Love and Loss

Many have asked me, how Rover passed and how Charlotte came to be, so I figured I'll just make a blog about it.  Also, the last time someone asked me about it and I thought I was fine, when I told the events that unfolded, I started to cry again, and I'm quite tired of that whole crying process.

The month of November Rover started vomiting.  He has had gastritis a few times in his life, so I tried switching him to bland foods and giving him some Pepcid AC.   After a week of no improvement I took him to the vet where they did bloodwork and an x-ray.   There we saw a  little bit of a shadow beside his stomach, but as I didn't want to pay for an ultrasound, we decided to try a couple medical approaches.  After 3 weeks of continually getting worse, despite a couple of different approaches, it was deducted that the most likely culprit was a tumor of some kind, and with nothing else to do, I had to put him down. Although up to this point in my life, it was by far the most difficult thing I have had to do, the process was surprisingly peaceful.  Getting to cuddle up with Rover one last time and see him have some peace and comfort was really good for me despite being so incredibly painful.

The rest of that week is kind of a loss to me.  I suppose I grieved as most people grieve.  I went about life, taking care of my family, going to work, and crying in between.  Coming home everyday was extremely painful, I hated that I couldn't stop myself from still glancing for Rover.  Every night my chest would tighten and I would feel as though grief was just sitting on me with such weight that it hurt my entire body.

After crying all week, I had The Walk Through Bethlehem to participate in.  During dress rehearsal I got into a conversation with Michelle who opened up about her grieving process when she lost her dog.  She related to the feeling of not wanting another dog for some time, but explained how with a three year old who really wanted one, they went ahead and adopted a new dog.  She then explained how much healing and love that dog brought them in such a way that made me turn to my husband and plead, "I need a puppy!".   In reality I still believed not only could I not love another dog as I did Rover, I was in no way, shape or form in a period of my life that I could handle a puppy.  I wanted to have a meet and greet with a puppy to see how my emotions/heart would be, yet knew in my mind that while working, and having two toddlers, and being involved in other activities, that I didn't have the time or patience to truly train a puppy.

We went to the Great Plains SPCA on a Saturday morning, when it was super busy with lots of families wanting to meet puppies.  We went into the puppy room and my heart lurched when I saw a Rott/Shepherd little boy puppy who was 8 weeks.  I thought I was in trouble, because it was everything I was looking for in an ideal next dog.  With it being so busy, we had to wait to meet the puppy, so Tyler asked a worker if they had any other young dogs not in that puppy room.  The worker responded "well, the puppies are all in the puppy room, but we have Abby who is just 7 months, who is super sweet in this other dog area if you'd like to meet her"   We had time to spare so agreed.  When I saw her my initial response was "Eh, whatever", she was a border collie mix, and looked like Snoopy which didn't give me the best first impression since Snoopy and I love to hate each other.  Also, she was 'too old' in my mind for ideal training and of course, she was a girl, I didn't want a (excuse my language but no other word for what I was thinking) little bitch.

We went into the dog room to wait to meet her since there was no wait for the adult dogs.  As soon as she came in, she ran to me and curled up in my arms just like Rover did the day I met him.  I immediately had to fight back tears as I met this lover girl.  I looked up at Tyler and simply said, "I love her".   While we were in the room, Vi threw herself at the dog and she stood there and let Vi love her.  Zeke screamed while he was playing and she didn't jump, startle or even bat an eye in response.  She didn't jump on my kids, she was attentive, she cuddled, she was playful, she was just lovely the entire time we were there.

When we put her back and were able to meet the puppy I had waited for in the puppy room, I realized what I expected to happen when I met him is exactly what happened.  He peed all over the place, he jumped all over my kids, nipping them and making them scream; pretty much just acted like a puppy.  Don't get me wrong, he wasn't a bad dog at all, just a playful puppy who needed more work than I was equipped to handle at the time.  But boy was he cute, super cute, just not cute enough to make me insane.

Tyler looked at me and I said, he's cute and all, but I fell in love with that other girl.  He was like, "that's good", and went to the bathroom while I got the kids ready to go.  On our drive home I told him that I knew things were tight, and that we had a few more gifts to buy, but just maybe I would make enough with my last Scentsy order that when I got paid we could see if she was there on Monday and I could go adopt her.  Tyler reminded me we weren't planning on getting a dog, but was compassionate as well and said "yeah, we'll see if she's there Monday".

When we got home, Tyler left to head up to the church to set up for The Walk Through Bethlehem and I got the kids set up and tried to get ready to go as well. After about an hour or so, Tyler came in with both my parents, and Abby (soon to be renamed Charlotte)!  I came to find out that when Tyler went to the 'bathroom' he was actually putting a down payment on my girl to bring her home without me knowing it, and my parents had been discussing wanting to get me a dog for Christmas!

She has been so incredibly amazing to have.  She has helped me mourn, heal and love so much.  Apparently we lucked out and she's housebroken, and overall extremely well behaved.  I've had fun getting to focus energy on further training her and working with her.

I have still been grieving Rover, just the other night I think I surprised Tyler when he turned to see me crying in bed.  Rover was my best buddy for 13 years and his presence is still severely missed...but now I can breathe a little better.

On not being Super mom

I think I pretty much have the best kids in the world.  They're beautiful, fun, adventurous and silly.  One is girly, the other...well....I guess the fact that he likes to be punched in the face is 'manly'.    I know that the fact they are mostly well behaved has been a result of Tyler and I's consistent parenting.   

That being said, there are many times that I am not engaging, entertaining, guiding, or correcting my children.  I think in the social media world it can make it look like some people, myself included, are always doing all these awesome projects with our kids, or at least engaged with them.  On Facebook, I share pictures of my kids at the park, painting, going on trips, playing together and with me.   While we do these things, there is OH so much time where my kids are playing independently.  Today I came home from work, cuddled with my son and did a couple 'I Love You' rituals, then played with him and his sister for awhile.   We built with blocks, read books, danced...and then I said "ok, mommy is done", and let them play on their own.  

Z being on his own reading a book.

Why am I even writing about this?  Because almost every mom I know at some point or another feels guilty about how they are mothering.  We think we should be doing more, teaching them more, loving them more...and you know what?  We're doing just fine.   

I want to tell you what I did after I said 'mommy is done'...I sat down and read for a few minutes, then started this blog.   Another trap to get into: feeling like you should ALWAYS be busy.  There are days when I AM always busy, just because there are things to be done: vacuuming, dishes, dusting, laundry, shopping... we have an impressive list that could go on and on.   I don't feel like doing any of that right now though.   I vacuumed, swept, and did dishes yesterday.   Today, I sit.  

V on her own daydreaming while gazing out the window.

I'm not purposefully doing much of anything besides writing this blog and listening to my kids.  I could probably look up lots of blogs about how to discipline, love, guide, teach, engage, encourage, or even how to sleep my children better.  But today, at least in this moment, I am content...dare I say confident... in my mothering.  My kids are safe.  My kids are loved.  My kids are being independent.

So to any moms out there who might be having a day where you aren't feeling so confident, just remember:  your kids are safe, your kids are loved...you're doing a great job.     

Turning 30

So here it is, the day before I'm turning 30!  I feel like 30 is a pretty big milestone... I mean, I know technically it's just another year, but I had so many expectations about turning 30, that are clearly not true.

1 year old me...I do believe I've accomplished a lot more since my first steps...
but that was a pretty big milestone to follow up!

It's not that I have any fear of growing older, or that I think 30 is anywhere near old.  However, I assumed your 20's were for figuring things out, for growing out of things and coming into adulthood.  Well here I am turning 30, and I haven't grown out of much except the clothes I had before I had kids, and anything I might have figured out is minimized by the realization of how much I really don't know.

I told a friend the other day that I thought by the time I was 30 I'd at least grow out of that 'forgetful' and 'clumsy' thing.   I said, "I guess I assumed I'd just magically become more responsible, less forgetful, and more organized", to which she replied that I'm just going to have to figure something else out for that.

Ok, so whatever, I didn't become magically less forgetful or anything.  I have however, gotten married, and had two kids that I've kept alive.   NOW we're talking responsibility! Pound Sign Boom!  

So I've decided rather than focus on all that magically didn't change before I hit the age that I wrongly assumed would make me a responsible, put together adult.  I'm going to focus on what I did learn in my 20's.

-I learned that marriage is about giving and teamwork.   It's not easy but it's it's the most rewarding work I've done yet.  

-I've learned that trusting God (in a lot of cases to provide- but also overall) is an ACTION, not just something that happens because you grew up Christian and know all the right verses.  Yet to be steadfast in that action, knowing the right verses makes all the difference.   I've had to look past circumstances and what I see, and know that God has great and mighty plans for us. 

Sometimes being in love with Ramen isn't so bad...

-Friendships are about a lot more than having fun with someone, and that you have to be purposeful about the types of people you want in your life.  A true friend speaks the hard truth you need to hear, yet shows grace with your faults and loves you past your shortcomings.  A true friendship brings glory to God.  A true friend is someone who you can pour your heart out to when you just need to vent.  A person who shares adventures, and makes you laugh.  There's a lot more I've learned about friendship, but I'm thankful for how Tyler and I have grown and been blessed with the friendships we have in our lives. 

A few of our friends we are blessed with... I found that mostly I have pictures of my kids...I should work on this.

-I've learned (ok maybe made more aware of and am still learning), it's not all about me.  

-I've learned life seems to work in seasons.  We've had seasons of growth, seasons of trials, seasons of peace... and to appreciate and learn in the season I'm in instead of trying to always get to the next one.

-Apparently, I'm not the only one who doesn't have life figured out...no one else really does either! We all have different experiences, and will up till the end... so I don't have to try to try to be this ideal person.  We gain different wisdom and perspectives and they're all valuable. 

-I have strong opinions, and other people have strong opinions as well.  That's ok, I don't have to try to change peoples minds, it's not worth sacrificing relationships or causing hurt.  I was even wrong one time.  

-Sometimes the right decision is not what I want to do...and I try to do it anyway, even when it seems like doing what's right is actually a terrible idea!  It seems to work out in the end.

-Any preconceived notions I had about being a mom flew out the window when I actually became a mom.  

That's all I got for now.  So I'm turning 30, and that's that.   

Actually my kids woke up, and I just gotta go :)

Confessions of an Extreme Extrovert

So last night I made a Facebook update and mentioned that I should start hashtagging; '#thelifeofanextremeextrovert'.   The problem with that, is I typically just use hashtags as sarcasm, and don't really care to stop using the space bar.

I was in the nap room today...I really don't like being in the nap room, all that time having to sit quietly as the kids are resting, but it can also be a very productive time.  Today in the nap room, I wrote out random thoughts that came to me about my life as an extreme extrovert.  I say extreme, and I believe anyone who knows me would agree, but here's a few thoughts I had on the matter.

This is my only 'bride' photo from my wedding.  It sums me up pretty nicely.  Also, most introverts I know take really nice photos, I love taking lots of silly photos...I think it's fun.

My Life as an Extrovert:

• I've poured my heart out to people that I'm not even sure I trust with it- usually because I can't seem to stop the words from coming.  "Stop mouth!  Stop moving!"  I call it, "word vomiting".
• Sometimes it's hard to sleep at night because the quiet is so overwhelmingly deafening.  I long for rain to lull me to sleep, as my husband has no control over silencing the weather.
• Sometimes people think I'm 'needy'.  I can't really argue because it's kind of true...just don't leave me alone!   Quit calling me needy. 
• I feel guilty about coming across as vain, I truly care deeply for others, and I wish I could shut up for longer periods to truly listen.  But I get too nervous if others don't start talking quickly enough and start talking about myself again.  Kind of like I'm doing right now....
  
• I might have an activity that I'm going to by myself, but if there are other people there, I will have made a friend before I left.  It just happens.  Here is a picture of me with a girl who would look like my BFF...I met her at the beginning of the race, and she was awesome. 
  

• I wish I could hide when something is wrong...but if I'm thinking about it, and am remotely quiet, people start asking 'What's wrong?'...and I of course talk about it....because..
• I process everything externally.  Everything that needs processing in anyway, gets talked to death...it's just how I resolve things in my mind.  Thanks for helping me with that.
• For everything I say...there's hundreds of thoughts bouncing around that I didn't say. 
• When I'm nervous...I talk more...which is the last thing I usually should be doing.
  
• I often lay awake at night regretting things I've said.  Or wondering if I was understood, or if I should be apologizing, or should I try to explain more...? No, no more words are necessary...wait...maybe a few.
• Sometimes being an extrovert is draining, as I don't know when to stop and ret. However, that doesn't mean I want to be alone by any means, but rather with just a smaller group...or just my husband. 
• When I want to 'be alone', I mean, be with my husband...who is an introvert.  When he wants to be alone, he wants to be alone.  It's kind of annoying.
• I don't understand introverts, I love them, and am so thankful to have them as my friends, but I don't understand them.  There, I said it.  I kind of think you're a bunch of weirdos...especially Tyler.

For the Love of Books

I love books...more accurately, I love stories.  I love escaping into another world, connecting with characters and places and emotions so deeply that it makes it difficult to share with people in reality.  I also know, I'm not the only one.  I see things all the time on Facebook about people being 'book nerds'.  I see the links to things like 'problems only book nerds understand'  or  '10 signs you're a book nerd'.  There's quite a few out there, and I see why; books inform us, escape us, give us hope, inspire us, encourage us, give us courage...

What is more puzzling to me, is that there might be people out there who more relate on the side of NOT liking to read.  This seems like an impossibility to me.  My husband told me he was one of these people.  I refused to believe such a thing was possible, and the more I questioned, and made him question, we came to realize, it wasn't so much that he hated to read, but rather, he was taught to hate to read.
There is no such thing as a child who hates to read; there are only children who have not found the right book.—Frank Serafini
Here's my theory: there is no person who innately hates to read...hear me out here.  Let's step away from all the reasons why reading is so valuable, let's step away from all the benefits of reading to children and it's importance in academics or education.
 Instead I want to state a simple belief:  I believe it is part of our make-up to love stories.  (I think that's part of why Jesus taught in parables.)  I have NEVER in my years of child care met a child that didn't love stories.  I haven't met a person who didn't love some form of a story, whether it be through lyrics or a movie or a book.  So how is it that someone wouldn't love books?

Back to my husband- he isn't a fast reader.  His experience of childhood stories turned into assignments, and reading assignments as he entered high school, where he struggled to keep up and admittedly quit before he even started.  Books in turn became something that he 'failed' at.  Once I realized that his dislike for books was rather a dislike for due dates, and assignments, I lovingly urged him (begged him, pleaded with him...) to try reading a fiction by Ted Dekker for fun.   He loved it.  He loved it, because he loved the story, because we all love stories.

I understand that some people might have various reasons that reading itself might be a struggle (dyslexia I would imagine would be a bit of a annoyance for reading) yet all in all, I cannot believe that a person can truly dislike books.
Watch grown ups in the childrens section of the book store.  You can tell when they see a book they loved from their childhood.  We all have those sentimental books that we cherished, and the fun part about it, is that we ALL have books we love.
So sure, there's a bunch of book nerds out there, to me, this is nothing extraordinary.  I'm more interested in if there is truly someone out there who doesn't love stories?  I cannot imagine that there is.

Ezekiel's First Year

This will probably be a long blog.  Mostly because I plan on just copying and pasting what Tyler wrote about Ezekiel's name 5 days after he was born.

First, I have to say a few things about this boy of mine.

He is, AWESOME.  He makes me laugh everyday, although most of the time I really shouldn't be laughing.  His sheer delight in being ornery is just...amusing.

The thing is, I've always had a thing for rascally boys...I just love them.  I've loved the rascally boys that come through my preschool class, then I married a rascally boy, and now God gave me a rascally boy.  I don't know what it is about them...they're awfully exhausting, and require great deals of patience, consistency and discipline...but they are just so endearing!

He is always busy.   Vi was an observer, so she was pretty content with things, usually just looking at everything around her.  Zeke is an explorer, an adventurer, a conqueror.   He just keeps at it... I have to admire his stamina and stubbornness.  He has fallen down the stairs almost every time we go to my friend Stephanie's house, but yet, he goes for them over and over again.   When I see him crawling towards the stairs (or any other place he knows he shouldn't go, like into the bathrooms), I yell "Hey! Zeke!" to which he smiles that ornery smile at me, and proceeds to power crawl towards the danger.

He is quick to smile, and I am a sucker for it.

He is going to grow into an amazingly awesome man one day.  Until then, here's something my husband wrote:

Sasha and I have many responses on the name of our son, mostly due to the middle name of course. Most people either love it or hate it. His first name is obviously a strong sounding name "The name of a Man's Man", this is probably due to the Z and the K in one name. Most people also relate his name to other people; Ezekiel= crazy prophet who saw some crazy things, yet talked to God all the time. Gambit= Xmen... Done. With that most people focus in on the "Gambit" part and either think it's "super cool" or hipster or stupid. The name started as a joke because we liked the name Ezekiel and we couldn't find anything that could stand with it as a middle name. Sasha likes to throw random names/things/sounds out there with names and when she threw Gambit out there as a joke, we both realized...wait, we actually like that.

  So, of course we told some people and of course some people forbid us to name our sun after a Xmen character. That's is when a joke turned into being stubborn and defiant. The longer we held to our guns the closer it got to d-day(delivery) and we thought “we should maybe be a bit more intentional about this name thing”. That is what I want to talk about. I want to explain that my sons name is awesome because of what it means. How what started as a joke turned into a name with purpose, intent and a calling on his life.

Ezekiel: God will strengthen

Gambit: A calculated risk

In life you cannot avoid risk. You cannot stop and watch as things change around you and expect to have any sort of success in anything. These days are not getting less risky, it is not getting easier to be a strong christian successful male. Success, how I see it, is gaged by the ability to live with risk. You cannot get married without risk, you cannot have kids without risk, you cannot have a job paying above minimum wage without risk. Success is not gaged by the number attached to you bank account but by the quantity or quality of lives you have changed. 

I love his expressions.

 Back to the point. To be a man is to take risks. We jump off couches as soon as we can walk, and the height at which we jump only gets greater as we grow up. We ask out the girl, the girl who is way out of our league, then we ask her dad to marry her. The nature of the gender is to conquer and you cannot do that without risk. And to be successful at being a male you have to know how high you can jump from. This has stayed true for all of my 26 years of life and I have heard nothing about change in the future.

 The charge that I am putting on the name of my son is that he does this all while being “strengthened by God”. This is The God of David, a punk kid who killed a giant with a rock. This is The God of Moses, who couldn’t speak right but went in front of the most powerful man in the world and said “let my people go” and got what he wanted. This is The God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego,  who wouldn’t bow down to an huge golden idol then walked with Jesus in a fiery furnace and lived. These men took calculated risks, but the calculation is not one of this world. It’s not something that can be proven by science or math. The variable in these equations is that these men were strengthened by God. 

So when I say the name Ezekiel Gambit I am saying the name of a man that calculates risk on a level much bigger than himself. He calculates risk based on the strength that he has been given from The God that has loved him before I did.

Happy First birthday Ezekiel!

On being dumb

I've been noticing lately how incredibly hard it has become to do normal day to day tasks.  I often wonder, is this the new me?  Or one day, when these children are less dependant on me, will my brains return to semi-functioning?  I can't seem to remember any basic task unless it is written down ON my hand, put on my calendar and put in my phone WITH an alarm, and only then I might remember to accomplish this said task...maybe.

I keep making promises and breaking them.  It makes me feel like a jerk, but I mean, they're really very simple things- to bring something, to mail something, to get something from the store, to forward an email, to relay a message.  If I told you I would do something of the sort, I have more than likely made a liar of myself.   So let me just tell you now, I am sorry, I will have the best intentions, but it more than likely won't happen.

I mean, both these kids are both SO incapable of doing hardly anything themselves.  Vi is getting there, but she is SLOW as molasses.  And even after you clothe them, and clean them and give them some form of entertainment, you can't actually do anything else.  They know if  you do.  Try to cook or clean?  NO, forget it, they will go straight for the one thing they can find to try to kill themselves.  Zeke is at the fun age where he has developed absurdly fast mobility with zero understanding of cause and effect or basic comprehension of the world around him.  At least once a day I feel the floor vibrate with the thud of his head hitting the floor.

Climbing on his sisters bed, which he fell off of the day before and hit his head. 

While trying to make dinner tonight, I set up a play tent for Vi, and got a few toys out for Zeke.  Zeke was convinced I was just trying to distract him from the fact that I must be trying to starve him to death, and insteads latches himself to my leg bawling hysterically.  Soon after Vi comes in saying, "Look! Hello Kitty is a shephard!" and somehow found a blue wrapper off of a pad and stuck it on the head of her doll.   .........

That was just one meal, nevermind that they eat every 3 hours in the day.   I swear everytime I blink it's time to feed them again... why do they have to eat so freaking much?  I know half of the time it's just snacks and bottles, but I have to remember to do it.

I made him grilled parmesan chicken with rice and he acted disgusted.  I quit cooking.   

I am amazed at Zeke's power crawl to the bathroom if ever we forget to close the door.  I'm amazed at Vi's ability to climb up in my lap and into my face no matter where I am at.  They're amazing, and believe me I appreciate that.

Don't even get me started on the dogs on top of everything else.

So all that to say, here's to hoping that one day my brain returns to halfway functioning.

Vi turning 3

It's that time of year again...

The week before Vi's birthday...and she is turning 3!

I have a feeling that I'll say this every year...but...whoa.

Last year was looking back and realizing that my baby was now a toddler.  This year she became more into her own self. We are all starting to see more of who she is becoming.  She's smart, she's funny, she's an explorer, she's a princess, she's a daydreamer, she's a conqueror, and an artist.

funny girl

day dreamer

Conqueror

artist

Explorer

This year was a year of Genevieve exploring more of the world around her, and watching and loving her responses of awe, or of sheer joy, of experiencing fear, and overcoming it (or not in cases of say...the vacuum).  A year of questions.  She started school this year, and as she is exploring the world around her, her teachers can attest to how this girl is just full of SO many questions.  Who, What, Where, When, How...and most often...WHY?

She is strong-willed, a trait that often gets her in trouble, but the trait of a strong woman and leader in the making.  Yet, she's also sensitive, and although at times a crying toddler can get old, I also see the strength of a tender heart showing through.

Battle of the wills- also the same night she tried to outsmart me to get up from the dinner table. 

Sensitive...and tender hearted.

She wants to be kind and gentle, a trait I've most enjoyed seeing with her buddy from school and her little brother.  Those are the two traits she's decided she wants to possess - like Cinderella.  She also claims to be humble,(also from Cinderella) but I believe we might still be working on that one. Her wit is charming and leaves most people in laughter.  She brings joy to almost everyone she meets, but most of all to us.

 I don't know how to really wrap this up, Vi is turning 3 (ok, so I did this a little more than a week early, but next weekend is crazy busy!) and it's amazing, crazy, and going entirely too fast.   The End.

Coming soon...Zeke turning 1...