What Makes Me Smile

This morning I woke up with a headache. And a neckache. And a bad attitude. And as I was feeling especially grumbly because I HAD to get up anyway, I was reminded of an article I read in Family Fun just last night about positive thinking.

The mom who wrote the article explained how she got her 9-year-old son who was prone to complaining and being negative to start thinking and talking more positively. In a nutshell, it started with having him give her one positive statement for every negative one he spoke. What a great idea, thinks I!

So I'm going to give it a try. Here are some negative things I was thinking about this morning. Let's see if I can come up with some positives (shown in purple):

I have a headache. I am, for the most part, in very good health, and do not live in chronic pain.

The weather is cruddy. Spring is just around the corner!

My house is an absolute disaster (and beyond - believe me, I cannot underestimate this statement). I have a big, warm house to live in, which accommodates my family very nicely.

My husband has been gone a lot for work lately. My husband has a great job, which provides for our family very well, and we are blessed for him to have work to go to. Also, he is around a LOT more than most people who work full-time.

That was not difficult at all! I am hoping to remind myself of all of the positive things in my life whenever I start to think negatively or start to complain. There is no such thing as too much gratitude.

In addition to the positive statements I listed, here is something else that made me smile today:

While I was lying in bed trying to will away my headache (since the medicine wasn't helping), I heard the boys chatting over the monitor. I listened closer, and realized that George was "reading" Green Eggs & Ham to Josh. How cute is that?!

And now my baby is beckoning me to play. Another thing to make me smile.

It's a Beautiful Day and...

My kiddos are sick with fever. Bleh. George woke up yesterday with a fever, and was very whiney and lethargic all day, while Joshua seemed even more spastic than normal. And now today they both have fevers. This because it is impossible (for me, anyway) to keep them from sharing things. I turn my head and next thing I know one of them is drinking out of the other's cup. I have been fiercely trying to keep them from touching and kissing the baby. I pray he doesn't get sick now too (or Chris or myself, for that matter).

Now as I type this, George has woken up from his nap in hysterics (like he did yesterday as well), because he is not good at being sick.

And it is the most beautiful day outside. Sunny, warm, a gentle breeze...but we will not be going to the zoo, or the park, or anywhere there might be other children. And we won't be attending church tomorrow. But we will likely go to my parents' house since they are out of town, and at least let the kiddos play in their backyard. If they feel like it.

And just for run, here are some pictures from when they were NOT sick on a nice day.

An unassuming sand box turtle that Chris picked up from someone's curb (one man's trash, right?).

I think I'll just take a peek inside. What's this?! Two peas in a turtle (er, pod). And now there's sand in there. What fun is that.

The Early Bird Gets the Grief

We are a family of late sleepers. At least we used to be. I've always been most grateful to have babies that sleep well. When George & Joshua were babies, they would get up, eat, and go back to sleep until late into the morning. And that worked great for me, as I am not a morning person but a hardcore night owl (case in point - it is now 3:12am). Blake seems to follow that pattern as well.

For about a year or more, we had a consistent get-up time of around 9:00am. Or it would be somewhere between 9:00-9:30. And if they stayed up late or missed a nap, we could sometimes count on a 10:00am wakeup (bliss!), or even later. Then over the past 6 months or so (late into pregnancy for me, of course), we had a shift in the morning rise time. It started being 8:30am. Consistently. For a while. Then it went back to 8:00am. Which was fine with me - 8:00am is a perfectly reasonable time. In fact, it would be my preferred time, because it's not too early and not too late.

Once the baby came home, it seemed like suddenly the wake-up time switched yet again, to 7:30am or so. I started lamenting these changes. What a cruel thing to do! And the fact is that it's just George that is doing all of the getting-up. It's like a switch was turned on (or off), and suddenly he is an early bird that cannot sleep late. Josh could sleep a lot later, if George would let him. In fact, the whole house would sleep later if George didn't get up early.

And Daylight Savings Time has really done a number on us. We went from 8:00pm bedtime (sometimes 8:30) to a 9:30pm bedtime(sometimes 9:00) . And guess what? George still gets up at 7:30am. And now it seems that no matter what time they go to bed he wants to get up that early. And even if they skip a nap, he gets up that early. Granted, he will most likely take a good nap the next day, but he still maintains the consistent 7:30am wake-up time. I think the latest we can get him to sleep (like on the weekends) is 8:30am, if we're very lucky (which is not often). So we strive for an 8:00-8:30pm bedtime whenever possible.

I guess there could be benefits to him being an early riser. When he gets older I can make it one of his chores to make coffee (or breakfast for that matter - dream big!) before I get up. Or he can make sure the rest of us get up on time should we do the habitual snooze button routine. But for now I'm just going to have to start getting myself to bed earlier and try not to deem him the black sheep for his sleeping habits.

Was it Worth it?

So the aftermath of the birthday party was that Chris and I both ended up with migraine headaches. I had a headache yesterday morning when I woke up, but just had to push through to get things done for the party. And despite working doggedly for 2 days straight, I still ended up not doing a lot of things I had originally planned AND we were behind schedule (as usual). And we didn't even have a big party! Lord help us when we start having lots of other kids to invite.

Victoria (my sister-in-law) did all of the decorating, Tim (my brother) grilled all of the food, my parents hosted it at their house, and my mom did the grocery shopping and all of the other food preparation. All I really did was make cakes (and I had help with that too - thanks Melanie!). 5 cakes to be exact. Am I crazy? Yes, probably more than a tad at that. But as I pretty much collapsed into a heap when the party was over, I was talking with my mom about why I went through all of the trouble. And I was asking - was it worth it?

My mom reminded me why I decided to make and decorate cakes in the first place. I have pictures of me as a toddler with homemade decorated birthday cakes, and even though I have no memories of it in my brain, I have looked at those pictures thousands of times and LOVE them. So I do it for the pictures. For posterity. So that my children, when they get older, can say - my mom actually made these cakes. My MOM made them.

Will I continue the trend? I'm not sure. I imagine when they get a bit older I will let them pick the theme and help me decorate the cakes. Or if it all gets to be too much, I'll just order them or something. But for now, I am enjoying the finished product and the looks on the faces of my children (and party guests) when I bring out the cakes. And I would have to say, yes. It was worth it.

Pics to come soon...

Mommy Guilt

Part of the difficulty of being a mom (especially in today's culture, I think) is the guilt. I suppose there are mothers out there who don't have guilt. They are probably doing right by their children: feeding them all wholesome foods, keeping their houses clean and toys disinfected, engaging their minds in stimulating learning, involving them in activities and playdates, never watching TV, etc.

I am not one of those mothers. My house is a disaster. I can't remember the last time I disinfected toys (now would be a good time, as the big boys have colds right now). I don't take them outside every day, even though they need it. I don't have play groups or Gymboree or music lessons. They aren't in swimming lessons (yet, I'm hoping to do this one), we haven't been to story time at the library in several months, and they aren't enrolled in pre-school.

I still consider myself to be in a boot camp of sorts, with the new baby (well, he's not THAT new anymore, but it's my excuse anyway) and two very ambitious toddlers. So I don't have a tremendous amount of guilt about all of the above things that I am currently not doing. I do feel that there are things I do well, and right now I have to pick and choose what is most important.

What I do have a LOT of guilt over is TV. My kids watch WAY too much TV. And not only do they watch too much, but some of the stuff they are watching is really not appropriate for their age (and some of it is probably not great for any kid to watch, to be honest).

I was once again convicted just this morning. I was talking with some MOPS moms at my table, and we were discussing the birthday theme for George & Josh's party on Saturday (it's Spongebob Squarepants) and the TV discussion came up. I was reminded why it is so important to really limit what my kids are allowed to view. That they shouldn't be watching something because it is more entertaining for me. And that my kids are fine with the TV off most of the time. It's just easier to have it on, a lot of times. And that is something I want to change. Good parenting requires doing what is right over what is easy (and good citizenship too, come to think of it). I am guilty of taking the easy route more often than I'd like to admit. So I am going to strive for cutting way back on the amount of TV, and I'm going to try and really use discernment for the content.

I'm not just trying to alleviate my guilt (though that doesn't hurt). I do want what's best for my children. And though what I'm not doing doesn't necessarily have a negative impact, watching too much (and inappropriate) television can really do damage to a young mind. So I'm guilty. And even though I hate to face it, I'm glad God is looking out for my children (by convicting me - ouch).

Just Another Day

Today is Mother's Day. And Tim's (my oldest brother) birthday. We had plans. Plans to go to church, plans to have a family cookout...but sometimes plans don't go through as expected.

There was no breakfast in bed for me. No cards. No presents. No flowers. My kids are sick. No homemade crafts, no cake. There was no church (didn't want to expose the other kids in the nursery). It is cold and rainy - no outside activities for us. And the family BBQ? Postponed (my brother thought a different day might be better, plus my parents are coming back from my grandmother's house a little late, plus my kids have colds). So today is just another day.

But you know what? I have 3 beautiful (albeit extremely demanding) children and a very helpful husband. My husband let me sleep. I mean really sleep. I got up to feed Blake and to pump, and then went back to bed for another 4 hours. That was present enough for me. And I got to go to the movies last night with Melanie, which was a present as well. I am blessed. And I realize that I have a husband who is willing to watch the kids most anytime that I want to do something alone (grocery shopping, errands, and even escaping into the nursery to blog or whatever). I don't need a lot of fanfare over Mother's Day right now (that will come later, when the kids can really help - at least it better!), because we are both in the trenches, and he steps up in every way. There is no better present than that.

So I will now go thank my wonderful husband for giving me the gift of rest and help him out in this wonderfully ordinary day.

Done With Today

I'm so done. Today has been one of "those" days. A mucking around in the deep muddy trenches day. A day when there hasn't been a minute to myself. A day when the big boys have been trying my every nerve and the baby has been miserable with a tummy ache (or something). A day when the word exhaustion doesn't even come close to the level of fatigue I'm feeling. A day when I have disciplined every which way with no real results. Today is still going on, but I am SOOO done. I have pretty much checked out. I am doing some computer therapy while Chris switches between dealing with naughty boys who won't go to sleep (after a day with no nap - overtiredness, yay!) and soothing a baby who won't stop crying. He is soon to be as spent as I.

And we argue on days like this. And I think, how on earth am I to manage? My house is a disaster, I have a million things to do, my kids are driving me nuts, my husband and I are doing useless bickering, and I really just want to sleep for about 3 days straight.

So boo-hoo. Poor me. Now I will go suck it up and move on. I do know that I am blessed, and there are people out there who have much more to deal with. But sometimes I just want to feel sorry for myself. Thanks for listening; have a nice day. Oh, and I'd appreciate any spare prayers.