh. Funny.
He loves to get wild when we're dressing him, especially if he's on the bed. It is MADDENING. It's one of those times when I really want to spank his bottom. Tonight I overheard, from Beau's room, him giving Gilbert a hard time tonight. Gilbert was begging him to calm down and get dressed.
K: "Cole, please let Daddy get you dressed."
C: "Mom, that's not dressed. That's clothes."
K: "Please let daddy get your clothes on."
C: "That's not clothes. That's p.j.'s."
(Gilbert snickers.)
C (to Daddy, quietly): "I did that all by myself."
On Thanksgiving, at the dinner table:
Cole: "Mom, what's that?"
Kate: "Peas."
C: "Peas like a river?"
I noticed Cole picking his nose, so I asked if he had a booger on his finger. When he told me he did, and I wasn't successful at finding a tissue, I told him that sometimes it's okay to just drop in on the ground (good parental advice, I know). He looked at me, wrinkled his nose, and said, "Can I just eat it?"
Today Cole asked me to carry him when we were leaving church. I carried him as long as I could until I got ready to get Beau ready to be carried out.
Cole: "When you're ready to carry me again, just let me know."
He went into Gilbert's office today and saw lots of gifts delivered by members for the Christmas for Everyone program.
C: What are those?
Gilbert: Those are gifts for kids.
C: Huh. Funny.
He loves to get wild when we're dressing him, especially if he's on the bed. It is MADDENING. It's one of those times when I really want to spank his bottom. Tonight I overheard, from Beau's room, him giving Gilbert a hard time tonight. Gilbert was begging him to calm down and get dressed.
K: "Cole, please let Daddy get you dressed."
C: "Mom, that's not dressed. That's clothes."
K: "Please let daddy get your clothes on."
C: "That's not clothes. That's p.j.'s."
(Gilbert snickers.)
C (to Daddy, quietly): "I did that all by myself."
11.03.2009
My Funny Guy
Thought I'd share a few stories about Cole that have cracked me up lately:
Story #1:
He and I were playing outside. He was riding around in his Power Wheels Jeep, so he invited me to ride with him.
Kate: I'm sorry, but Mom's too big to ride in the Jeep.
Cole: Okay, Giant!
(So maybe this one isn't SO funny, but it cracked me up.)
Story #2:
(Beware, Lee. This may contain too much information for you. And I'm singling you out because I think you may be the only male reader of my blog, other than Gilbert, and he's used to being provided with too much information. Just thought I'd warn you.)
I've been working VERY hard to shelter Cole from my "getting milk for Beau," if you know what I mean. I must say that it's VERY difficult. Every time I've pumped with him in the house, he's been exposed to a little more and a little more. Finally the other day, as I sat huddled in the closet, I felt the door open behind me, and this time he saw much more than I wanted him to.
Later that day we were outside playing with water guns, so, in an effort to save time and energy, I brought out a cup of water and a funnel for re-loading. While we were playing, a ladybug flew over and landed on Cole's chest. He took the funnel and tried to trap it on his chest. After looking down at the funnel for a second, his face lit up, he smiled, and he said, "Look, Mom. A boobie!"
Story #3:
I tried to draw a picture of Curious George for Cole a few weeks ago. Because of my lack of artistic talent, the only thing about the picture that looked like a monkey was the tail. But Cole said that monkeys don't have tails. We argued about this for a while, until we both let it go. Then today when Curious George came on (and I'd long forgotten about the tail argument), Cole said, "See, Mom. Look at him bottom. He doesn't have a tail." (Why is that, anyway? Why would Curious George not have a tail? Don't all monkeys have tails?!?)
Story #4:
We were eating lasagna for supper a few nights ago, and Cole kept dropping pieces onto his lap. So I jokingly said, "Should I get you a bib?" He got a look of panic on his face and said, "No. I don't want a bib." So I explained that I was kidding and that he's too big for a bib. About 10 minutes later I dropped a little lasagna onto my lap and, without a second's hesitation, Cole said, "Do you need a bib?" I think he's destined to have his daddy's wit. Great.
Story #5:
And speaking of Daddy's wit, tonight Gilbert invited Cole to pull his finger. After Gilbert provided him with the appropriate (or inappropriate) result, Cole scrunched his nose up and said, "You need to take a bath."
I'm loving his sense of humor these days. And to be honest, I'd love it if he ended up with his daddy's wit.
Story #1:
He and I were playing outside. He was riding around in his Power Wheels Jeep, so he invited me to ride with him.
Kate: I'm sorry, but Mom's too big to ride in the Jeep.
Cole: Okay, Giant!
(So maybe this one isn't SO funny, but it cracked me up.)
Story #2:
(Beware, Lee. This may contain too much information for you. And I'm singling you out because I think you may be the only male reader of my blog, other than Gilbert, and he's used to being provided with too much information. Just thought I'd warn you.)
I've been working VERY hard to shelter Cole from my "getting milk for Beau," if you know what I mean. I must say that it's VERY difficult. Every time I've pumped with him in the house, he's been exposed to a little more and a little more. Finally the other day, as I sat huddled in the closet, I felt the door open behind me, and this time he saw much more than I wanted him to.
Later that day we were outside playing with water guns, so, in an effort to save time and energy, I brought out a cup of water and a funnel for re-loading. While we were playing, a ladybug flew over and landed on Cole's chest. He took the funnel and tried to trap it on his chest. After looking down at the funnel for a second, his face lit up, he smiled, and he said, "Look, Mom. A boobie!"
Story #3:
I tried to draw a picture of Curious George for Cole a few weeks ago. Because of my lack of artistic talent, the only thing about the picture that looked like a monkey was the tail. But Cole said that monkeys don't have tails. We argued about this for a while, until we both let it go. Then today when Curious George came on (and I'd long forgotten about the tail argument), Cole said, "See, Mom. Look at him bottom. He doesn't have a tail." (Why is that, anyway? Why would Curious George not have a tail? Don't all monkeys have tails?!?)
Story #4:
We were eating lasagna for supper a few nights ago, and Cole kept dropping pieces onto his lap. So I jokingly said, "Should I get you a bib?" He got a look of panic on his face and said, "No. I don't want a bib." So I explained that I was kidding and that he's too big for a bib. About 10 minutes later I dropped a little lasagna onto my lap and, without a second's hesitation, Cole said, "Do you need a bib?" I think he's destined to have his daddy's wit. Great.
Story #5:
And speaking of Daddy's wit, tonight Gilbert invited Cole to pull his finger. After Gilbert provided him with the appropriate (or inappropriate) result, Cole scrunched his nose up and said, "You need to take a bath."
I'm loving his sense of humor these days. And to be honest, I'd love it if he ended up with his daddy's wit.
10.06.2009
Where I Am Right Now
Let me deliver this stream-of-conscious information to you with a caveat: I am not suffering from postpartum depression. I do not feel the desire to hurt myself or my baby. And I promise I'm not making light of situations that involve women who have or do feel this way. I guess this is my way of saying, "I understand how one can get there." But don't be worried about me after you read this post, please.
As I hope you all know (although it would be my fault if you didn't), our sweet Beau Asher has graced our lives with his presence. He has been with us for more than two weeks now. And he is such a joy and a blessing. Sweet, mostly mild-mannered, sleeps well, eats well, fun to be around.
However, I'm sharing with you where I am right now. I just went to the bathroom for the first time since 8 this morning. That's 11 hours ago. I'm starved, even though I just snacked not very long ago. So as I type, I'm taking breaks to scarf down leftovers. Lots of carbs. My right boob is hurting--again. But in a different spot this time. It's 7 p.m. To me this means two things: Cole's going to need a bath soon, and Beau's going to need lots, LOTS of TLC soon, because he's about to get very fussy for about 3 hours. And after Cole's bath, he's going to need to be put to bed. And I'm exhausted.
Did I have a nap today? No. I chose to go shopping for real shirts today instead of maternity clothes during my nap time. Nice to have the clothes; not nice to be sleep deprived. And Beau napped the entire time I shopped. Nice to have the ability to focus; not nice to be sleep deprived.
As I'm typing, Cole's piling a million CD's into my lap for some reason. And honestly, I'm trying to pretend he's not doing that. He's asking to listen to some annoying lady sing songs about him. "This song is for COLE, he's a special boy..." I just don't think I can handle that.
And bed time right now sounds great. But Biggest Loser is coming on in 50 minutes, and I really want to watch it. Looks like I'm making some choices today, huh?
I need to hear this is normal. I don't need to be scolded. I know I should nap when the baby's napping. I know Cole needs me to give him attention. (Now he's wadding up scraps of paper and chunking them at me while I search frantically for my happy place.) But honestly, I know I should have napped today, and to be frank, I think I'm doing pretty well not to yell at Cole for being himself--funny but with annoying tendencies.
So, that's where I am. I'm not really going crazy, but I need a break. I'd take a 24 hour break if it didn't mean I'd have to strap myself to a breast pump 8 times over the course of my break. So what I'm saying is that I'll go back to what I was doing 10 minutes ago. I'll get up from here, give Cole his bath, rush him to the bed in hopes that I haven't missed too much Biggest Loser, latch that baby on "to feed" (as Gilbert says) and hope that pep-talk I gave Beau about not being fussy tonight actually works. Because I guess this brief pause I allowed myself is all the break I'm going to be getting.
As I hope you all know (although it would be my fault if you didn't), our sweet Beau Asher has graced our lives with his presence. He has been with us for more than two weeks now. And he is such a joy and a blessing. Sweet, mostly mild-mannered, sleeps well, eats well, fun to be around.
However, I'm sharing with you where I am right now. I just went to the bathroom for the first time since 8 this morning. That's 11 hours ago. I'm starved, even though I just snacked not very long ago. So as I type, I'm taking breaks to scarf down leftovers. Lots of carbs. My right boob is hurting--again. But in a different spot this time. It's 7 p.m. To me this means two things: Cole's going to need a bath soon, and Beau's going to need lots, LOTS of TLC soon, because he's about to get very fussy for about 3 hours. And after Cole's bath, he's going to need to be put to bed. And I'm exhausted.
Did I have a nap today? No. I chose to go shopping for real shirts today instead of maternity clothes during my nap time. Nice to have the clothes; not nice to be sleep deprived. And Beau napped the entire time I shopped. Nice to have the ability to focus; not nice to be sleep deprived.
As I'm typing, Cole's piling a million CD's into my lap for some reason. And honestly, I'm trying to pretend he's not doing that. He's asking to listen to some annoying lady sing songs about him. "This song is for COLE, he's a special boy..." I just don't think I can handle that.
And bed time right now sounds great. But Biggest Loser is coming on in 50 minutes, and I really want to watch it. Looks like I'm making some choices today, huh?
I need to hear this is normal. I don't need to be scolded. I know I should nap when the baby's napping. I know Cole needs me to give him attention. (Now he's wadding up scraps of paper and chunking them at me while I search frantically for my happy place.) But honestly, I know I should have napped today, and to be frank, I think I'm doing pretty well not to yell at Cole for being himself--funny but with annoying tendencies.
So, that's where I am. I'm not really going crazy, but I need a break. I'd take a 24 hour break if it didn't mean I'd have to strap myself to a breast pump 8 times over the course of my break. So what I'm saying is that I'll go back to what I was doing 10 minutes ago. I'll get up from here, give Cole his bath, rush him to the bed in hopes that I haven't missed too much Biggest Loser, latch that baby on "to feed" (as Gilbert says) and hope that pep-talk I gave Beau about not being fussy tonight actually works. Because I guess this brief pause I allowed myself is all the break I'm going to be getting.
8.06.2009
A funny (and crude) story...I guess I should get used to crude around here
A conversation with Cole this morning (I love doing these):
(Cole stands in front of me in his underwear, and he pulls them down just enough to show me his bottom.)
C: Mom, smell my bottom. It's stinky.
K: I don't want to smell your stinky bottom.
C: No, smell my bottom.
K: I'm not gonna smell your bottom.
C: (dramatically) You hate me.
K: I don't hate you. You know I love you very much, but I'm not sure I love you enough to smell your stinky bottom.
C: It's not stinky!
Oh my. What does my future hold?
(Cole stands in front of me in his underwear, and he pulls them down just enough to show me his bottom.)
C: Mom, smell my bottom. It's stinky.
K: I don't want to smell your stinky bottom.
C: No, smell my bottom.
K: I'm not gonna smell your bottom.
C: (dramatically) You hate me.
K: I don't hate you. You know I love you very much, but I'm not sure I love you enough to smell your stinky bottom.
C: It's not stinky!
Oh my. What does my future hold?
8.04.2009
The Bus Ride
Today I planned for Cole and myself to take the city bus to the library (two things we haven't done this summer, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone [yes, I should be ashamed that we haven't been to the library all summer]). Cole has been fascinated with school buses and city buses for as long as he could inquire about them, and our bus tour on a converted school bus with cows painted on the side at Fair Oaks Farms, an awesome, fun dairy farm between here and Chicago, sent him over the edge. He had to have another experience with a bus. It was just too much for him to do without.
So I got online and learned about riding the Lafayette CityBus system--how to get on the bus, how to pay, and which was the correct bus for us to ride if we wanted to go from the closest stop for us (the Meijer store) to the library. Then I got on the Weather Channel website and made sure that we wouldn't be walking to our bus stop in the rain. The forecast was storms in at 6 a.m., cloudy all day, and then storms again around 4 p.m. So we were all set. And this morning, as we discussed our plans, Cole was thrilled and I was nervous.
We made it to Meijer just as the bus was pulling in to the parking lot, so we jogged to the stop, climbed on, put our money in, and chose a seat that put Cole's little head below the windows. But this boy was as content as could be. He didn't want to move and he didn't want to sit in my lap so he could see the diggers working on State Road 26. "I fine," he said, after having to answer my million questions that would enable him to be "fine" in my book. Such a big guy. And he asked his own million questions along the way, about the lights, the red levers on the emergency windows, the pull-cords that let the driver know when we need to get off.
We were delivered safely to our stop, and we walked the rest of the way to the library. When he got there he walked right up to the librarian and inquired where he might find Arthur and Curious George, and he proceeded to pick out his books. Then we got comfy and read a book, then chose an Arthur video, then pottied, and then headed out for the maybe 4 block walk to the bus stop.
Just as we got there I saw a bus pass by and wondered if it was ours, running a little early, but I knew another would come before too long, so I didn't sweat it. As we crossed the street to the corner, I pointed out to Cole that the sky to the left of us was extremely dark. And before long, those dark clouds were rolling right over us. But still, I was remembering the Weather Channel and was not concerned. Even when the huge rain drops started falling, we stood by a tree to stay pretty dry, and I was still not worried... until the lightening and thunder started, and two buses passed us on the opposite side of the road. So I started to consider that maybe we should be boarding the bus on that side of the road. So we crossed over and stood under the overhang of the Journal and Courier's private employee entrance. Despite being asked about 4 times by the sweet employees to come inside, I knew that we would not see the bus approaching if we went inside. So we continued to wait, watching both sides of the road for a bus to come. And I asked Cole numerous times, "Should we call Daddy, or do you want to wait for the bus?" "Let's wait for the bus," he'd say, with drippy hair and chattering teeth. Until finally, after probably 20 minutes, I did see a bus coming from the opposite direction. So I did a jay-walk move, running across to the other side so the driver would stop for me (I learned that on one of the videos I watched last night--if you're not on the correct side of the road, they won't stop for you.) I waved him down, and we were safely headed back.
And as Cole shivered on the bus seat, he still refused to let me hold him in my lap. He was taking this like a man. And the thought I couldn't get out of my mind was this: Had I been experiencing this by myself, I would have been nervous and grumpy. But having Cole there to experience it with me made it more of an adventure. I knew we were safe and that we'd eventually get where we needed to be. And as often as I'm reminded that many things in my life become a little more complicated with a boy standing at my feet, some things become more enjoyable with that little guy there with me. So despite the rain and wet, it was a good trip. And before we were even halfway back he was already asking when we could ride again. I would say that meant it was all worth it.
So I got online and learned about riding the Lafayette CityBus system--how to get on the bus, how to pay, and which was the correct bus for us to ride if we wanted to go from the closest stop for us (the Meijer store) to the library. Then I got on the Weather Channel website and made sure that we wouldn't be walking to our bus stop in the rain. The forecast was storms in at 6 a.m., cloudy all day, and then storms again around 4 p.m. So we were all set. And this morning, as we discussed our plans, Cole was thrilled and I was nervous.
We made it to Meijer just as the bus was pulling in to the parking lot, so we jogged to the stop, climbed on, put our money in, and chose a seat that put Cole's little head below the windows. But this boy was as content as could be. He didn't want to move and he didn't want to sit in my lap so he could see the diggers working on State Road 26. "I fine," he said, after having to answer my million questions that would enable him to be "fine" in my book. Such a big guy. And he asked his own million questions along the way, about the lights, the red levers on the emergency windows, the pull-cords that let the driver know when we need to get off.
We were delivered safely to our stop, and we walked the rest of the way to the library. When he got there he walked right up to the librarian and inquired where he might find Arthur and Curious George, and he proceeded to pick out his books. Then we got comfy and read a book, then chose an Arthur video, then pottied, and then headed out for the maybe 4 block walk to the bus stop.
Just as we got there I saw a bus pass by and wondered if it was ours, running a little early, but I knew another would come before too long, so I didn't sweat it. As we crossed the street to the corner, I pointed out to Cole that the sky to the left of us was extremely dark. And before long, those dark clouds were rolling right over us. But still, I was remembering the Weather Channel and was not concerned. Even when the huge rain drops started falling, we stood by a tree to stay pretty dry, and I was still not worried... until the lightening and thunder started, and two buses passed us on the opposite side of the road. So I started to consider that maybe we should be boarding the bus on that side of the road. So we crossed over and stood under the overhang of the Journal and Courier's private employee entrance. Despite being asked about 4 times by the sweet employees to come inside, I knew that we would not see the bus approaching if we went inside. So we continued to wait, watching both sides of the road for a bus to come. And I asked Cole numerous times, "Should we call Daddy, or do you want to wait for the bus?" "Let's wait for the bus," he'd say, with drippy hair and chattering teeth. Until finally, after probably 20 minutes, I did see a bus coming from the opposite direction. So I did a jay-walk move, running across to the other side so the driver would stop for me (I learned that on one of the videos I watched last night--if you're not on the correct side of the road, they won't stop for you.) I waved him down, and we were safely headed back.
And as Cole shivered on the bus seat, he still refused to let me hold him in my lap. He was taking this like a man. And the thought I couldn't get out of my mind was this: Had I been experiencing this by myself, I would have been nervous and grumpy. But having Cole there to experience it with me made it more of an adventure. I knew we were safe and that we'd eventually get where we needed to be. And as often as I'm reminded that many things in my life become a little more complicated with a boy standing at my feet, some things become more enjoyable with that little guy there with me. So despite the rain and wet, it was a good trip. And before we were even halfway back he was already asking when we could ride again. I would say that meant it was all worth it.
7.18.2009
Cole and his brother
Every time I pass through Bowling Green, I itch to have pictures taken by Melissa DeVries. She does such a good job! So this time when I passed through (toward the end of June), I set up a time with her and had some done. I'd wanted a few good pictures of Cole and his baby brother before he actually came along, and that's just what I got!
I LOVE that Cole already likes to interact with Brother (although when he gets here he might feel differently for a while!) He cracks up when he's sitting or lying next to me and he feels him moving. He says, "Mom, Baby Brother wiggling?" He also says, "Mom, tell Baby Brother to watch me." So I have to pull up my shirt and make BB "watch" while Cole does something interesting like flop on his bottom on the couch, do a flip, or jump on the bed. The other day when the baby moved and Cole felt him, he said, "What's Baby Brother doing?" So I said, "He's probably practicing that flip you taught him the other day." Cole just grinned.
So I wanted Melissa to capture his excitement about his brother, even if he doesn't totally get what's going on. As you'll see, she did an awesome job.
I LOVE that Cole already likes to interact with Brother (although when he gets here he might feel differently for a while!) He cracks up when he's sitting or lying next to me and he feels him moving. He says, "Mom, Baby Brother wiggling?" He also says, "Mom, tell Baby Brother to watch me." So I have to pull up my shirt and make BB "watch" while Cole does something interesting like flop on his bottom on the couch, do a flip, or jump on the bed. The other day when the baby moved and Cole felt him, he said, "What's Baby Brother doing?" So I said, "He's probably practicing that flip you taught him the other day." Cole just grinned.
So I wanted Melissa to capture his excitement about his brother, even if he doesn't totally get what's going on. As you'll see, she did an awesome job.
7.13.2009
I'm doing this to myself again?
Maybe it's because I kind of liked seeing pictures of myself in the same position almost exactly three years later, or maybe I'm a glutton for punishment and low self-esteem, or maybe this time I'm thinking that I'm not going to look as rough in this current picture as I did in the last one, but I'm posting a "pregnant now" picture vs. a "pregnant then" picture again. Let's see if I feel any better about myself this time...
This is me today.
This was me on June 15, 2006, with a sweet Cole in my belly. (Maybe about 29 wks?) Right now I'm 31 weeks, somewhere between the above...
and this one on July 15, 2006. (About 33 weeks?)
So I don't look quite as tired today at 2:30 in the afternoon as I did at about 10 p.m. in the last picture I had Gilbert take. I do think I look a little more like a mom in today's picture. Hmmm. As much as I risk lowering my self-esteem by comparing this pregnancy to the last one (including weight gain by the dr. visit!), I do kind of like doing it. Am I nuts or what?
This is me today.
This was me on June 15, 2006, with a sweet Cole in my belly. (Maybe about 29 wks?) Right now I'm 31 weeks, somewhere between the above...
and this one on July 15, 2006. (About 33 weeks?)
So I don't look quite as tired today at 2:30 in the afternoon as I did at about 10 p.m. in the last picture I had Gilbert take. I do think I look a little more like a mom in today's picture. Hmmm. As much as I risk lowering my self-esteem by comparing this pregnancy to the last one (including weight gain by the dr. visit!), I do kind of like doing it. Am I nuts or what?
Beach Photos
We just got back a few days ago from a week in Destin with my parents, my little sis, and my niece. We had lots of fun. Just wanted to share a few photos with you. (Some of you may have already seen many of these on fb.)
6.12.2009
More funny conversations with Cole
Conversation #1:
Gilbert's getting ready for work and Cole walks in while he's putting gel in his hair.
Cole: Daddy, what you doing?
Gilbert: Putting gel in my hair.
C: Why?
G: So I can pick up chicks.
Later, at the mall:
Kate: Cole, we need to go show Daddy your new glove and bat (Yeah, the real deal. I couldn't say no.)
C: No, Daddy's picking up chicks.
Conversation #2:
K: Cole, it's bed time.
C: No, I don't need to go to bed. I happy.
Conversation #3:
After finishing his bedtime story:
C: Mom, you lay down with me?
K: Not tonight. I'm going to go downstairs.
C: No. You tired. Let me see...(as he pokes his fingers into my mouth and pries my jaws open) Yeah. Your mouth is tired. Let me see... Eww! You got dirt in your mouth!
K: Uh-oh. What should I do? Brush my teeth?
C: No. Spit it out.
Then, after he schools me in the right way to spit dirt out into his hand:
C: I'll put it in the flowers tomorrow.
Love, love, loving this age. I need to be writing more down.
Gilbert's getting ready for work and Cole walks in while he's putting gel in his hair.
Cole: Daddy, what you doing?
Gilbert: Putting gel in my hair.
C: Why?
G: So I can pick up chicks.
Later, at the mall:
Kate: Cole, we need to go show Daddy your new glove and bat (Yeah, the real deal. I couldn't say no.)
C: No, Daddy's picking up chicks.
Conversation #2:
K: Cole, it's bed time.
C: No, I don't need to go to bed. I happy.
Conversation #3:
After finishing his bedtime story:
C: Mom, you lay down with me?
K: Not tonight. I'm going to go downstairs.
C: No. You tired. Let me see...(as he pokes his fingers into my mouth and pries my jaws open) Yeah. Your mouth is tired. Let me see... Eww! You got dirt in your mouth!
K: Uh-oh. What should I do? Brush my teeth?
C: No. Spit it out.
Then, after he schools me in the right way to spit dirt out into his hand:
C: I'll put it in the flowers tomorrow.
Love, love, loving this age. I need to be writing more down.
5.25.2009
For Melissa
Melissa M. called the other day and dogged me out for not having shared a belly picture. Okay, so she didn't "dog me out," but she did make a request. So here it is:
And, not to be too critical of myself, but yes, I am every bit as tired in this picture as I look. My picture dilemma has been that in the afternoon I usually go to the gym, so in the evenings (the best opportunity for photos) I either look like I just came from the gym, or I look like I just came from the shower and am ready for bed. On this rare night, I had gone smelly but more nicely dressed to the ball park, so I took advantage of the moment to give Melissa what she wanted. Maybe next time I get dressed up for something and Gilbert is around, I'll have him snap another, more becoming shot. (And I'm sure I'll thank Melissa later when I realize that I only took a few pictures of this pregnancy.)
You know, just for the fun of it (or to let you decide how much having a child has aged me), why not throw in a picture of me at exactly the same point in my pregnancy with Cole?
Yuck. I wouldn't say I'm glowing quite as much with this pregnancy as with the first. Why am I doing this to myself?!? Oh well. I must really love you guys (or at least Melissa.) Just when I thought I wasn't one of those moms on the Suave commercial that says, "x percent of moms say they've let themselves go since having children." I guess that's just part of it. =-)
By the way, in case you're not facebookers, it is another boy!
And, not to be too critical of myself, but yes, I am every bit as tired in this picture as I look. My picture dilemma has been that in the afternoon I usually go to the gym, so in the evenings (the best opportunity for photos) I either look like I just came from the gym, or I look like I just came from the shower and am ready for bed. On this rare night, I had gone smelly but more nicely dressed to the ball park, so I took advantage of the moment to give Melissa what she wanted. Maybe next time I get dressed up for something and Gilbert is around, I'll have him snap another, more becoming shot. (And I'm sure I'll thank Melissa later when I realize that I only took a few pictures of this pregnancy.)
You know, just for the fun of it (or to let you decide how much having a child has aged me), why not throw in a picture of me at exactly the same point in my pregnancy with Cole?
Yuck. I wouldn't say I'm glowing quite as much with this pregnancy as with the first. Why am I doing this to myself?!? Oh well. I must really love you guys (or at least Melissa.) Just when I thought I wasn't one of those moms on the Suave commercial that says, "x percent of moms say they've let themselves go since having children." I guess that's just part of it. =-)
By the way, in case you're not facebookers, it is another boy!
4.11.2009
A Funny Conversation
Inspired by Melanie's posted conversations heard around her house, I thought I'd share one with you all. (This is actually a conversation within a conversation. I hope you can follow):
Gilbert: I think I messed up. I gave Cole a bath while you were at the gym, and I think you already gave him one tonight.
Kate: No, I didn't.
Gilbert: Well, he told me he'd already had one. Plus, his gun (that shoots those little styrofoam disks) was laying by the tub.
Kate: He had that in the bathroom earlier while I was trying to (pardon my language) poop. Here's how that went:
Cole: Watch out Mommy! (as he points the gun at me and shoots)
Kate: Please do not shoot at Mommy. (I'm trying to poop.)
Cole: I not shooting at you!
Kate: Yes, you were. You pointed the gun, pulled the trigger, and hit me in
the chest.
Cole: I not shooting at you.
Kate: Please do not shoot Mommy.
Cole: But I not...
Kate: Just say, "Yes ma'am."
Cole: Yes ma'am. (Then under his breath) But I not shooting at you.
Gilbert: I think I messed up. I gave Cole a bath while you were at the gym, and I think you already gave him one tonight.
Kate: No, I didn't.
Gilbert: Well, he told me he'd already had one. Plus, his gun (that shoots those little styrofoam disks) was laying by the tub.
Kate: He had that in the bathroom earlier while I was trying to (pardon my language) poop. Here's how that went:
Cole: Watch out Mommy! (as he points the gun at me and shoots)
Kate: Please do not shoot at Mommy. (I'm trying to poop.)
Cole: I not shooting at you!
Kate: Yes, you were. You pointed the gun, pulled the trigger, and hit me in
the chest.
Cole: I not shooting at you.
Kate: Please do not shoot Mommy.
Cole: But I not...
Kate: Just say, "Yes ma'am."
Cole: Yes ma'am. (Then under his breath) But I not shooting at you.
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