Baby-ness

There are times I get psychically shaken that Toby is our last baby (when am I going to shutup about this topic, I know, insert your eyeroll here) -- after babies, babies, babies non-stop for nearly seven years, it feels so strange to be in a "last" place with Toby. 

His first time rolling over is the last time one of our children will do that. His first time smiling was the last time. First > last. Over and done. 

And that's bittersweet. Our children are babies, and there's so, so much more to experience with them. Life is good, great, awesome now. I expect it to be 100x more good, great, awesome as the kids grow. I can't wait to see personalities develop and talents bloom. Justin and I both look forward to getting to "know" our kids as they grow. There is so much to look forward to. 

But still, Toby is my last little baby and just a constant reminder that he's it. He's the end. And the beginning, if that makes any sense. He's the end of the babies but the beginning of so much more for our family. It all starts and stops with him.

And if I'm being perfectly honest here, I am looking forward to being without a baby in the future, too. No more two-hour-interval feedings. No more crying without explanation or understanding. No more formula or diapers. There's quite a few things that I look forward to when the time comes that we don't have a baby in the house. 

But mostly, I know I'm going to miss this. I'm going to miss gummy, slobber-covered grins. I'm going to miss that smooth, perfect baby skin. And the midnight snuggles. And the joy of a baby on my hip. 

I'm just doing my best to soak up and appreciate Toby in his baby-ness every moment. 

(Someone promise to let me hold your baby when mine are all grown!) 

Pushing Through, Looking for the Love

Tender moments between these two remind me what it's all really about -- in the midst of tantrums and bloody noses and deafening screams...there are these little blips of love. 

I am hopeful that underneath all this sibling squabbling there are relationships forming -- loving, holy, unyielding bonds of love forming between sisters and brothers and brothers and sisters.  

This is a very loud moment in our lives -- a five-month-old who has found his raging cry-voice. A one-year-old who has decided tantrums are the "it" thing and who uses his hands to slap, scratch and pull hair. A nearly three-year-old who is so stubborn, she'd cut off her nose to spite her face. And a six-year-old with a diva attitude to rival that of a sixteen-year-old. 

It all makes for lots of tears and struggles, and honestly, it's just not a very fun place. That's not to say all days are hard; honestly, the majority of days are pretty good. Not always great, but moderately good and manageable, and with a family this large, that's all a momma can ask for. 

So I'm treasuring the moments of peace and tenderness. I know this time is short and precious, but it's also loud as hell and makes me want to pull my hair out. 

50/50

A "Bad" Evening at Home

One of the first questions I get from family or friends whenever I roll up with all four kids in tow is, "so how are you handling it?"

And "it" means the chaos of four kids, and yes, I recognize we're a buzzing mass of arms and legs and dirty faces and voices, both quiet and loud, but it's not always chaotic. Sometimes, most times even, it's fairly peaceful. We're in routine mood, surviving on our patterns, and blessedly, there are not too many bumps in the road.

But when there are bumps? They are massive. They are consuming. And they're always parallel to the other bumps in the road. Here's a rundown of a typical-bad evening, which luckily is far and few in between, but does happen:

I'm late leaving work.

Call the babysitter. Call Mom. Gas light comes on.

Stop for gas. Rush to get the kids. Round up blankets and bags and jackets and shoes. Load the girls. Round up more bags and blankets and shoes and jackets. Load the boys. Fight over what we're listening to on the radio or CD. Rhealen and Sidney fight over the volume. Jaxon can't get his tablet to work. Toby wants a paci or a bottle or a diaper or something I can't get to right then because I'm driving.

Realize we need milk at home. Shit.

Go back to the store. Run in at the speed of light for milk and end up with twenty seven other things we do or do not need on a whim. Hurry home. Unload boys and girls and bags and jackets. Start supper. Call Justin. I forgot we need diapers. Start a load of laundry. Force Sidney to start on homework. Take the toy away from Rhealen who took the toy away from Jaxon. Console a screaming Jaxon. Get Toby back to sleep.

Sidney tore her homework getting it out of her bookbag. And she has no pencil. And she's out of lunch money.

Supper spills over the stove and the washing machine is off-balance yet again. Rhealen goes screaming through the house because loud noises scare her. Jaxon follows suit because he thinks it's a fun new game. Sidney has abandoned homework and has turned up the TV to volume level eleven billionty.

EVERYONE CALM DOWN.

Justin walks through the door. We got this bill and that bill and why haven't you paid this already? Supper is burning. The baby is awake again. Jaxon has fallen off the couch for the tenth time. Sidney slams the bathroom door. Justin hasn't even gotten his boots off yet.

Supper is done. The laundry gets thrown in the dryer. Kids eat at the table. Jaxon eats off my plate standing in the kitchen. Then Jaxon eats off Justin's plate standing in the kitchen. I hold Toby. Justin holds Toby. Toby has to sit in his seat for a minute. Toby screams.

We can't find Jaxon's bottle. Rhealen can't find a paci, which she's not even supposed to have anymore. We left her blanket at Gran's. The other back-up blanket is at Sandy's. Sidney is still hungry. Jaxon is beyond sleepy and is walking into walls.

Turn on Jaxon's fan and put him down with his paci. Goodnight, love you son, and close the door. The girls need a bath. It'll just have to wait 'til tomorrow. Wash them down the best I can. Put pajamas on. They want to watch ten more minutes of Rio for the hundredth time this week. Rhealen wants to sleep on the top bunk. Sidney wants to sleep on the bottom bunk. No, girls, go to bed. Sidney on top, Rhealen on bottom. Rhealen doesn't have her blanket. She's really mad about the whole thing.

Justin has fallen asleep on the couch for the third night this week. I glare at him but also feel a little relieved. At least now we're not going to have to fight or even speak to each other. Toby cries again. Justin wakes up.

Justin tells me to go take a bath, I need a break, he's got the baby. I don't argue. I run myself a bath, grab the kindle, enjoy the scalding heat of the water. Ten minutes later, I hear the baby. And I keep hearing the baby. I yell for Justin. Again. No answer.

I curse. A lot. I let the water out of the bath because what's the point anymore. Justin is asleep on the couch again. I want to stab him with the bath drain. Not really. Yes, really. I yell at Justin. I get the baby. He just needed his paci. Rhealen calls to me about her blanket once more. I warn her to go to sleep.

I load the dishwasher. Pester Justin to get off the couch and go to bed. Check on the girls. They're asleep, finally. Turn off their TV. Turn off all the lights. Check that the doors are locked. Pester Justin some more to get off the couch and get into bed. Consider leaving him there all night so I can hog the entire bed. Check on the baby. Still asleep. Fix a bottle because I know he'll be up in an hour, maybe two if I'm lucky.

Finally get Justin to move to the bed. Set the alarm clock. Collapse into bed and pray the baby will actually sleep a little tonight. Try to shut off my brain so I can fall asleep instantly to maximize the minutes I do get to sleep.

Justin is already snoring. And eventually, I am, too.

Finally, Toby

Toby is my last great gift, the final piece of my puzzle, a perfect end note to my opus. 

He is joy and ease and tranquility. He never fails to amaze me with his sweetness, his divine innocence. He gets the best of me, or maybe it's the worst of me. I am utterly at peace with myself as a mother with him. He's the fourth. I know what I'm doing, and I don't know any other way to do it. But it feels like I'm always too busy with the other three... 

And so he just sits back and waits for me. He waits for my undivided attention, waits with gummy grins and a warm little body to snuggle. He is just perfection, and I hope I always remember (and appreciate) him for the cool little dude he is. Such a sweet little soul. 

Maybe the best really is saved for last...

The Cursing Toddler

To meet Rhealen, from a stranger's perspective, one might think this little girl is shy, quiet, and meek. She can be all of those things, sometimes painstakingly so, but in her "natural element" this girl is wild. And loud. And opinionated. And stubborn to a fault. 

When she gets hurt, she often runs to hide out - where most kids want to be petted and fretted over, she doesn't want to be acknowledged. She doesn't want to cry, doesn't want to be held or kissed in any way. 

And, recently, when frustrated or scared or surprised or just excited, she turns to her new favorite word: dammit. 

Over the weekend, I served her breakfast on all her favorite flatware; her Princess mug half-full of milk and a fresh-from-the-oven biscuit on her Brave plate. She took one bite of her biscuit and proclaimed, "Dammit! That's hot!"

At first I wasn't 100% sure the words actually left her lips, so I didn't acknowledge she'd said anything. And then she did it again. Bite. "Dammit! That's hot!" And then another bite. "Dammit god! That's hot!" 

And that's when I stepped in...I can overlook "dammit" being kind of cute and funny (when they're this little, there's really not much you can do in regards to their choice of language except to redirect them and reprimand them with consistency) but "dammit god" isn't exactly something I want her to stick with. Or flip-flip with the alternative. 

I should clarify: Justin and I both curse. With flair, I might add! It's something we know isn't morally right, and it's not something we're very proud of it. But we do it. And I'm a firm believer that language, specifically foul language, is not the worst habit a human being can have. There are a lot of other qualities that I find worth snubbing; cursing just isn't high on that list. 

That being said, once Sidney was old enough to understand the power of her choice of words, we had lots of conversations about cursing and how it can offend other people. We talked about implications from grand-parents, teachers, friends, etc., and how the words we use at home (in a safe environment) aren't always proper elsewhere. She got it. 

And I know, one day, Rhealen will get it, too. It's part of the learning curve of life. For now, I'm just hoping I can curve that foul little mouth into some words that aren't quite as shocking as "dammit"....

Especially that whole "dammit god" thing. Phew....

Some < Others

Some nights, I "fail"* at being a good mother.

Some nights my kids eat cereal. Some nights homework doesn't get done. Some nights they go to bed with dirty faces wearing the day's dirty clothes.

Some nights the house is left in a worse mess than the night before. 

Some nights the laundry is piled four feet deep. Some nights the dirty dishes don't even make it to the sink.

Some nights there are fights. There are stories that don't get read to babies. There are kisses that go unkissed. There is anger and hurt and tears.

Some nights there is nothing to do but hide and cry in the bedroom. Don't let them see your tears of frustration and anger.

Some nights there are tired bodies bumping into each other in crowded hallways. There are words spit with venom. There are "I hate yous" and "I really hate yous". 

Some nights are, for lack of a better word, complete and total shit.

But, for every one of those "some nights", there are other nights.

Other nights dinner is done and done right and done on time. There are full bellies and warm bodies.

Other nights homework is finished and books are read. There are clean jammies and freshly washed faces. 

Other nights the laundry gets (mostly) caught up and the dishwasher is loaded. The house gets straightened.

Other nights there is kissing and hugging and loving. There are moments hidden from little eyes and extra "I love yous" and moments for momma and poppa.

Other nights, in fact most nights, are divine in their simplicity and imperfection. Other nights are the norm and the good and the reason we can make it through some nights that are hard.

Tonight, I am my grateful for the nights when I don't "fail"* at motherhood. I live through the some nights so I can love the others.

*None of us really fail at this motherhood thing; we're all bumbling fools just doing our best to keep our little humans alive!*

Parenting Tidbits (!!)

People tend to think that just because I'm a mother of four, I must have this parenting stuff figured out.

even Toby is skeptical of my parenting skills :)

Let me be the first to say, NO, I don't. I'm not even sure what all of this "parenting stuff" is some days. Every child is different (even within the same family) and every parent is different (Justin and I certainly have our own sytles!) and there are a million and one factors that go into any given moment of parenting.

But just for fun, I'll share a few little tidbits of what I've learned after 6+ years of parenting -- if nothing else, I think it'll be fun to look back on this post another six years from now. I'm sure I will laugh at myself a little, and hopefully, I will be able to see my growth as a parent from this day to that one.

• It's okay for your child to cry -- this is not a flag of support for the "cry it out" method. Just know that babies are just little human beings who experience a vast range of emotions, and unlike their older counterparts, babies cannot express their feelings any other way except to cry. And it's okay to let them. Run through your basic "Parenting 101" checklist (are they hungry? Wet? Sleepy?) and, if you come to the conclusion all of their needs have been met, just let them cry. There have been many times I've held a crying baby in my arms (while simultaneously throwing my hands up in the air!) because there's nothing left to do. I try to comfort them, tell them I love them, and just let them do their thing. We all need to just cry it out sometimes -- remember babies are no different (they're not crying just to frazzle your nerves, I promise!)
• A strong willed child, while exhausting, can make for a strong willed adult, which has the potential to be wonderful. I have a certain little daughter of mine who pushes the boundaries, has no problem expressing her opinion (rather loudly, I might add), and who will not budge on the smallest of things when it stands in the way of her personal convictions (as irrational as they may seem to me). I feel defeated when I'm not able to channel that determination into something productive with her, but my ultimate goal is to help her find her own restraints and then let her run wild when she can. I never fear that she'll be one to back down from any challenge or let someone walk all over her -- but I also want to make sure she isn't hiding behind that tough exterior. I know deep down she's just as soft and needy as the rest of us!
• The relationships between siblings has to be on organic one. I have such a heavy fear that my children will grow up and hate each other as adults. Their time together right now is so sweet and tender, the thought of them losing that among each other hurts my heart. Still, I try to let them figure out the dynamics of their relationships on their own. I have found that by letting them take the reins and work through their own little problems, they grow as individuals and as siblings -- that does mean things get a little loud sometimes, especially with the girls. A lot of times I'm tempted to step in and just separate them, but I try to remind them to not scream at each other, to use their words, to figure it out. And 99% of the time, they do, and it works. You can't force your kids to be best friends. You have to give them space to like each other, love each other, and at times, be disgusted with each other. Their relationships may be among little people, but it in no way means the relationship itself is little. 
• It really does take a village! This is one that is very specific to our lives and doesn't necessarily apply to everyone - some parents are just more comfortable keeping their kids closer to "home" and that's fine, too! For our family, we are so lucky to have dozens of hands in the fire helping us navigate life with four kids. We've got multi-generational grand-parents, dozens of cousins, aunts and uncles, friends and more who help us out and fill in the gaps. Our kids are (for the most part) very comfortable with other people and easy to adapt to new places and new faces. There's nothing wrong with accepting help (and offering help when you can!), no shame in letting your circle help shape the people your children will grow to be.

Parenting is hard work, folks -- don't ever let anyone try to trick you into thinking it's a "breeze". It's a heavy task, weighted with the outcome that one day you'll send a (hopefully) well-molded individual into the world. This individual will vote, form relationships, work, marry, raise children, help others. Or maybe they won't. It's one of those things we can't control as parents -- we have to let go eventually, one way or the other. 

But parenting is also fun. And rewarding. It's a very 50/50 state of being -- no, that's not true, either. Sometimes it's 70/30 and sometimes 100/0. There's not always an equal pull of give and take. 

My main point to all of this is: BE THE PARENT YOU WANT TO BE. You can read a million books (or blog posts like this one) or try to follow the example of those that have gone before you (not always a good/bad idea) -- but at the end of the day, you are your own person (shaped by your parents!) and you can choose the best way to raise your children. You really truly honestly do know best. 

4

Four peas in a pod.

Four unique beings tied by the strings of my heart. I created these little humans (with a little help from my husband, if I must give credit where credit is due!) - I grew them within me. I felt them move for the first time, felt their hiccups. I labored with them, delivered them safely into this great big world with all the wishes and hopes and dreams a momma can have for her babies. 

Four times over I was lucky enough to create life, to deliver life, to nourish a dream into reality. 

My four. The final four. 

Zzzz..........NOT!

So.........this is what no sleep looks like, eh? 

I would post you a picture of myself looking all baggy-eyed and sleep-deprived, but I don't think a photo would do justice to the way I feel. I'm operating on the most erratic sleep schedule ever right now, fueled by caffeine and some primal instinct to just keep pushing forward. 

Toby has no sleep "schedule" and most nights, his longest continuous sleep stretches only two hours, max. Most of the time it's an hour, sometimes even less -- we've been trying to implement a nighttime routine to help. We've done bathtime and playtime and bottles with cereal. I let him soothe himself to sleep and put on the sound machine. So far, no dice. I know he'll get there, and honestly, I don't have unrealistic expectations that my >2 month old should be sleeping 8-12 hours. I've done this a time or two, I know how all of this works! 

I would just like consistency is all -- knowing I could get two hours consistently would be a blessing at this point (for my sanity) !!

Added to this no-sleeping-Toby mix is my poor teething boy, Jaxon -- the girls never really seemed to have an issue cutting any of their teeth, but this poor fella has been up the past few nights screaming non-stop in pain. I hate to see him hurting, and I do what I can to soothe him, but in my near-comatose state of mind in the middle of the night, who knows how helpful I really am (??)

This will all pass in time. These are precious days I will want back sooner rather than later. I am going to miss all of this one day. I KNOW, I KNOW. 

But I also miss sleep. Sweet, beautiful, warm, uninterrupted sleep.  

I'm just looking forward to being further down the road, looking back on this post, and thinking "you made it, girl. your kids are sleeping!" -- you want to know what I dream about (when I actually sleep long enough to dream?) it's THAT. 

Back to Work...Soon!

Next week marks my last week of maternity leave -- and I feel conflicted. I am so beyond ready to go back to work, to be in a normal routine of what I know and love; I can't wait to get back to my desk and back to my job and interact with other adults on a daily basis. But I am going to miss my babies. I'm going to miss the little moments that happen daily, the things only I can really appreciate as a momma. Our days are sometimes long and maddening, but they're never "dull" -- keeping up with these kiddos is a full time job in itself, especially the tag team trouble of Rhealen + Jaxon.

Those two.....world look out.

I'm going to miss my Toby snuggles, my sweet baby that is so calm and happy. I'm going to miss so much, literal and figuratively speaking.

I love working and I'm thankful to have a job to help support our family, but I admit sometimes I think it'd be nice to stay home full time (although I don't know if I'm cut out for it) -- my hat is off to those mommas and poppas who stay home with their children, y'all are boss!

I plan to really focus and enjoy my last week home -- but I'm also focusing on getting back to work and diving back in head first. 

And because no post is complete without some photos, here's a photo dump of what it looks like hanging at home:

This is real life...

I don't know who first said "after two or three, you don't notice any difference" but I'm calling bullshit on that! Having four is totally different than three! Let's just acknowledge that little fact first off.

Now, secondly, I'm working on finding a groove that fits for our family, and luckily for me, that includes coordinating with our amazing family and friends who help make life possible.

Yes, I'm sure Justin and I could do this on our own...but I'm so beyond grateful we don't have to. We are blessed beyond the stars to have such people in our lives that lovingly help.

I get a lot of comments in real life and online where people say "you have your hands full!" Or "bless your heart!" Or "I don't think I could handle four!" And at first, I nod my head in agreement - the initial shock of four kids is surprise! Shocking! And yes, my hands are full - but so is my heart...

And this is hard sometimes, yes, but it's what I was born to do - I was meant to have these four kids. I love them and like them and find myself in complete awe that I made these little people. Some days are longer than others, and sometimes there are tears from everyone (me included!) - but there is so much love.

So if and when you see me out with my little humans, please know I'm happy and I don't feel overwhelmed. I'm doing my best to be grateful, above everything else. I'm still settling into being a mother of four, but only on the outside. 

On the inside, I have been a mother of four my whole life. Now my home matches my heart, and everything feels complete. 

(And yes, in regards to the photo a above, I might be a little happier on the daily if showering found its way into my routine) 

Tonight, for the first time, I looked down at you and felt that lump rise into my throat. I felt the tears sting at my eyes, and I recognized in an instant that old familiar feeling - love.

Tonight, I fell in love with you. 

Just an ordinary night, sitting on the couch, holding you while you slept on my chest. And yet, there it was. There it happened again. Once more, my heart grew and you fell into the place waiting for you. 

I don't know if it's me or if other mommas experience these kinds of moments, too - but I know enough about myself as a mother to recognize the difference between loving your child unconditionally from day one versus falling in love with your children over and over again as they grow. 

I have loved you, my boy, from the moment I found out I was pregnant.

But tonight, I fell in love with you for the first time. Tonight, you made your way to me - from an unexpected, unplanned miracle to a fuzzy, warm babe in my arms. You found me, and I found you. And I didn't think I could love another boy the way I do your father and brother, yet you've proven me wrong already.

 Little Toby, I love you. Thank you for being the best surprise of my life.

I talk a lot about what it's like for me to raise "babies" and how stressful it can be parenting our "toddler", but lately I haven't really touched on the subject of parenting our TOTALLY GROWN UP ADULT-KID six-year-old. 

I guess I just feel more comfortable with myself and my experience parenting babies/toddlers -- if this makes any sense at all, the baby stage is one I've done three (soon to be four) times over. I've managed to successfully complete that birth->10 months phase (seeing as Jaxon is ten months old now) -- I feel confident that I can do that part, easy as pie. 

Having a six-year-old is new territory -- she's the oldest, the firstborn. Everything with her at this point is a brand-new experience, and sometimes, it's just overwhelming! Not always a bad overwhelming, mind you, just exhausting with its information and education and experience -- parenting never stops, and if you allow it to happen, it will change the way you do/see/feel everything forever, every second of every single day for the rest! of! your! life!

I will admit I have a lot of guilt relating to Sidney at the moment; I feel a lot of anxiety, and I'm really struggling to find my balance with her at the moment. She's reached that age where she's quite independent in a lot of ways, but I still feel incredibly responsible for doing a majority of things for her. I'm constantly trying to figure out what things she can (and rightfully should!) do for herself on her own without feeling like a monster mom for putting too much on her. 

(For example: I usually dress Sidney every day of her life. Every clothing item. It never really occurred to me that she could do it on her own or that maybe I should stop doing it for her until Justin pointed it out to me -- you know, "she's six years old! stop putting on her socks for her!" kind of thing)

I guess what I'm trying to say here is I have a really hard time accepting the fact that my baby is not a baby anymore -- and I'm struggling with the transition as a mother, for sure. I definitely want her to be self-sufficient and capable and helpful and a hundred other "big girl" things, but I also want her to be little and need me for everything. I want her to see that doing things on her own for herself is not a "punishment", something she definitely struggles with. She doesn't see the fair side of me doing so much for Rhealen or Jaxon and then asking her to do so much for herself. 

AND I GET THAT. 

I struggle with that concept, too, honestly! I remind Sidney all the time, "when the little ones are older they will do these things, too. They will clean up after themselves. They will carry their own bags. They will, they will, they will, I promise!" But I see her side of it, too; I know how unfair it must feel, and the last thing I want in the world is to breed resentment among my children. 

Am I insane? Tell me honestly. 

I'm an only child, so again, I really struggle with the dynamics of siblings -- it's one of those things I don't think you can truly understand unless you've lived it. I do my best and try to take in all the advice I can. What things  can I do to help Sidney gain even more independence? How do I handle my guilt asking her to do so much for herself when her siblings aren't on the same level as she is, and I know she feels it's "not fair, Mom!"?

Believe me, I'm open to suggestions here!

Thriving vs Surviving

Previously, I touched on the subject of finding my groove, especially when it comes to our morning and night routines. With the recent time change, that groove has been shaken up, so while we're still in the middle of readjusting, things are getting closer to what I would call our new normal. 

Part of this new normal means I've been working really hard to get in bed as early as possible and soak up every second of sleep while I can. With the impending arrival of another baby, I know sleep is precious at this point, and I don't want to waste any of it, as selfish as that sounds! :)

With an earlier bedtime, I'm finding it easier to get up with Jaxon and his new wake-up time of 6:00 AM (thank you ever so much, daylight savings time!) -- it's even given me the opportunity to spend a few extra minutes with Justin, seeing as how he tries to be out the door by 5:30 when he can, but sometimes stumbles around and doesn't leave 'til 6:00. That's an especially nice bonus because he's been working 14 hour days here lately, and it's really hard not spending any time with him -- I know the kids miss him, even though the girls would probably never admit it!

All of this is to say, I am the primary parent to our kids most of the time -- they spend the majority of their day with me, and I'm the sole person responsible for making sure they're ready in the morning and put to bed at night. It can be exhausting, for sure, and some days it does start to feel like more of a chore than a delight. I'm doing my best to really try to be present in each moment with my kids (no matter how mundane they may be) because this is my life, the life I've wanted and chosen and dreamed of. These are my kids, all four of these little rascals, and as chaotic and wild as it can be, these are my moments to enjoy. 

Sure, bath time can be monotonous, and no one enjoys changing a diaper for the 100th time (it seems) that day -- but even these little moments present opportunities to relish and enjoy. I try to remind myself to enjoy all of it -- even when the kids are screaming and I've stuck my hand in the messy diaper and supper is boiling over on the stove and there's homework to be done and bedtime was supposed to be thirty minutes ago. It's easy to lose sight of the joy a large family can bring when you're in those moments -- and it's even easier to just whisk through all of it on autopilot. 

So much of parenting is a checklist of cleaning, feeding, organizing, refereeing, over and over, day after day. It gets old quick...if you let it. 

I'm doing my best to not let it be just a checklist, but more of a bucket list that's never ending, always repeating but with new items, new moments to treasure and keep. Every day is a new list, a clean slate, the fresh opportunity to do the best I can and enjoy all of it to the best of my ability. 

Absolutely, I fail. I get lost in the shuffle, and I complain to my mom and other mom-friends (and to Twitter) about how HARD this is -- because it is hard, and I'm exhausted and the kids are just wiiiiiiild. That's life, that's my everyday normal, and I know there are going to be plenty more days like that. Momma said there'd be days like this....

I just remind myself, it's all in how I choose to handle it -- and for most of the days, I like to think I choose joy. I choose to enjoy and thrive, not just survive.

And I hope these little tykes know just how much their momma adores them! 

The Only Boy for Me

 I don't know what I'd do without this little ham-bone! He's literally the brightest light and sweetest thing -- and he loves me! And I love him for loving me! Even though he saves some of his biggest grins for his daddy + sisters, I know where his true heart lies. He's a momma's boy, through and through, and I'm so grateful to get to experience what it's like having a son. My one and only sweet-as-sugar son!

Two Girls, One Heart

For sisters that don't really look anything alike, these two have turned out to be the best of friends ... watching their relationship blossom has been one of the biggest rewards of parenting for me. 

I've watched them transition from a nervous, but gentle, big sister watching lovingly over her newborn sister -- to a roaming baby who insisted on following her big sister everywhere, crawling while she tucked that one leg up underneath her, just like her big sister used to do -- to a nosy toddler who wants all the toys her big sister has in her hands at the exact moment she picks them up -- to two little girls who are learning to play together and really look out for one another. 

It's been just amazing. Of course, they have their moments. There is yelling and crying and hair-pulling. But in all honesty, they are few and far between. 

If Rhealen gets hurt or gets in trouble, she will crawl into Sidney's arms, Sidney will hold her chest-to-chest, and rub her back. She whispers to her and doesn't move until Rhealen is ready to get back up. It's the most achingly tender thing I've ever witnessed. 

They really do love each other -- I don't know why I find that so surprising -- and it just makes me so happy for them. This sisterly bond is such a blessing to watch unfold, I feel like the luckiest momma in the world. 

Two very different looks. Two distinct personalities. Two little girls. 

One heart between the two of them. 

[Take Care]

The moments I really feel something hit me hard in the face and heart and knock me over with such force, there's no possible way to ignore them. 

I have general feelings constantly. I generally feel happy. I generally feel loved. I generally feel anxious. But to truly feel an emotion, in the heat of a moment without warning or delay, is blinding. 

I love my kids, love them all day, every day and will continue to love them 'til the day I die. But there are moments when I look at them and love them so hard, it psychically pains me. In those moments, I'm reminded of a million reasons why I love being a mother, why being a mother has made me a better human, and why I'd shrivel up and fade away without these three in my life. 

Sure, I could have taken a different path in life -- a path that led me to never being a mother. That life sometimes beckons to me -- a carefree, reckless spirit that taunts me, tries to tell me I've missed out on so much living by being a young mother. I get jealous of the part of the me that never even existed, and I begin to resent my surroundings. I daydream of a life without all these responsibilities and demands, without sleepless nights and screaming babies. I dream of, for lack of a better word, freedom. 

And then I see my children, these three innocent beings that took the best parts of me and my husband, and magically came to in a world of hope and love. I see them laugh and smile and play and hold each other. I see them whispering and touching noses, sharing inside jokes and creating a world around them made only for three. They love each other, so fiercely, and take care of each other, a sentiment I've been preaching to them lately. 

Some day, your daddy and I won't be here -- you have to take care of each other, always. 

I see my children and I love them, and it hits me like a wave, these emotions come over me -- I feel guilty for ever feeling anything but contentment and joy. I resent myself for resenting myself. I stop and thank every star in the sky, because I am so lucky -- there are so many mothers out there with empty arms, and here my home and heart are full three times over.

I take joy in falling in love with my children, over and over again. In between the routine and the pitfalls and the everyday grind, I am blessed to feel deeply for them at the most spontaneous and unexpected moments. I know there will come a day when I take them for granted again, when I pine for a life that I wasn't meant to live. But deep down, I know -- I will always love my life. I will always love my children. And I will always love the feeling that comes over me when I fall in love with them again. And again and again and again...

"Sometimes Things Just Suck"

I read back through some of my posts the other day, and a distinct similarity hit me: I've only been sharing the good lately. 

And luckily for us, things really have been mostly good as of late. We're all adjusting well to this whole "family of five" thing, and the kids are all healthy. Justin and I are getting along good, we finally got moved into our house over the weekend (!!!), and work is going good for the both of us. There's really not a lot to complain about, and overall, we're a pretty happy little bunch. 

Of course, that's not to say that we're living in this Beaver Cleaver, rosy-colored, perfect little bubble - far from it! There are bills that pile up and dirty laundry tends to take over our house (old and new at this point!) and the kids can drive anyone to the breaking point. 

There are moments when I fail as a mother. Jaxon is screaming his head off and nothing will soothe him. Rhealen is whiney after just waking up from her nap and demands to be held. Sidney is hungry and in need of a little attention, but I have none to give and dinner just has to wait until the little ones get calmed down. Justin is usually busy in the evenings when he first comes home from work, so he's not always available to help. And I resent him for being outside while I'm stuck inside with the kids. And then he walks into a house full of screaming, whining kids and a wife who's mad at him for no apparent reason, and suddenly the whole family is just sour. 

Those nights are typically few and far in between, but they happen. And when they do, there's really not a lot I can but throw my hands up and just give in to the madness. I'm learning to just laugh at it, roll with it, do my best to take it in stride - and when I can't - I don't punish myself for stepping away. The kids will be fine if I take five minutes to collect myself (most of the time they're already screaming in my arms, so what does it matter if they scream on the other side of the bedroom door?) There are times I don't want to be around them, just wish they would be perfectly silent for ten minutes, and think to myself, "what did I get into with these three?"

Parenting is hard work - don't ever let anyone tell you it isn't. The best babies are work. The best toddlers will still drive you mad. The most independent kid can still make parenting a living nightmare. It's a never-ending merry-go-round of emotions and needs to be met and a million worries. And we all fail at it, at one point or another. No one is the perfect mother or father, every day, all day, 365 days a year. 

Because what is perfection anyway?

I measure my parenting success by having (mostly) clean kids who are fed and happy. Anything beyond that is just a bonus. I am far from a perfect parent, and I'm sure there are people out there who question my parenting style (although I dare them to say something to me about it!)

My main point to all of this rambling is just to say that, yes, things are going great for us right now, but even in the middle of greatness there is ugly. And we all share pieces of that ugly, regardless of how perfect our life looks to the outside world. It's the little things that unite us as men, women, parents, human beings - and being willing to admit that sometimes things just suck is the holy grail of unity. 

Rhealen Jo 1.9

My sweet, sweet, sassy little Rhealen Jo - this child right here. You know that old saying about how your own kids are payback for the way you treated your parents? I am raising Justin's punishment, let me tell you right now. She is spitfire and spunk, all packaged into the most adorable blonde-haired, blue-eyed, petite little body! Girl child has no fears: except meeting new people. She's not much of a social butterfly, but she's growing into her own more and more each day. 

She knows dozens of words but often prefers to grunt like a caveman or babble incoherently - Justin and I have a running joke calling her "Lassie" as she'll often run into the room and start jibbering away excitedly, then turn and run out. All it took was Justin saying, "What is it, girl? Little Timmy's in the well?" and there you have it. Lassie. 

I was so nervous when we first brought Jaxon home that she'd be a rambunctious ball of jealous nerves and take all her anger out on him, but she's never once shown any ill will towards that boy. She loves him, dubbed him "Jaxie" and has learned to greet him with a sweet little, "Hi! Buddy!", which comes out sounding like a line from Encino Man. 

I know there was a time when I felt a little lost holding my RJ - I couldn't catch my emotions, and I felt so guilty not being able to love her the way I wanted to. Those moments, that fear feels so far away now. My heart is so full of this little girl, it physically aches. She can be rotten and mean and completely irrational as toddlers are wont to be, but that doesn't stop the light from shining out of her. Even in those moments when she is screaming bloody murder, down on the floor kicking and thrashing, she still has something endearing about her - maybe it's impossible to be mad at something so little being so alive. Her personality definitely doesn't match up with her body, but it just adds to the elements of surprise that make her so special. 

Sometimes I wonder what it's going to be like for her being the second girl and middle child - both are stereotypes that will certainly be forced upon her, willingly or not. I can only hope she feels equal in my love, safe in my arms, and at home with her place in this little family of ours. 

As she approaches her second birthday, RJ is still pretty dependent on her blanket and her paci. I don't have the heart (or want) to take them away from her, because they're only little for a short time, and I'm not one to   deny my babies the simple little pleasures in life. There'll be time for that later on. (So, yes, I still even give her a bottle! I promise to quit by her second birthday!) Her favorite cartoon is still Spongebob, she loves sweet tea with a passion, dogs and cows are her favorite animals, and there's nothing better in the world than bathtime with her big sister. 

Short, sweet, and simple - that's our Rhealen Jo.

Photos by: Pam Burke Photography

Sidney Morgan 5.6

Five (and one-half!) years old! I honestly can't believe it. We've been talking about birthdays a lot lately -Justin will have his at the end of the month- and she knows precisely how old everyone is going to be this year.

How old will Daddy be? 26.

How old will Mommy be? 25.

How old will you be? 6.

How old will Rhealen be? 2. 

How old will Jaxon be? 1, but not 'til next year. 

She's so smart, so incredibly smart it boggles my mind sometimes. She's ranked #2 in the Accelerated Reader program out of the entire kindergarten class. My kid?! Totally my kid (of course my kid, look who we're talking about here, I was always the kindergartner on the beanbag reading instead of going outside to play!) She's such a lover of learning and of school; even on the days she whines about getting up in the mornings, I know once she's at school, she's home. This is a girl who enjoys rules and rewards, and seeing as how she's been in a school-building pretty much from day one, I don't think I'll ever have a problem getting her excited about learning. 

She still has a mess of hair, thick as molasses and untameable as the sea. I do my best to keep a comb running through it and to keep it out of her eyes. Other than that, I'm lost. She insists on keeping it long (and growing it even longer) even though she hates having it brushed and will still act as if you're pulling her bald with every brushstroke. 

She's lost both of her bottom front teeth since my last update (back in November, funny enough she's wearing the same shirt!) and is so glad that one of her big-girl teeth is starting to grow back in - she says it's hard to bite an apple with her teeth missing! She has big plans for summer: swimming at the lake and the pool, going to the beach, driving the boat, having sleepovers, and staying up as late as she wants to just because she can! 

There are a million and one funny, little moments with her - like the way she calls the movie "Once Upon a Forest"/"Way Back in the Club"! Who knows where she gets these things?! As tiring as she can be, as whiny as she can be, as stubborn as she can be -she's also so much more. More thoughtful, more fun, more loving.

She has been, and will always be, my first baby. The first great love of my life, who opened my heart and taught me what it really means to love unconditionally. There was a time when it was just me and her, and I had hours upon hours to soak up each moment and reflect on every aspect of every feeling I had for her. Now, with three kids demanding my time, my emotions can get a little lost on the way to the surface. But they're always there, and I do my damnedest to let her know I love her so much. I am so grateful for her, and so lucky that she came into my life nearly six years ago. She made me a mother and continues to make me a better mother every day. Sure, I stumble and fall, but she picks me up. She reminds me of just how far I've come already...and helps me see there are still great distances we can go together.

Photos by: Pam Burke Photography