Just another girl's story about running her first half marathon....

I found this in my drafts tonight- a post I started after running the Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon on May 19, 2013. This was worth finishing up and sharing!

thirteen point freaking one miles.

The week before the Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon was a strange one. I had injured my right quad/hip flexor group from training a bit too much/too fast and walked with a limp. My training ended at week ten out of twelve and even a 6 mile easy run was too difficult. Five days before the race, I decided my best course of action was to just rest and, if anything, do some light cross training. I figured I might as well let my leg heal the most it could. My goal had gone from a finish time of 2 hours and 30 minutes to "just finishing".

Sunday morning, I woke up at 5:15am. (actually, I was up with Mr. Ezra, AKA teething mess baby at 4:30 and then snoozed from 4:55-5:15). I slathered my nasty gluten free bagel in cream cheese and choked down half of it. I was too nervous to finish it, but I gave it my best. I sucked down my Zip Fizz (there may be more than one "P" in the "Zip", but its one of my pet peeves when things are intentionally misspelled,) and met two of my partners in crime to carpool to the race. We arrived with plenty of time to check our items and use the port-a-potties. I found my pace group and waited patiently for the start of the race.

I don't remember a lot about the race itself. I remember seeing my bestie's mother in law and her husband in the crowd at mile 3, and they enthusiastically cheered for me as I passed. That gave me a huge boost. Then I found the 2:30 pacers (experienced runners who carry a sign with a pace time on it to help the other runners). There was a very long and difficult hill around mile 7-8. This was probably the turning point for me, and one of the few things I remember. I remember wanting to stop and walk, and then approaching a curvy female runner running in tiny briefs with a clever phrase written across her rear. I laughed, and thanked her for the giggle. Suddenly I had a burst of energy, and I passed the 2:30 pace team. I never looked back. I experienced moments of being tired and wondering if I would ever finish. I would often pray through those moments and then all of a sudden be hit with a burst of energy to keep going. The only time I lost my breath was when I would become emotional about how proud I was for doing the race; and how thankful to God I was for healing my leg and taking away my pain enough for me to run that day (shout out to NSAIDS, too, Ibu). I think I experienced the elusive "runner's high", which I'm pretty sure is equal parts endorphins and delirium. Either way, it was amazing.

I finished the race in 2 hours 23 minutes- much better than my original goal! I crossed the finish line and immediately located a recovery beverage/snack. I also was handed a finisher's medal to hang around my neck; which made me cry a little bit. I DID it! I ran 13.1 miles and did not stop to walk once! (I did have to stop for a minute for them to let traffic pass at mile 12...but this was not a welcome break, because I was so close to being done and this only added a minute to my time!).

I found my girls after the race and we shared stories and took pictures together. Then we went out for lunch to replenish our tired soles (see what I did there?) When we completed our meal, I went to stand up, only to realize I couldn't walk. My injured tendon that had loosened up during the run had tightened back up with a vengeance. For 3-4 days, I walked around like a 96 year old man. I took a good month off from serious running and my leg healed up after 6 weeks of baby-ing it and cross training.

But never, not once, did I have a single regret about the whole thing. That experience will go down in history as the day I proved myself that I am better than I give myself credit for. I am capable of anything, no matter what it is.

I could write like I talk....non stop and forever.

I fantasize about blogging, often, and even will start to construct a post in my head.

But then I end up washing dishes. Or Ezra climbs up and starts hammering on the keyboard with his fists, and then screams in my face and pulls my hair when I remove him ( LOVE him. Seriously). Or I decide to sleep...or if we're being honest I find myself scrolling through Instagram and Facebook for a good half hour or so. Or, I decide that I need to watch a TV show, so I end up watching episodes of Dawson's Creek from 1998 on Amazon Prime instant streaming. I feel like that show is like taking a walk down memory lane into the late '90's adolescent dramatic/ romantic existence I never had...but I DID have those black Steve Madden slip on platforms with the stretchy band. Although mine were from Pay-less Shoe Source.

Sometimes, I REALLY don't know where the time goes. Being a semi-stay at home mom of two is a lot more work than I had ever thought it would be. In fact, today I wrote half a blog post in my head about my past preconceived notions about stay-at-home-moms and how their days went. Well my days look NOTHING like I thought they would. I would love to chat about it, but I must move on, because I began this post for a different reason.

I NEED to document my children's milestones! I don't have a baby book for Ezra (long story). His little life is just blossoming and changing so fast. I'm pretty sure I'm getting a baby book for Christmas, so I will just jot down everything here so that it doesn't escape my memory. Because by Christmas, he will probably be having his first solo in the Christmas pageant, or something.

Ezra James 19 months:

Words: Mama, Dada, Dank-oo (thank you), "yeah" (actually squeals, "yyyyyeaaaah!!!") "uh-oh", "dit-dee" (kitty). "Choo-choo"- sound when playing with his trains. Our little caveman is "a bit verbally delayed" according to the pediatrician, but I feel like that is common for boys. I'm not worried.

Teeth: OH, the teeth. Poor Ezra James has suffered teething symptoms since he was 4-5 months old with little break in between teeth. Right now his top right canine has just broken through, and now his top left is pushing on his gum and making it all erythemic. He is also cutting his bottom two 1 year molars. He pushed his top two molars at 17-18 months.

Stats: 100th percentile for height ( almost 3ft at his 18 month visit) and around 29 lbs. He is a long, lean mass of MUSCLE. He walks around like a little football player; chest puffed out, arms swinging.
 *my cat is snoring and its soooo annoying*
Personality: Sensitive. Caring. Today, I strapped him into his car seat and then bent down to grab something under his feet and his reached out and rubbed my back. He is SO loving and touch and cuddling seems to be his "love language". When he wakes up, he likes to be held/cuddled for a few minutes. He is very shy, but also flirty. Despite his shyness, he LOVES to wave to cars. He will stop whatever he is doing and wave to a car if he hears one. He is very determined and curious, especially with electronics, things with wheels, sports, and daddy's guitar.

Abilities: people always comment on how incredibly agile and athletic Ezra is. He likes to jump off of things, and pretty much always sticks the landing. He runs VERY fast. He is very into sports; especially basketball.

What else can I say about Ezra? I am enamored with that boy. I am amazed on a daily basis just how much love I have for him, despite how much of a little shit he can be. Please excuse my language...but there is no substitute when describing him. I actually mouth the phrase, "You are such a little shit" several times a day because of the things he does. And this should be noted, because I really don't swear, hardly ever. So an S-bomb means business. He does things like kick me in the chin when I change his diaper. Then when I get stern and tell him to stop, he kicks me in the jaw, again, and laughs. He pooped so much it smeared out of his diaper and he rubbed it all over the couch when I thought he was playing happily with Mr, Potato Head. And he takes several bites of an apple slice, spits it out on the table, and then throws some of the half chewed apple on the floor. The remaining half chewed apple? He smeared it all over the table and then proceeded to try to lick it off the surface. Each of theses occurences happened today; so you can see why I have so much laundry and cleaning to do ;)
But this is one special little boy. He is going to be a big, tall, handsome sweet heart when he grows up. He will make one special lady very, very happy one day :)

Before I wrap up, I need to say a few things about sweet Madelyn, who turned four years old last week!
- She loves Pre-school. When I dropped her off one day, one of the little boys in her class exclaimed, "Madelyn's here! Hey guys, Madelyn's here!". My mommy heart died and went to heaven. She has just as many "boy" friends as she does "girl" friends. She doesn't seem to prefer a gender when it comes to friendships yet, and I love that.
- She has made it well known that she prefers to be called "Madelyn" rather than "Maddy"
-Still as stubborn as a mule
-And smart as a...smart. So smart.
- She can sweet talk anyone into pushing her on the swing- her favorite activity.
-She loves Thomas the Train (so does Ezra...so them playing with the wooden train set results in many screams, tears, bites, and pulled hairs).
-Every night her and I lay in her tiny little bed and talk. We talk about Thomas, we talk about school...it's our special time and I love it.

Okay..so now I'm tired. It really is my goal to write once a week...and someday I really hope to do that! Last night I actually decided to forgo Dawson's Creek and read a book before bed...so maybe I can cut the nasty "downtime" habit altogether and start documenting this crazy life of mine. If you are out this and you read, give me a little nudge! :)

My Story of Love and Low Self Esteem (part 1?)

I was never the pretty girl.

Cute...maybe. Awkward...certainly; more at some times than others. Chubby? No, not really. I had a little chubby phase in my tween years before I magically melted down to 108 lbs in 8th grade and then normalized thereafter. I didn't know how to style my dark, partially curly hair so it was often just a poof (hell, these days I KNOW how to style it, but I just DON'T, so really, how far have I come?).

I guess you could say I was just "meh". Average. I didn't excel in sports. I dabbled in drama. I was the yearbook editor and newspaper staff photographer. I didn't make waves, I didn't shine, I didn't impress. I got good grades, I had [have] great friends. Funny, but not the class clown. Nice though--I was nice. To quote Maeby Funke, "You couldn't pick her out of a line-up of one".

I didn't have my first official boyfriend until the summer before my senior year. Prior to him, there were quite a few guys that I went out with but things never progressed to "official couple" status. I ALWAYS had my heart shattered. I would imagine it had a lot to do with the intensity of my desire to feel wanted and special...it probably came off too strong for a 15/16 year old guy. To me, falling in love and having someone to hug and talk to all night was the Holy Grail. That was just IT; there was nothing else.

The unexpected passing of my dad when I was sixteen made that hole feel more empty and the desire to be loved even bigger. About a year after that, I met Stan* and he immediately began to fill that hole. He thought I was pretty, funny, smart, etc. He acted like I was just the most amazing girl in the world and that there was no one else. If we were being completely honest, I think that was a big part of why I loved him.

With Stan worshiping the ground I walked on, my self esteem blossomed. I no longer had to try so hard, because I had the Holy Grail; my everything. However, I was obviously dealing with some very heavy emotions and grief that I was not quite mature enough to process. This all made my age 18/19 years very interesting. Stan was there all along. He was very sweet and supportive. We definitely didn't fit together (many people and friends noted this), but I loved him anyway. I followed him to tech school and we stayed together 2 1/2 years.

It was my second year of college that I kind of had an identity crisis. I was still with Stan because I didn't know anything else; even though by then we had absolutely nothing in common by that point and just fought all the time. I became very interested in other guys and began to flirt heavily. At one point I broke up with Stan just so that I could explore that new world, but then cowardly went back to my comfort zone. Things really, ruh-lly ended shortly thereafter. After it ended, we probably spoke about ten words to each other since then. The last time I saw him was about a year later in a group of people and he looked at the ground the whole time. I do know that he married a really sweet girl who (from what I gather) is a perfect match for him. So I have no desire to Facebook stalk or selfishly "reach out" and apologize, but if I could, I would say this: Thank you for being so nice and essentially an amazing friend to me for 2 1/2 years while I went through a lot of hidden and unprocessed emotional baggage and pain. Thank you for allowing me to realize that I am lovable when I thought I wasn't. I was just a broken and dysfunctional girl, and I'm sorry for any pain I caused.

Back to the story (...it really is going somewhere, but I fear I may not get there tonight.) For about 2 months after I ended things with Stan,  I had my fair share of partying and craziness (not, like, hard core partying, like small town underage drinking party in a barn). Self esteem, at this point, came in the form of Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade and Smirnoff Ice (back when it only came in one flavor) and I certainly was not lacking in either. I joined the cheerleading squad (again...we're talking small town here) and felt like I was living the life. That is,  until I woke up one morning on my former dorm-mate (AKA- guardian angel)'s couch, in her pajamas, unsure of how I got there. She explained how the night unfolded. Thankfully, nothing terrible happened outside of your usual frat party shenanigans, however there was a sneaking suspicion that I may had consumed a beverage that had a "roofy" in it. That is the only time I have ever drank and gotten to the point that I really, truly, still to this day, do not know what happened. I heard a story that they drove me to the ER, but the nurse who checked me out laughed and told them to take me home and let me sleep it off.   I cried and cried many, many tears mixed with intense relief, horror, and shame. This was not the life I had wanted.

No big deal, just running a HALF MARATHON next month...and other big things

So...yeah. I guess I have been running a bit lately

Let's start by saying that I am one of the least naturally athletic people I know, and I have historically said that runners are crazy. I did Couch to 5K with my neighbor for a couple months last summer just so we could laugh, talk, [and mostly walk] through the Portland Color Run.

One of my BFF's started C25K around the same time I did, but she stuck with it. As the months went on, I saw her become a real, dedicated, legit runner through Instagram and Nike+ app postings. I "watched" her tackle some long runs and the health and happiness that she exuded was apparent. In January I decided to bring the BOB Duallie back out and jumped right into some 2-3 mile runs. I had been doing Zumba classes 2-3 times a week, so I think I was fairly conditioned. I kept with it and ran consistently 3-4 times a week. Suddenly one day I ran 4 miles; something I have never done before. I felt so empowered by that, so I signed up for the Bridge to Brews-Portland10K. Three of my cherished friends from high school had tried talking me into running a half marathon in May, but I said that was just cray. Zee. Crazy.

Fast forward to Sunday- April 7th, 2013.

This girl...this girl right here; the never-could-be-a-runner girl; ran 6.2 miles in 1 hour and 5 minutes. (About 10:30min/mile). Now that pace is surely nothing to write home about, but what is amazing is that:
1) I ran the whole thing without stopping to walk once
2) I didn't pee myself or have to stop to pee (Lets be real. I've had 2 kids.)
3) I enjoyed myself the whole time; chatting with other racers and cheering on the mamas who actually pushed their jogging strollers during the race
4) I felt so jazzed and energized at the end that I was smiling and ready for my beer at the end (when I ran my 5K Shamrock run in 2011, I was so exhausted at the end that I passed on the celebratory green beer).

Running across the Fremont Bridge and all through downtown Portland on a Sunday morning with a few thousand other runners was such an amazing experience. The first mile was the hardest (mostly uphill), and the last half mile was pretty tiring since I was pushing myself at the end. I heard my name and time called out as I sprinted across the finish line and it made me want to cry. I did it. I just accomplished something big.

 

The whole thing made me decide to go ahead and sign up for that half marathon. Yep, all 13-point-something miles of it. If I could smile my way through 6.2 miles and chug a beer at the end, surely I could make 13. Even if I feel like I want to die at the end; even if I have to stop and walk a couple times to make it through; even if it takes me 3 hours to finish; I'm going to do it. And I seriously can't wait for that feeling when I cross the finish line because this has already required much more intensive training (um...hi 9 mile run before church yesterday...I was not smiling through that one.)

 

I think the finish will be even more emotional since the Boston Marathon tragedy on 4/16.  Not only will I be accomplishing the goal of running such a long distance, but I am also crushing my fears and anxiety about such a tragedy happening to me. After our family's near-miss of the Clackamas Town Center shooting, I have learned what it truly means to rely on God. In this world, there are sooo many things to fear and be anxious about, but day by day I am learning to let it go. There is a song that plays in my head over and over,

 

"I will fear no evil-

For my God is with me.

If my God is with me,

Whom then shall I fear?

..Lord, You never let go of me."

 

[the song is called, "You Never Let Go", I believe, but it seems like a contemporary spin on Psalm 23].

 

So there you have it. That's just ONE of the big things going on with us right now. The next time I write, I will talk about the story of how Ross's current employer told him that he's awesome and everything, but he might not be working out in the position they hired him for. So, they might let him go. Are you curious to know what happens next? I am, too...

PPD...or PPMD?

PMDD= Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. Remember those Yasmin, or YAZ ads? Those three girls sitting at a night club, sipping cosmopolitans, and talking about PMDD and to ask your doctor about YAZ?

According to the Mayo Clinic website, PMDD can be described as, " a severe, sometimes disabling extension of premenstrual syndrome (PMS). Although regular PMS and PMDD both have physical and emotional symptoms, PMDD causes extreme mood shifts that can disrupt your work and damage your relationships." (please visit the website for further information: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/pmdd/AN01372 ).

 I was diagnosed with PMDD when I was 17 years old; and subsequently started taking oral contraceptives (Yasmin, actually). It really, really helped me. Fast forward to late 2008. I stopped taking the pill and we tried to get pregnant three months later; and I succeeded. We had a beautiful baby girl that September 2009.

2010 is a year that I honestly hardly remember. I was a miserable working mom with a miserable unemployed husband. I regret our cloudy attitudes about our situations that were out of our control, but thankfully in all the darkness, we had a great light: Madelyn. It was a very tough year that challenged our marriage, but we prevailed.

In 2011, Ross was among the employed again, and I was able to reduce my work schedule to part time. We had a better balance and felt ready to add another member to the family. I found out I was pregnant with Ezra in June. I exercised and ate better with this pregnancy; making it an over better year for me. Ezra was born in February 2012. I was blessed to have a healthy pregnancy and delivery and felt immediately bonded and energized within an hour after delivering my son. I remember spending the one night in the hospital after having him- I felt so comfortable and confident that I had Ross go home and sleep with Maddy. I felt so at peace; alone with my new baby, nursing without difficulty, and just feeling like every thing was as it should be. I was able to follow the desire of my heart and stay at home with my children; rather than return to work after 3 months.

About 4-5 months later, things started to get more difficult. This is about the time that Ezra stopped being "Easy Ezzie", and started waking a lot at night. It should be noted that my period came back five months post partum despite breastfeeding on demand; precisely as it did with Madelyn. It was around this time that I started to notice more difficult periods where I would completely lose my temper with Maddy and Ross. With Madelyn, everyone assured me that the "Terrible Three's" were really worse than the "Terrible Two's".  I experienced moments of near loss of control anger, yelling at my daughter to take a nap and then stomping into my room, slamming the door, and throwing a shoe and/or scream into a pillow. Shortly after I would feel guilty and like I was a horrible mother. I confided in friends, who were very supportive and assured me that it was okay and agreed to pray for me. I would semi-jokingly say to others, "I sometimes feel like I have symptoms of post partum depression, but directed toward Maddy and not Ezra". I actually really did question whether or not I had PPD...but only at moments. I really didn't feel like I had PPD because I didn't really match the bullet points listed as symptoms. I relished in being a mother and caring for my newborn/infant. It was only brief periods that I would lose it.

It wasn't until one evening when I completely lashed out at Ross. He agreed to take the baby monitor while he stayed up playing video games so I could sleep. I was exhausted. 30 minutes after falling asleep, I heard Ezra crying. The crying escalated, and 5 minutes later, Ross had still not made his way up to comfort him. As it turns out, Ross had made a mistake and had the monitor on the wrong channel, and couldn't hear the cries from out in the man cave. I did not care about this mistake. I was so completely fuming with rage that I gave him a completely scary verbal beating. I stomped away wondering, "How did I ever marry such a complete ass hole? He is so selfish. He obviously doesn't care about me one bit". Through my cloud of rage, however, I also thought, "Why am I thinking this? This man is my dream guy and our relationship is so amazing most of the time. We are so happy and compatible. Why do I feel this way?". The next morning, through tears, I apologized to my husband and he lovingly forgave me (and also apologized for his mistake).

I don't remember when the light bulb "aha!" moment came, but I started to piece together that this was happening when I was pre-menstrual. I started delicately charting my symptoms on an app called "My Calendar", which I had already used in the past to track fertility for conception AND contraceptive purposes. I concurrently had cut wheat and most dairy from my diet for other issues I was having. I began exercising more regularly at least 3-4 times a week instead of sporadically.  I began to see an improvement and continued with that lifestyle. I communicate to Ross when I start to feel that dark cloud and he knows to have a bit more patience and grace.

Now fast forward to today. Just as a brief interval history, Ezra is currently dealing with RSV bronchiolitis which require nebulizer treatments three times a day. The fear of hospitalization from pneumonia sits on my shoulders (see also: I have irrational anxiety problems... ;) It is March 22nd, and our family has been sick non-stop since the second week in December. I try not to complain and be grateful for our blessings, and have been praising God as often as I can. But today, I was trying to get a sick, fussy, and hyper Ezra down for his nap when I heard Madelyn yelling at me to get her a snack and causing trouble in the next room. I looked down at my gargling baby as he kicked and bucked in my arms and said,

 "That's it! I JUST CAN'T DO IT!".

I set Ez in his crib, knowing well that he would start screaming, and went into that room of mine and shut the door and began to cry. Even as I continued to say "I can't do it", I knew that I had to. Even though I was in a very weak moment, I knew giving up wasn't an option and that somewhere in there I had the strength to get through it. I immediately texted five of my prayer warrior friends and shared my frustration and asked them to pray. Their quick, overwhelming responses immediately lifted me up. I took a deep breath and returned to my boy's room and rocked him to sleep successfully. I took another deep breath. I went downstairs and hugged my daughter; explaining to her that I was really sad that Ezra was sick, and that she is a really good girl. We made cookies together while Ezra slept.

I got onto the "My Calendar" app and discovered I am due to start my period in four days. I looked back as far as October when I started charting and sure enough; I had documented instances of loss of power/frustration...ALWAYS 4-5 days before the start of my cycle. It always lasts 1 day and one day only. And it seems to come on like clock work. If I am aware and anticipate this day, it is usually not a problem. I tend to crave sugar, wheat, and making that glass of wine a little extra full around that time, and if I avoid giving into that temptation then I usually can get through the month without an episode. I was not paying attention and impulsively ate pasta 2 days ago; and had a big glass of wine after a stressful day at work yesterday. It's amazing how it is easier to read and understand your own body when you cut out or limit most of the crap.

Alright...I am off to go on a therapeutic 4-5 mile run now. My kids have been patiently hanging out and now its time to go out and get some fresh air. I know it may seem in some ways that I have overdramatized losing my temper with the kids, but in my heart I know that I don't want to yell at them. Even though she can be a total brat (lets me honest), Maddy IS only 3 and needs more love and compassion than I sometimes think. I also find it extremely important to be the loving wife that Ross needs and deserves. I just want to be my best self and will strive toward anything that can help me accomplish that. Thank you for reading.

Disclaimer: I am pouring out my deepest, darkest moments in this post. I always, ALWAYS maintained safety for both of my children and never lost control enough to harm either of them (thus, why I described walking away so often). I am also not asking for referrals or crying out for help. I have an amazing support system with this and feel comfortable in my treatment plan. I have taken antidepressants in the past, and if it ever came down to it, I would take them again if I felt it were best for me and my family. I am sharing my story in hopes that it may find someone who can identify with what I am going through and not feel alone. I am obviously a little vulnerable about sharing this, but I feel so strongly that God allows us to go through trials so that we can minister to others.

Cinderella

Madelyn-
We got you the Disney movie Cinderella for Christmas this year. I admit to being just as excited about getting to watch it with you as I was about you enjoying it. As soon as you saw this movie once; it quickly became something you have wanted to watch daily (much to my delight). In fact, Cinderella kept you entertained and delighted when daddy's car broke down last week and we had to drive him to and from Canby. You like to quote it on a regular basis; your favorite saying being, "Oh that clock! Time to get up, you say;  time to start the day. Even he bosses me around!".

I watch this movie now with a whole new perspective than I had when I was a little girl your age. I couldn't help but notice how Cinderella and her prince fall in love after dancing together one night; and how they married soon after. The movie doesn't show them dating. It doesn't show them arguing or questioning things; it was just so simple. Once reunited, they lived happily ever after. For a moment, I had a bit of concern that you were watching this movie over and over and that this would be your perspective on love and finding the man you will marry. But I quickly changed my mind and decided this:

Madelyn, you deserve nothing less than your prince charming and your own fairy tale. You just need to take it with a grain of salt, because its a little more complicated than Cinderella's story. As your mom, I will explain to you how I hope you will find love.

Find a man who makes you feel nervous and comfortable at the same time. A man who gives you butterflies; yet you could talk to for hours and feel like you could tell him everything. And in return, he would listen to you and be captivated that a girl as outwardly beautiful as you could be so smart, kind, and funny. He would appreciate you for everything that you are- just amazing.

Also keep in mind that butterflies alone don't make a lasting love; make sure he is your best friend. Make sure you have plenty in common- not everything, as you should have your own hobbies to enjoy and other things that make you each individuals-but enough to share plenty of laughs and wonderful memories together along your journey.

He would be a really good man who loves his family and treats his parents well. He would love the Lord; and be a spiritual leader in the family for you and your future children. He would make you and your children his top prioroty and would work hard to support you.

Maddy, he won't be perfect. He will have his flaws. He will be weak at times. He will get angry at you, and you at him. You and he will fight from time to time (sometimes it may feel like all the time). But both of your bottom line will be that you both love and have comitted to each other.  Though you might get mad at each other, he would never EVER hit you or physically harm you in any way. He would never call you names or make you feel inadequate or that you're not wonderful; because you are.

Honey, your job in this fairy tale, is to be a strong, supportive, and loving wife. You will love and respect your prince.  You will learn how to swallow your pride and keep your stubborn mouth shut, even when you feel like you're right and he is wrong.  When times get tough and you feel unappreciated; take a step back and look at everything he does for you (and your future children). Life isn't always easy, and a true love and committment to each other and to God will carry you through any tough time you encounter (emphasis on God and committment- trust me on this one!).

Sweet Pea, your current Prince Charming (daddy) and I love you so much. I hope you read this one day and know just how valuable and amazingly precious you are. Don't ever sell yourself short.

"...if you keep on believing- the dreams that you wish will come true"

not to worry.

It's amazing how the events in our lives shape us and impact us. Especially events early on; during those vital young days where we are being shaped into the adults we are today.

Rewind: Maddy and Ezra were both pretty sick the week before Christmas. They both recovered, but Maddy seems to have a lingering low-grade fever that we can't quite explain. She mostly acts the same and is an active and healthy young girl, but as her worried mother I notice every little difference. She's quicker to have melt downs. She is napping about 1-2 times a week instead of NEVER. But she's eating, drinking, peeing, pooping. She's not coughing, sneezing, or oozing or complaining of pain.

Since we're at 3 weeks now of 99.5-100.4 degree temp, we visited her pediatrician today. He completed her exam without noting any abnormalities and explained, "Meh- sometimes kids just run a bit warmer than usual" (pardon my language, but that's bullsh*t). He suggested we have blood drawn if this persists or any new symptoms arise; such as night sweats, complaints of bone pain, weight loss, appetite loss.

Maybe its the worrier in me; maybe its the oncology nurse in me; but I couldn't help but worry about cancer. I stiffed the "worried anxious wreck mother" Amy,  and put on my "logical, calm, respectful" Amy face and followed his instructions and we went home. I mean, she is mostly normal. Aside from the temp. And the behavior. And this nagging feeling that something about my delightful little girl is just...off.  And my knowledge of symptoms of leukocytosis and common childhood malignancies nags and nags.

Ross and I had a very tense and serious discussion about this tonight. He was trying to be supportive, but also was getting a bit panicked and upset at me for even bringing the thought of cancer into the picture. Of course its always a possibility, but realistically the chances are very slim. I tried to explain that as an oncology nurse I probably was just able to read between the lines a bit more as he explained what kind of testing he wanted to do...and how he could never understand how much a mother worries about her children. As soon as that baby is conceived, the mother wants nothing more than to protect her baby. She will ALWAYS worry about him or her; and it was normal for me to worry about this, right? And then it hit me. I had to say it out loud:

"When I was sixteen, my dad became ill one day. He went to the hospital and had extensive testing done. They sent him home, telling him it was the flu; indigestion. The next morning; he died."

Every mother worries; but not like I do.

The experience of losing a loved one seemingly without warning has magnified how fragile life is. Since losing my dad; every time I have fallen in love, I have deeply feared losing that person. With Maddy and Ezra; its like 100000000000x as much. To make matters worse, my medical training and experience gives me enough   information to give me more to worry about.

As I wrap up this dismal post; I will finally mention hope. When my dad died; we survived. I became a stronger young woman. I am able to cope with death and minister to others who struggle with even beginning to fathom losing a loved one. Furthermore; I believe that Heaven is mine and my loved ones' final resting place and our spirits will be reunited in paradise one day. And it will be so beautiful that there should be nothing to fear.

I know in my heart that Maddy is fine. We have decided to have her blood drawn and tested on Monday so we can have peace of mind.

A Close Call

Yesterday was Ross's last day off before starting his new job. We decided to pack up the kids and head down to the nearby mall to get coffee and finish up some Christmas shopping. As usual, any outing with kids is a big production and multiple stops to eat, clean, potty, and play turned it into a three hour excursion. The shoppers seemed crabby and the kids were becoming that as well; so we purchased what we were able to find for our loved ones (including Christmas PJ's for the kiddies) and headed on home. It was 2:57pm when I looked at my phone as Ross started up the car to head home.

We had to stop at the gas station on 82nd Drive and we heard and saw sirens heading up I-205 like crazy. "Something big must have happened, there's cops and ambulances going crazy out there..." Ross said as he got back into the car.

When we walked in the door, both of our phones were ringing and text alarming like crazy. I looked down and had 3 missed calls. Ross turned on the news as I answered the phone call from my brother in law checking in to make sure we weren't at Clackamas Town Center, as there had been a shooting and the killer had not been found yet. I stood there in shock and began to tremble. After beginning to process these facts; most importantly the fact that we were home safe and unharmed; I started making calls and texts to our immediate family and let them know we were safe. I called my friend who had sent me two texts and frantically called twice. I texted my friend who works at the mall and found out that she was safe and had left just before the shooting as well. They say the shooting happened around 3:20pm; less than 30 minutes after we left.

I have been impacted tremendously by this in two major ways; one positive and one negative:

Positive:  I am so profoundly thankful to God for protecting my family and I yesterday; as well as two of my friends who happened to be there at the same time we were. There is no coincidence. We had already stayed out past the kid's nap times and we easily could have gone up to the food court to feed our cranky kids (the shooting occurred in the food court). We just decided we had been there long enough.
This incident is a great reminder and lesson for me that God is (in fact) in ultimate control! As much as I would like to think I am the one in charge of my family's safety; He is. Besides; it was my decision to go to the mall yesterday. I am admittedly a control freak and constantly worry about things like my kids getting sick or getting in a car accident if someone else is driving them. I am the ones who took my babies to a mall that was about to become a crime scene, but our Lord protected us and lead us home just in time. Wow.

Negative: Paradoxically, I am now more fearful of being in big public places. Since the attack on 9/11/01, I have been mildly afraid to be in airports, convention centers, and other large places full of people. It didn't stop me from going; but it would linger on my mind when going into those places. As of now; I am not sure when I will feel comfortable stepping into large stores or events with my children. I would go alone, but not with the babes.
This SO contradicts my first point, because I know that if I truly trusted Jesus, then I would not be afraid. I was supposed to go to the same mall on Friday to have Santa pictures taken with the kids, but I just don't know if I can. Ross, who is sometimes just annoyingly wise and faithful, said that we absolutely go. He said he would hate to see businesses and families suffer more than they already will; and that I should have faith that God is protecting our family. Not only is he right, but logically the odds of there being ANOTHER shooting there are pretty much nonexistent. We will see.

Are you going shopping in any malls soon after what happened at Clackamas Town Center yesterday?

Bullies.

We watched The Christmas Story last night. It made me think about bullies of the past and present. When we were kids, we might think of a bully looking something like this:

source:http://thr4.pgmcdn.net/sites/default/files/imagecache/thumbnail_570x321/2012/01/zack_ward_as_scut_farkus_2012_h.jpg

As we got into our teen years, many girls would say their bully looks something like this:

As an almost thirty year old woman; This is what my bully looks like this:

I'm sure this woman is very lovely and I have no idea who she is; I just Googled "Middle Aged Woman". Source: http://blogs.ktk985.com/files/2010/05/middle-aged-woman.jpg

How funny is it that past our childhood years; bullies of women are typically women; and how they change form over the years. Its no longer the prettiest and most successful that are mean to their peers; nor is it the troubled; misguided person who has lived a rough life. In my experience; it is the typical mom-next-door.

Whether its the friend who makes subtle, sugar coated snide comments about her child being better than yours, the internet troll who makes up fake screen names and signs on to your blog to call you and your family ugly (never happened to me, but it has to my peers), or the woman at work who gossips with your co workers about her fabricated and embellished version of things that you did or said.

I have always been a timid person. Confrontation and I just don't mix very well. At ALL. When I have been bullied as an adult (see examples given above); I am often blind sided by it and don't realize the impact of that person's words until later on. Then I would stew and think about it; getting all worked up; until I would talk to a friend or my husband about it. Then I would hold on to it for way too long. If I did finally work up the effort to confront the person I felt bullied by; by that point I would be overly worked up and emotional and it would not go well.

Well, I decided to change that.

Yesterday I was in a crowded Zumba class at the gym, trying to enjoy my hour of sweat and not-care-about-the-world time. Two middle aged women (friends) were in front of me; choosing to take the front of class spot (I'm not a front row-er; tend to do second or third row.) It was clear that the woman closer to me was not keeping up well, and she kept backing up more and more and more...almost running into me several times and closing me out. I know that she saw me, and It started to get to the point where I was wondering if she was doing it intentionally. But I just kept moving and assuming the best of intent.  Since it got to the point where I was on the verge of now bumping into the nice woman behind me, I saw a big open space in front of the two women and went for it. "Ah, there" I thought. Now there's room for everyone! Then I felt someone tap my shoulder. It was Mrs. Uncoordinated:

"Um, I THINK you want to be back there". [pointing to my former spot].

Without batting a lash, I looked right at her and responded, "Yes, I did want to be back there, but you kept running into me so I had no where else to go. Can we just enjoy the class?".

She didn't say a word; just walked back to her spot; leaving ample room for me this time.

Bullies of the world: 57 Amy: 1

If you are a timid one like me, I encourage you to make the choice to stand up for yourself in these situations. Sure, a dance room scuffle might seem like a ridiculously tiny thing; but it wasn't about having a spot to dance. It was about kindly and confidently demonstrating to  someone that they were being silly and just cannot disrespect me like that.

It pains me that internet bullying has created a death toll that is just too high (as in, anything greater than zero is just. too. high.). Internet bullying takes things to an all new low; in that you don't even have to look the person in the eye while eating away at their self esteem and worth. When I was a little girl and someone was mean to me at school, my mom would say:

"They are probably mean to you at school because someone is being mean to them at home."- wise words from Martha Minty; my beautiful mother.

We can even apply this to adulthood as well:
-They are being mean to you because they are dissatisfied with themselves
-They are being mean to you because they want what you have (jealousy)
-They are being mean to you because someone was being very mean to them and they have to direct their anger somewhere
-They are being mean to you because they are bored and misguided.

No one who is completely blessed, happy, and grateful for their lives has any reason to display this kind of behavior. The best thing I think I can do would be to pray for those people, and treat them with kindness while still respecting myself and my friends or family (I have done this ONE time now, LOL. So this is not a preachy high horse message).

How do you deal with bullies?

A Brief Catching Up

I am hoping to get more and more away from the bookFace and document more of my life on here. While I love posting a little snippet of my life and getting a little conversation going; I just have found that it takes too much extra little time out of my day. Also I am a total hypocrite and have kind of become one of those people who posts NOTHING but stuffs about their kiddlets. I personally don't have a problem with that, but   I would rather be writing something more worthwhile that has longevity that I can reference when I FINALLY decide to make those baby books than sharing Ezra cutting his first tooth with 251 of my closest strangers and acquaintances. One before the other; and I figure anyone who actually thinks I have anything relevant to say will read my blog.

Okay...but the truth is I just have to share with someone other than my immediate friends and family some exciting news. We are on pins and needles because Ross had a second job interview with a company yesterday. He met with the VP, had a tour of the place, and his interview took over 1.5 hours. I think that's a good sign, but nothing is for sure until we get that offer. We have been through this before and have been disappointed before; so we are just waiting faithfully. Lord; my husband has gone through 7 years of job instability and dissatisfaction (3 of those years he was unemployed). We would really love for him to have this job.

I also am in talks with my previous employer. They want me back (Cue N'SYNC's "I Want You Back") and  I want them back; so we are negotiating a one day/week gig- something they said they couldn't do 10 months ago. Stay tuned for that as well. ("You're all I ever wanted...you're all I ever neeeeeded...Yeeaaaah....").I love being a stay at home mom, but my degree/licence is an important thing for me to keep and honor for when the kids grow up or if we need me to step up to the plate (financially) again. Also? I'd like us to stop stressing about money and I have college funds and some overdue shopping trips on the brain [lets be honest]. Either way; I got to stay home with my baby for his first year of life. Thank You Lord. I think Maddy would have preferred I went to work, but our relationship has been through a lot (ultimately positive) this past year. But that's a whole post in itself. 

EZRA. 

Oh my goodness. My son. My sweet boy is 9.5 months old and is learning how to walk now. He walks holding on to furniture and with his little push toys (or a chair, or step stool, anything he can get his chubby little hands on). He cut his first tooth on Thanksgiving day (L. bottom middle incisor), and he is in the process of cutting his second one (the right side counterpart). He takes two solid naps a day (1 hour at 9ish and 2-3 hours at 2ish) and likes to go to bed right at 7pm. He is so unlike his sister- in that he KNOWS when he needs to sleep and has no problem accepting it and going to bed. 

While I love him to death,  he is kind of a whiney little mama's boy [secretly love it]. He is devilishly handsome with golden blond hair and big blue eyes. he is above the 100th percentile for height and about 50-75th for weight as of his 6 month visit (oops, just realized we are late for the 9 monther). He wakes up at night (again, unlike his sister- who fights sleep to the death but then is comatose for 12 hours straight).

MADDY

Look out world. This little girl is ahead of her class, according to her teachers; and she was technically not even supposed to start preschool this year since she didn't turn 3 until 9/19. We are so proud of her abilities, but with these abilities come more challenges to the parents. She has an iron will and I am learning how to handle that gracefully. As I mentioned in my previous post we had a very dark month where I just did not have the patience and strength to deal with her arguing and fighting. I made a huge mistake and fought her when I should have just been a loving parent and given her simple cause and effect/ behavior and consequences. I have learned SO much, and we are still working on it. I of course am too hard on myself and worry that our fights will affect our relationship for life. Then she hugs me tight, kisses me on the lips and says, "I love you SOOOO much, mama", and I know we will be fine.

Okay, Ezra's awake. Back to the daily grind and waiting to hear about jobs!

"I Hear You..."

(http://www.someecards.com/usercards/viewcard/MjAxMi02ZDE0ODQ4ZDViZTI3ZmQx)

What do you think when you read this? What is the tone, the message, and the intent? Working moms everywhere are pinning this, "liking", and "sharing" this on Facebook. To me; the message is, "Yeah! How can stay at home moms complain!?! They have SO much time on their hands. I do everything they do but I work." Am I fabricating this, or am I right? Okay, well I know I'm right. Because a little over a year ago I would have said the same thing. Maybe, if I was feeling particularly bitter, I would even share this photo. Even from a former working mother's prospective; its hard to look at this card as anything other than condescending. Which is why it really bums me out that women everywhere are posting this.

These days: I am eating big fat slices of humble pie in regards to ever thinking SAHM's have it easy. The truth is that I hated being a working mom and despised the fact that I had to leave my daughter while someone else cared for her during the day. I hated pumping and washing pump parts. I hated scrambling to find childcare if someone was sick and feeling the stress that my manager would be irritated if I called in sick because either myself, my daughter, or my babysitter were all sick at one point in the course of 2 weeks. I was sick with guilt when someone scratched my daughter all over her face at day care, and then screamed/sobbed hysterically when I dropped her off there the next day. (wait, she sobbed, or I sobbed? yeah, we both did). I resented the fact that I had to earn enough income to keep our health benefits and house payment. I realize that not every working mom feels this way; but I did. (praises to working moms who are way stronger and step up to the plate more gracefully than I did). And for these reasons I resented SAHM's because they had what I wanted. As I contemplated the possibility that I might have to go back to work after having my son and leave both him and my daughter, it got to the point where I almost cried every time a friend of mine discussed their plans and days staying home with their children. So YES. I would be quite bitter if I was unhappily trudging into work 3-5 days a week and some mom on Facebook posted pictures of her and her kids baking muffins, gluing glitter onto construction paper; and then complaining about the laundry never ending. Would it be her fault that I felt so bad? Absolutely not. It would be my own issues with feeling bad about my situation; so I would find a way to bring that woman down to make myself feel better. (why do we do this to each other. WHY?) Anyway, that's my guess as to how this meme was born.

Now lets dissect the other side of this E-Post card; not the warrior working mom, but that lazy, privileged whining SAHM. Here are just the facts that often aren't acknowledged:

1) Unless you have a full time house keeper and personal chef;  if you stay at home with your kids, you will be preparing, feeding, and cleaning up after 3 meals and day plus snacks. And don't snicker; day in and day out is is a LOT of work. If we happen to eat a hot dog at Costco one day, I come home and feel kind of amazed that I don't have to go through the motion of feeding a 3 y/o and 9 month old; The arguing over what she will and won't eat, Ezra throwing his food and getting it everywhere, cleaning the high chair and sweeping and mopping after every meal. Don't underestimate.
2) If your spouse is working full time or more and you stay at home; it is likely there will not be a division of the house chores. Laundry, dishes (which there will be ton of since you are cooking and eating at home), cleaning (when your kids stay home instead of going to day care, your house is only clean within a 2 minute window after cleaning it or when they are asleep), pet care, bathrooms....its all you, mama.
3) Believe it or not; kids don't play happily by themselves confined to one little corner in your house; coming out only for water and potty breaks. They need to be entertained and socialized n' sh*t. Playdates, dance lessons, children's museum, library, etc. will keep any mom away from her pampering session at home while painting her fingernails while kids play in the aforementioned corner (or whatever it is SAHM's allegedly do with all their spare time). Now the truth is; if you get a buddy involved this can be quite fun for mommy, too. But then again, one could find a lot of fun social relationships while at work, too.
4) $$$ to $. We cut out household income in half when we chose to have me stay at home and raise our babies. There are no pedicures, cocktails with the girls, extravagant date nights, and shopping sprees. This isn't every mom's situation, but I know it is many. When I worked, I got to enjoy those extra perks from time to time. The reduced dollah signs also means that mama has to be creative, frugal, and diligent in the kitchen. No more yummy pre-assembled pasta dishes from the store, no more, "I feel like Thai tonight"; no more, "I think I'll pick up a pizza on the way home from work!". (Again- not everyone's situation but I know that its that of many).
5) Take a day when one or both of the kids doesn't nap and/or is feeling particularly cranky. Now take that day and consider that there may be 5 days in a row JUST.LIKE.THAT. One particularly difficult month when Maddy was in her terrible twos, I cried almost every day as she gave up her naps all together. Being a working mom was HARD, but I never found myself in such a dark place as I was when I was freshly postpartum with a sassy young lady testing every boundary possible. (in other words- its not for the faint of heart. There was a lot of growth happening that month!).

Okay, so have I spelled it out enough? Am I overreacting? [maybe]. I find myself defending both working and stay at home moms, when we really should just support each other. Or, what if we just didn't give a crap either way? You stay at home? Great. You work? Great. Just say no to smug little eCards. Opinions are fine...but maybe we should examine why we feel that way before putting it out into the world. [like I just did ;)]

Dear Baby

I just found this in my drafts and wanted to share this. In the first week after we found out we were pregnant with Ezra, we had a miscarriage scare. I discovered bright red bleeding. The OB (not my OB, another doctor) told me that there was a 50% chance of the "pregnancy" surviving and that I shouldn't get attached. That was my Ezzie in there, and I'm so thankful he is sleeping upstairs right now:

7/6/2011- You certainly have your mom worried right now. I am waiting to see the doctor, because we are scared we might be losing you. Keep in mind, your mom has a problem with excessive worrying, but the bleeding is not helping one bit. I know that miscarriages are very common this early; but I feel like I just got comfortable with the idea of you sticking around for almost 8 more months, and I REALLY was looking forward to holding you next March. Daddy is at work, your sister is at the babysitters, and I am here praying that everything is okay. God has already decided the plan for your life, and He knows what the outcome of this will be.


I wrote this after I had gotten home from my OB appointment that was not reassuring at all. I remember seeing the little sac on the ultrasound, and even though the doctor was cold and emotionless as she told me my uterus was full of blood and that the "pregnancy" may detach (she refused to call it a baby and corrected me when I called it a baby); I had a feeling you were okay. And here you are- such a blessing and joy in my life.

Love,
Mom

Easy Ezzie: The Birth Story

Don't hate me because I have easy labor/deliveries.

Friday 2/17/12- 37 weeks/6 days
I was down to working 2 days/week and had worked the day before. I had my 38 week appointment that afternoon. The previous week I was 3cm dilated. Dr. Tan told me I was 5.5cm dilated and he could palpate mild contractions. I had no idea what he was talking about; as I didn't feel anything. He tried to have me press on my abdomen when a contraction came so I could see what it felt like. I lied and said, "Oh yeah, I can feel that". He then stripped my membranes which caused me to almost pass out. Thank God little Maddy sat on a chair about a foot away from me happily typing away on her V-Tech Innotab tablet; she usually panics when I get my temperature taken.

After my episode faded away, I was feeling a little better and not so freaked out and worried I would go into labor right there. He teetered back and forth but ultimately decided to let me go home; with his private pager number written down with the instructions: "As soon as YOU feel a contraction, or your water breaks, just go straight to the hospital and page me on your way there."

That evening we had pizza with our neighbor friends Chris and Jodi. We then split off (as usual) with the boys going to their house to play video games and the girls staying at our place. As we chatted I felt what I thought were contractions. They came in waves like contractions, but were only mildly uncomfortable. If I wasn't 38 weeks pregnant, I probably would have ignored them. But given the circumstances; we timed them and they were about 7 minutes apart. Hmm.

It was 10:30pm. I contemplated going to the hospital, but Jodi encouraged me to go to bed and sleep. I am SO glad I did...

Saturday 2/18/12- 38 weeks

5:37am- Ouch. Okay THAT was a contraction, and it woke me up. (sound familiar? ;) I nudged Ross and said, "time to get ready, here he comes".

5:42am- Another contraction, and dammit its really starting to hurt. Let's go.  "I think we should go now; call your mom and I'll call Jodi (Ross's parents live 20 min away, so we worked out a plan to have Jodi come to our house immediately so we could go straight to the hospital, and stayed there with Maddy until Ross's mom got there).


6:00am- Longer, stronger, closer together. As soon as Jodi gets there we hop in the car. I page Dr. Tan; he calls within 3 minutes. He is seriously the best doctor ever.


6:15am- @ the hospital. "Dr. Tan called us and we're ready for you." They offered me a wheelchair, but I declined because I remembered it was harder to sit still while contracting. She offered to escort us to the maternity ward, but we said we knew where it was. WELL, we forgot, so we wandered the halls a little bit. Silly, silly Lumsdens. 


6:30am- Did I mention my water still hadn't broken? Well it didn't. The nurses told me that Dr. Tan gave them strict instructions "not to touch me; just get my IV started and then he would come in and check me". I could tell the gal was nervous, and she blew my gigantic hand vein on her first try. Even with the contractions, I tried to boost her morale and confidence, because starting IV's is about 50 % skill and 50% confidence. She missed the other hand. I showed her my beautiful forearm vein, and she told me it had "too many valves", and proceeded to explain what valves were to me. As an IV nurse; I had to bite my tounge REALLY really hard. Dr. Tan poked his head in a couple times; looking a bit annoyed. I allowed them to poke me again which was another fail. Then I got impatient and started giving them tips (in between contractions) and pointed out good veins. Even in the transition stage of labor, I proved to be my usual neurotic awkward self by fearing that the nurses would think I was a drug addict because I was pointing out all my "good veins" and what kind of person does drugs when she's pregnant? So I finally told her I was an IV nurse. This was probably a good thing, because then they got all squiggly and grabbed their supervisor to start the darn thing. She was successful.

7:00am-7:15am- Dr Tan checks me and I'm 9-9.5 cm but my water still hadn't broken. He wants to give me a bit more time. Pain meds are offered but refused. I took a shot of Fentanyl when delivering Maddy and I don't think it helped at all, so why bother? The nurse told me that if I felt the urge to push or bear down, then I need to tell her because then she would get Dr. Tan and I could start pushing. I lied and told her I felt it, because I just wanted my baby to be born and the painful contractions to be over with

7:30am- Dr. Tan offers to break my water, and I'm whining because I want anything that will help me deliver the baby faster. He breaks it and I feel the warm gush which was SO weird. Not like peeing your pants; like a warm waterfall (sorry). My water broke in small spurts with Maddy, so I had never felt that before. Then I got to start pushing.

7:54am- Ezra James is born and immediately placed on my chest. My first thought was how adorable and perfect he was; but how crazy that he didn't look a thing like my Maddy did when she first came out. They offered both Ross and I to cut the cord and we both declined. We're not all symbolic like that; we just wanted to marvel at our new baby boy (who's name was actually not decided at the time).

Delivering the placenta was a tad more uncomfortable than I had remembered, but not too bad. The after pains when nursing were worse this time around, but the ibuprofen helped a lot. Ezra took to nursing immediately with a great latch. If you are a faithful reader of my blog, you will remember my documentation of what a horrible time we had getting Maddy to latch. He was pretty textbook and wanted to eat about every 2-2.5 hours.

I don't think I lost very much blood, because 2 hours after delivering him I got out of bed, showered, put on makeup (visitors were coming) and even curled my hair a bit. I was SO excited when Maddy arrived and cautiously and bashfully climbed into bed with me and met her new baby brother. I had missed her. As I cradled my new baby boy with one arm and cuddled Maddy with the other, I felt like my family was complete. It was such an amazing feeling.

Ross and I decided that he would go home with Maddy and stay overnight with her so she wouldn't have to go through too many changes all at once (I was so troubled about how she would handle the new baby and all the changes). It got a bit lonely spending the night in the hospital without Ross, but I enjoyed getting to bond with my baby boy. He stayed in the room with me all night; except for the 30 minutes when they did his hearing test.

The next morning he had his pediatrician exam before his circumcision. Ezra had a strong latch and nursed for at least 30-45 min at a time, so I asked if it was okay to give him a pacifier. I could already tell he was a comfort sucker/nurser and I would have to end the nursing sessions myself because he just wouldn't stop. My nurse and the doctor were both supportive of it, so we went ahead with it.  When it was time for the circ, they asked if Ross and I wanted to go with him but we both declined. Having our boy leave the room to have "surgery" was surprisingly difficult. Ross couldn't stand it, so he left to go be with him.


I will NEVER forget the feeling I had when they brought my baby boy back in the room. They had been gone for a half an hour and I was starting to worry a bit. I remember it was about that time that they wheeled my sweet boy back in the room in his little clear bassinet. I had envisioned a baby who had just been circumcised would be screaming and wailing, but my little guy laid their happily sucking on his pacifier like nothing had happened. He just looked so sweet and completely took my heart. We went home 2 hours later. 


We picked the name Ezra after reading Maddy one of her favorite books by Ezra Jack Keats; "Snowy Day". It was such a special book at that time, as it always made her so happy when we read it. The rest is history.  We call him Easy Ezzie because he is such a sweet, happy, gentle baby. 


At 4 months old now, Ezra wears 9-12 month clothing and is still as sweet as can be. He and Maddy get along just great and she loves entertaining and holding him. I'm not saying that its easy managing 2 little kids, but at this point they bring me so much joy that I don't even care about the challenges. 

"So How Do You Spend Your Days Now?"

2 weeks ago my [former] co-workers had a little hootn'anny and also recognized my leaving the company after almost 4 years there.

Yes, folks, right now; for the first time in my life, I am a stay at home mom* (!!!)

A question that was asked twice was not only the title of this post, but I feel was also a sincere curiosity of what Amy does when she's not giving chemotherapy, starting IV's, and answering endless questions about nausea, vomiting, and constipation. The answer I gave to my co-workers was not well thought out and I fear was a little laced with a need to justify myself. From the moment I decided to be a stay at home mom, I worried what my co workers would think. How silly is that? Very. Very silly, I tell you.  The answer I gave was along the lines of:

"Caring for an infant and 2 year old, changing diapers, potty training Maddy, cooking, cleaning, play dates, running...the list goes on".

I wish I would have just simply said:
"Caring for my family and raising my kids."
PERIOD. No need to justify.

So really, what am I doing now? Okay, I'll tell you:

Caring for and raising a strong willed, beautiful, intelligent 2.5 year old girl and learning how to overcome her attitude and behavioral issues while bringing out the many positive attributes of her personality and spirit; while making sure she knows how loved she is.
Breastfeeding, changing diapers, troubleshooting, and snuggling a squishy 90th percentile 3 month old baby who is a mini version of my husband and father (seriously, how lucky am I?)
Loving and caring for my husband; who works hard to provide for our family and loves us on a very large scale.
Keeping our home clean* and providing nourishing and healthful meals.
Strengthening my friendships and connecting with other moms who give me support and build me up on difficult days
Exercising and becoming stronger and more healthy
Growing closer to the Lord.
Getting a hold of my anxiety and stress issues and working through them on tough days without relying on sugar or a big glass of wine after 4 pm (how I "got through" a very tough month, but am not wanting to continue that); but relying on prayer (and a double jogging stroller and a C25K program) and faith in myself with the strength the Lord gives me. Whew, that was a mouthful.
Simplifying our lives and learning how to stop being a slave to money and material possessions.
Cleaning and ridding our lives of clutter and excess.
Feeding our family mostly all natural, unprocessed whole foods on $400 or less a month (we cut our income in half and are still managing to pay all our bills without living paycheck to paycheck simply by cutting back, cooking and baking more,  and couponing ;)
Doing cloth diaper laundry (plus laundry for 4 people)
Planting a garden (we set up a 4'x8' planter box and are growing some of our own stuff)
Using a skin care regimen and caring for my body and face
Shaving my legs (I had to add in the last two, because I am sad to say I used to be so overwhelmed by all the stuff in my life that I never actually took care of these things enough)
Finally as of this moment? Documenting our lives in my blog.

So there you have it. I think I am spending my time responsibly and joyfully. By the way, I am not writing this out to justify anything; but more to share with my readers (anybody?anybody?) what my life consists of at this point in my life. It is a far cry from the woman I was 6 months ago. I have experienced so much spiritual and emotional growth and happiness that I can't even describe. I could write forever and ever on this subject, but I am going to go spend some QT with the hubs.

*I am in the process of finding a new job with the IV therapy team at a nearby hospital who is interested in my skill set. I am looking for a 12/hr a week gig that will allow my children to be under the car of their daddy or grandma while I am there. I financially and emotionally can't do daycare right now. The position isn't even created yet, so I likely won't start working for a while still. I'm happy with that. I am enjoying being strictly a SAHM for a season of my life, but I do still have a passion for being a nurse and will not give up all the hard work I did to become a nurse.

Ezra's Story

About 10 months ago, I was going to be the head nurse for a new oncology and hematology clinic opening up within a certain large health corporation. I was going to be the only nurse working in the small clinic; mixing chemotherapy, caring for patients, giving treatments, and introducing a new doctor to the company. Unfortunately, the start of this path coincided with our plans of trying to conceive our second child. When you are pregnant or trying to conceive, you cannot mix chemotherapy. After two weeks of trying to conceive, we decided we should put off our plans to conceive until the clinic was up and running and required a second RN so that I could still take advantage of the career opportunity ahead of me. I remember the conversation with my manager about giving up the position because we were trying to conceive; then 2 weeks later telling her that we were waiting, so I could take to position after all. Our conversation ended with me saying, "So we decided we're not ready for another baby yet. So I CAN mix chemo. Unless, if by some chance I'm pregnant now...in which case, [looking down at belly] um, I still love and want you, baby!".

2 weeks later, I had an unexpected positive pregnancy test. We were surprised, but excited. This baby was obviously meant to be in our lives at that time. I was pretty bummed about giving up my career opportunity, but I have always loved being a mother more than my job, so it wasn't too big of a deal to me.

A week later, I had bright red bleeding. Terrified, I called my OB's office and the nurse warned me that I was likely having a miscarriage; due to my symptoms. She advised that I just "wait it out, because it was so early on and and before First Response tests were invented, women often didn't even know they were pregnant and just thought their period was late." Or I could come in for an ultrasound "just for my peace of mind". Of course I opted for the appointment.

Suddenly the baby we weren't sure we were ready for was all that mattered. I was seen by my OB's partner who identified the "pregnancy" on the ultrasound (she actually made a point to correct me when I called it a baby) and said my uterus was full of blood and there was a 50% chance of miscarriage. She said, "I'm sorry, but you'll just have to wait it out. But I wouldn't get attached if I were you."

Even though her words were in no way reassuring, I felt confident when I saw the little blob on the screen was going to be okay. A week later I was blessed(?) with the worst fatigue and nausea I could ever imagine. I KNEW things were okay at that point.

I continued to have to worst pregnancy symptoms up until about 17-18 weeks when we found out we were having a boy! The rest of the pregnancy went great. I even made it to the gym up to 37 weeks. At 38 weeks, I gave birth to our sweet Ezra James- weighing in at 7lbs 2 oz 18.5" long.

To be continued: Ezra's Birth Story

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Quick Stats: December 9, 2011

Pregnancy and baby boy:

I had my 28 week appointment today! Baby is healthy, and for the most part, so am I.

I failed my 1 hour glucose tolerance test again (just like with Maddy) but thankfully my OB is a very reasonable man and we agreed that if I took the grueling 3-hour test it would turn out similarly to the last one: sitting in a lab for >3 hours, me vomiting up the nasty drink; or keeping it down but then almost having a hypoglycemic emergency cause my body just doesn't handle large doses of sugar/carbs well. We settled on a plan of skipping that nonsense and me cutting way back on carbs/sugar and agreeing to exercise more. Done.

Weight: +20 lbs from pre-pregnancy weight. Not bad

Symptoms: ugh. Poor bladder control when sneezing, and other unpleasantness "down there". HUGE boobs. Way bigger than last time. Come to think of it, they may be responsible for at least half of the weight gain...

I'm having a lot of hip and lower back pain, but otherwise feel pretty great! I am thankful that I should be able to stay pretty active until delivery day; Lord willing everything continues to go well and without complication.

Baby Stats (approximate): Per ultrasound; baby boy Lumsden weighs about 2 lb13oz! Dr. T. said he is healthy and strong. He opened his eyes and it felt like he was looking right at me on the screen; I felt like I was on another planet; it was so unreal. I can't wait to meet and hold him. He currently is transverse; with his feet on my right side. He just LOVES kicking/dancing on my ribs, and those must be little hands/elbows that tippity tap on my bladder.

Name: Undecided; we have it narrowed down to 3 so far but have decided to meet him before deciding for sure.

Maddy

Oh, Maddy. This girl amazes me every day. I have never enjoyed being a mother more than I do now. I don't know if I just enjoy a 2 year old more, or if this parenting thing just gets better with time and experience. She does new things every day.

Words/Personality- Today she pulled out "I am a Bunny", opened it up, and started to "read it". I know she wasn't actually reading it, but she would say, "I am bunny. My name is Nicolas. I live in hollow tree"; turn the page, and then continue saying the correct words that corresponded with the pages. She is also becoming more and more attached to Ross and I; and showing and verbalizing her affection. She tells us she loves us often; and says her own prayers every night. She likes to say, "Thank you, Jesus, for mommy and daddy's jobs, cars, and baby brudder in mamma's tummy". She can now count to twenty (except for she skips 18 and says 19 twice. She used to skip 8 too!). She loves her friends and is still very social. I love watching her interact with other kids; she's really considerate and kind to them. UNLESS, she is playing with my smart phone.

With such an active mind comes a few challenges. She does not nap most days; and even if she does it isn't until 4pm and its because I make her go in her room because she's getting too emotional and dramatic. If I can make it through the day without her napping, then she typically goes down for bed okay and sleeps until 8am or so.

Potty Training? Yeah, no. Here's how most of our potty conversations go:

Me: "Momma's going potty"

Maddy: *runs into bathroom and demands* "I wanna go potty TOO!"

Me: "Great! You can use your special pink potty"

Maddy: "NO!"

Me: "Okay, how about the white one?"

Maddy: "NO! I don't WANNA go potty!"

I don't get it, but I don't want to push it yet. I am not looking forward to having 2 kids in cloth diapers, but what are you gonna do?

Oh, and as for Ross and I? We are BUSY. He is working full time and I am working 24 hrs/week. We continue to be involved in our church. We are grateful for our friends and family; we are extremely blessed in that area. We get so much love and support from them. I am so happy that Maddy has great relationships with her grandparents, aunties, and uncles.

We have made some changes recently with trying to live more simply, responsibly, and faithfully with our finances. It has been a huge positive change in our lives and I am excited about how the next few years goes as our family goes through more changes as well!

Okay....I feel like I just wrote a generic Christmas letter. How fitting; since I decided not to even try to attempt to send out Christmas cards this year (I always fail).

Merry Christmas everyone!!!

A Mother's Dillemma

Well I have some good news and bad news. First the good news:

As I typed in the Blogger website after deciding to write this post, I realized; "I blog a lot more when I am facing a challenge in my life or things aren't going the way I want them to". I am not very good at documenting my happiness; I just enjoy it, or am too busy to think about it. So since I haven't been a good blogger, then its a safe assumption that things have been going very well for us!

When I have a matter that causes unrest in my soul, it is constantly on my mind and heart. I think about it, pray about it, and talk to any loving and patient friend who will listen. I am an over-thinker, so that naturally spills over into my blog.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have struggled with being a working mom. When Ross was unemployed, I just didn't have a choice so it was what I had to do despite my wants and desires to stay at home with my baby. Now, I consider my pay and benefits for even just working part-time too much of a blessing to give up. Not to mention the rewards of my career. I am good at what I do and feel valued by the doctors I work with and my patients. It can be very satisfying.

But no amount of money and praise is as satisfying as sitting here with a cute 2 year old with her cheek on my arm. Making pancakes (or just cereal) and coffee in the morning and kissing my sweet husband before he goes to work and then being in a good mood when he comes home with dinner made feels great too. In approximately 4 months, I'll be cradling a new pile of moosh who will want my boobs and my arms as much as he can get them. And lets not forget his sweet sister. The thought of leaving a a 3 month old baby AND Maddy to go back to work (even 3 days a week) sends a panicky feeling through my body. Ross and I have been contemplating what we are going to do when that time comes; but naturally we have been putting it off. Its too hard to think about and I'm scared to choose between my (part-time) career and my family. [not saying that moms who work choose their career over their family--- this is particular to me. I am not good at doing both; I was not made that way].

I am in awe of some of my co workers who work 4-5 days a week with little ones and seem to rock it (I've reference this thought/envy in a previous blog). Seeing them makes me feel guilty and like I should just suck it up and work without complaining. But every morning I leave for work, saying goodbye to my daughter just feels painful and unnatural. Even though I completely trust my mother in law(1 day/week) and Maddy's babysitter(2 days/week) I still HATE it. At the top of my "selfish me"prayer list has been asking God for help and peace with making a decision about what to do about work once junior arrives.

2 nights ago I read a letter from our babysitter, "G" letting us know that she wouldn't be providing childcare anymore as of December 1st. I don't know if I was able to tell you about G, but I found her because my good friend "J" has been taking her daughter (and Maddy's buddy) B there for 2 years. I would normally never feel comfortable taking Maddy to a day care, but I knew how much J loved and trusted her; and when I met her I felt instantly at ease and even learned that we go to the same church. The fact that G lives up the street from us made it even better. And I don't even know if you would call it a "Day Care" because she is usually just watching Maddy and B, and Maddy LOVES it. I felt like it was the best possible situation I could have for having to use a day care/babysitter. But this option is leaving us shortly, and we have some choices to make.

Have you ever had a moment when you KNOW what you're supposed to do, without a doubt? When God (or Whomever you believe in, to be fair) speaks to you, telling you what you need to do and you can't deny it? I have only had this happen to me a handful of times; and its extremely convicting and powerful. I have probably cried 8 times in the past 24 hours; because its so overwhelming and I know I can't put this off anymore. I asked for guidance and help making a decision; and I got my answer. I tried to work around it and started searching for day care options/nannies in my area but again this just evoked fear and discomfort and reduced me to tears again. Its not right. Not for us at least.

In the mean time, Ross needs to hammer out a few details with his job. His job still isn't as stable as mine, so relying on his income would be taking a huge leap of faith. He is going to see if he can work a couple evenings a week so he can watch Maddy during the day while I work. For now, we still need my benefits for my OB visits and the baby's arrival. After that, it will be interesting to see how things work out. We have had enough road bumps that we are not too naive to realize that Ross could lose his job at any point, and this could change our plans around again. I am excited to see where our faith and reliance takes us.

* Oh yeah, by the way....ITS A BOY!!!!!! A sweet kicky dancy active little boy. I was told I have an anterior placenta so I won't feel the baby very much, but I felt him early on and some days I want him to even settle down a bit because there's too much of a party in my tummy!

Confessions

Sometimes I feel like the least put-together person ever. I can allow myself to spiral into feeling guilty about some of these things and believing that I'm not good enough. Thankfully, I have enough faith in myself to brush off those feelings and know that I'm doing fine- just fine. The expectations I hold myself to aren't fair to me, and the people I think are so much better than me have flaws and struggles of their own that obviously I don't know about. Why don't I know about them? Because my reference point is Facebook- where everyone puts their best face forward. Where people actually post pictures that are, like, 5 years old because they don't like the way they look now (seriously- I saw someone use their high school senior photo as their profile pic.)

It is my belief that working moms (part-time or full) other than me are waking up before their kids and showering, doing hair and make-up, and putting on a cute outfit. Then they wake up their kid(s), get them ready, feed them, take them to day care, get to work on time, work, pick kids up, come home (OR actually attend sporting events or PTA meetings) make dinner, feed kids, go to bed, and do it all over again. I am in awe of these women, and have no idea how they do it.

I hit the snooze button until 7-7:15 even though Maddy wakes up at 7:30. I have to drop her off at the baby sitters by 8:15 and be at work by 8:30. I quickly shower and then walk in to greet my sweet girl (if my husband hasn't already done it). I set her on the bed and she gets to watch 1 episode of Yo Gabba Gabba while I get dressed in scrub pants or whatever still fits these days. I put on face lotion and start the make-up process (aka- masking my splotchy complexion and dark under eye circles). Maddy is so stinking cute that I get distracted and often will sing and dance with her, so I rarely actually put on any makeup before I leave the house. I get her dressed and grab her milk and some dry cereal to snack on in the car(she eats breakfast at the babysitters). I drop her off between 8:05-8:10. From 8:15-8:25 I am often going through the coffee drive through on the way to work and putting on eyeshadow, mascara, and blush while they make my order. I arrive to work 4-7 minutes late with damp hair, or dirty hair pulled back in a pony tail. I eat my breakfast at my desk while I prepare for the day. Depending on how my morning went, I may just now be throwing on some mascara and concealer at my desk and calling it good. Some mornings, I have even been known to brush my teeth in the bathroom just before I greet my first patient.

These days, after work I just come home and lay on the couch while I talk to Maddy about all the toys she brings me. We discuss animals and sounds, letters, etc. Then, if my family is lucky, I make dinner. Otherwise I call Ross and beg him to bring something home. He always does, or offers to make something.

I keep making comments like, "These days...." because I am now 12.5 weeks pregnant with baby #2. I am even more blah and less pulled together"these days" and struggle with it. I don't know where I got my vision of how I'm supposed to be, but I'm trying to figure out if that's realistic for me; or fair for me to expect. I think the reality is that being a mom is not always easy and pretty; working full time, part time, or stay at home. It is my belief that there are separate but equal struggles with all. So how do some women make it look so damn glamorous and even effortless? HOW?!?

In other news: Baby #2 is healthy so far. My nausea is FINALLY starting to fade (it was way worse this time than it was with Madelyn) and some energy is returning. Maddy kisses my belly several times a day; and says "baby" as she pats and rubs it. Not convinced she really gets what's going on, because sometimes she does this while patting my boob, or Ross's belly. We think its a boy- but that's just a hunch.