Hot Mess Anonymous

Hi, my name is Kara, and I'm kind of a mess. I'd like to say "Hot mess" but seeing as I've only styled my hair once in the past few weeks that takes "hot" right off the table.

I was talking to a friend on mine and she said "I can tell you're having a rough time when you start blogging less." I laughed because it's true. I would love to fit it in more, especially since writing is therapeutic, but when things are all wonky I just can't get to it.

Today I was on a mission. I had a meeting this morning and I prepared my thoughts and talking points. I was going to prove that despite being a wee bit of a mess, I still had my crap together. I was ready to go. But towards the end of the meeting my kids started melting down right as I was getting to my "talking points" and I tried, unsuccessfully, to not be frustrated by the situation and still make sure that the things I needed to cover were being covered. At one point Grace wanted to be on my lap but I was attempting to throw something together really quick and needed her off my lap, so I stood her next to me and she started to cry. Someone was already holding Christian for me because he woke up from his nap and wanted to be held. The stuff I was trying to cover in the meeting seemed all jumbled and I seemed, still, to be dropping the ball. Another person came and picked up Grace and spoke sweetly and lovingly to her. As I looked up I took in the moment and felt everything seep in. Both my children were being held and loved on by other people and I sat there frustrated and overwhelmed. I knew everyone saw it too. And whether or not they were thinking it, I felt like they were pitying me. My shoulders slumped. It's one thing to be a mess, but to have other people notice it and confirm it makes it even worse. I then looked at the time on my phone and suddenly realized that I was already 15 minutes late to a lunch appointment. After the meeting ended everyone helped me out to my car, because despite coming to the meeting with my crap together, I left with everything a mess. I shut the door and sat in my car and wanted to cry. The only thing preventing me from doing so was my lunch appointment that I was going to be 45 minutes late for.

I just felt stupid. The little things were causing me to trip and fall on my face, not even a big stumbling block, but a series of little pebbles strewn all over the ground causing me to slip and stumble and, ultimately, fall on my face. People were climbing trials the size of mountains and I couldn't even reach the summit of a pile of pebbles.

The past three and a half months have been filled with some exciting and beautiful moments but it has also been filled with some seriously humbling moments. On one such moment I snapped a picture. For some reason I wanted to remember this moment, perhaps as a reminder that life isn't always rainbows and unicorns. Who knows.

I'm pretty sure my mom and sisters are just going to stop answering their phones when they see that I'm calling. I've had many a conversation and pep-talk from them along with reminders that I'd really miss Grace if I shipped her to her grandparents house.

I kept waiting for the right moment to talk about my mess status. You know, the moment where it clicks and it all makes sense and you think "Oh, with perspective I totally understand this." But where is the fun in that? Am I right?

It's hard growing up and putting my "big kid" pants on and tackling the world. I'm realizing quickly that I can't be in control of everything, and I can't expect everyday to be a certain way. I'm learning to let the insignificant stuff go and trying to do one thing at a time because I can't do it all. There is a new normal out there and I fighting to find it.

So if you see me looking like a candidate for What Not to Wear whilst toting a screaming baby and chasing a toddler on the run, don't be surprised. It's how I roll, baby! Shoot me and air five because hot mess status is so in right now.

The Art of Fort Making

Aaron's first semester of Business school seems to be kicking our trash to the curb. So when he is home, and not studying, we soak him up like a sponge.

On Saturday night, when I was cleaning up, I heard quite a ruckus coming from Grace's room so I went to see what was going on. Her sound machine was turned on as loud as it could go on the "Wind sounds" setting. On the other side of the room a fort had been built between the two beds with blankets and Aaron and Grace were inside, giddy as can be, seeking shelter from the "storm." I couldn't help but laugh as Grace exclaimed, "Oh my gosh Dad! Get in, get in!! It's raining!"

They paused briefly during their adventure to let me snap a picture.

 And then promptly shut the blankets as Grace giggled and talked to Aaron all about her cave

Eventually I was told that my not being in the fort was putting me at risk, due to the storm, so I was urged to join in on the fun.

And it was just what we girls needed. An adventure with Dad, protecting us from the storm and laughing the whole way through it. Grace's first fort building experience sure was a good one.

Grace and Lab Work

I mentioned before that Grace turned 3 at the beginning of September. This girl has personality oozing out her eyeballs. An independent firecracker that wants to do things "All herself." Buckling her carseat, going to the bathroom, putting her clothes and shoes on. She digs the little responsibilities. It's hard for me sometimes to let go of things sometimes but she more than steps up to the plate. She is polite as all get out, throwing "please" and "thank-you" out there without prompting. She gets ecstatic over little things (like seeing pumpkins) and with the same passion and flair, gets upset about little things too (like when I forget to put a bow in her hair during nap-time). And, boy oh boy, can this girl talk your ear right off. Her stories are a combination of things she remembers and plot lines from shows that she has watched. Her subjects and story lines bounce around all over the place, but they make sense to her and she expresses herself in such a way that even if I don't know what is going on, I'm totally buying it.

I love this girl. She has more energy sometimes than I have patience, but we work it out. I can't get enough of her cheek kisses, and song singing, and her "Mmm Mom this is delicious!" phrases. She knows all of the words to her favorite song John Denver's "For Baby" and sings it to Christian when he starts to cry. I melt into a puddle every time I see her sing to him. 

She recently has fallen in love with the concept of going to the Doctor. Toward the end of my pregnancy, when I was having weekly appointments, she loved coming to the Doctor's office with me. She really liked my doctor and it was then when she change her mind from "Doctors are scary" to "Doctors are fun." When she gets a little bump or scratch she says, "I need to go to the doctor to check it."

That is, until her 3 year old well check up.

After a pretty standard appointment, I talked to my doctor about a few things and then she (my doctor) requested that I take Grace to get some lab work done. I packed up out little crew and we headed to the lab. I prepped myself, knowing that this wasn't going to be a positive experience for Grace. After a brief wait we were taken into the back. Grace wasn't phased by anything. She had never been in a lab before, this was all new territory, new scenes to behold. My nerves were all over the place.

We finally got situated in the chair. I sat down holding Grace on my lap with my arms across her chest. They rubber banded her arm and made the first poke. To my complete shock, Grace barely reacted to it. She pulled her arm back a bit, and calmly said, "Ow, that hurts me." She watched curiously and I sat there completely dumbfounded. Had they gotten the vein and vials of blood needed, it would have been the least traumatic lab experience ever. But, it didn't work out that way. When Grace barely flinched after the initial prick of the needle, the nurse lost the vein. So she went fishing for it. The mere thought makes my skin crawl. She was moving the needle around in Grace's arm and Grace started to say "Ow, ow, ow!" Each "Ow" getting louder and higher until Grace realized that she wanted nothing to do with this process and she started to fight and scream. Thankfully they were able to get 3 of the 5 vials of blood but they still needed 2 more. The nurse looked up at me and said, "We need to switch arms."

I calmly thought to myself, "Okay, we can get through this one more time and then we will be done." I calmly talked to Grace who was more than opposed to having the needle stuck in her other arm, "No Mommy, I don't want it. It hurts me." The nurse directed me to hold her a certain way and to hold tighter. I did my best to follow her instructions and hold Grace's arm as still as possible. Round two was another complete failure. The nurse missed the vein as Grace wiggled and writhed and screamed and cried. And then the nurse fished for the vein for a few minutes. Grace was starting to become hysterical.  Now the nurses (there were two now) wanted to go back to the original arm and try again. We only needed two vials. Round three was the same. Missed vein, minutes worth of fishing the needle around. The composed wall I had built up was starting to crack. Grace had screamed and cried so hard she was doing the shaking gasps that come after crying hard. "No...Mommy...I...don't want... to... do it....again." I took her to the bathroom and reminded her of all the promises I had made, "If you continue to be brave we'll get ice cream and Mickey Donalds and watch a show." At that point I was willing to giver her anything for what she was going through. When I started to walk her back to the chair, for the forth round of needle-fest 2012, she wouldn't go near it and pushed against my legs. We eventually got back into the chair. I wrapped both of my legs around her legs, wrapped my arms tightly around her arms and chest and other arm, and I clamped my chin down on her shoulder.

Round 4 was the worst. She screamed blood curdling screams and fought my grip so hard she was dripping sweat. My arms were shaking from trying to hold her down, and then I broke. Warm tears flowed freely down my cheeks and soaked Grace's shoulder. Her cries and screams were too much for me to handle. I was breaking down, wanting nothing more than to run like heck and hug, love, and pamper Grace until she healed mentally, emotionally, and physically, from this awful awful experience. But I sat there and held her down and cried and groaned as my muscles started to give from the fight my tiny three year old was putting up. Then finally finally, they got those two stupid vials of blood and we could go. 30 minutes after the original poke. 4 pokes total, 4 times fishing for the vein. We walked out into the waiting room tear stained and completely drained and the few children in the waiting room looked at us in horror.

I spent the rest of the day at Grace's beck and call. Whatever she wanted she got. Ice cream-check. Mickey Donalds-check. Shows-check. My Mama bear instincts were fierce and my baby needed time to heal- or maybe I needed time to heal. Whatever it was I cleared our day from anything that wasn't comforting for my girl and I would bite off the head of anything that tried to change that.

 You can just see the sweat on her forehead and the weary look in her eyes. It kills me.

And just like that, lab work will never go smoothly again.

CCB at 3 months

Heavens to Betsy, I just love this boy

At 3 months this ball of chunkiness did not have a formal doctor's appointment, so there are no measurements, and thankfully no shots this time around.

I can't get enough of this wee little man. I'm constantly kissing on those cheeks and nuzzling those rolls of his. His sticky-out-ears are perfect for munching and whispering words like "Hello handsome." Grace seems to have the same Christian related addiction that we all do. With a smile like that, how could you not?

The older he gets the more he has developed his own "look." His fair skin tone, light eyes, and light hair lead him to look a lot more like his Dad, but his nose is exactly like Grace's so he looks a little like her too. I'm sure as the days and weeks continue to fly by he'll really come into his own and truly have his own look.

Christian is developing his own personality as well, and there is one thing in particular that he loves: his schedule. I wasn't very rigid with sleep training Christian like I was with Grace. It was all loosey goosey. Around 5 weeks I started being more on the ball with an Eat, Wake, Sleep cycle every three hours. But, with the second baby, I figured that he would learn to be a lot more go with the flow and to be honest I was dreading (and putting off) sleep training him. I carted him around everywhere figuring that he would sleep when and where he wanted. Boy was I wrong. If I was out of the house and messed with his schedule, he was an absolute wreck. But, if I was at home sticking to his schedule like a military drill sergeant he was as happy as can be. I call this a "frustrating blessing." It's a blessing because he is very predictable. I know that an hour and a half after he wakes up, he wants to go back to bed, and an he will nap for an hour and a half and almost on the dot he will wake up wanting to eat. In between sleeping and eating he is happy and content. The frustrating part is, that if we are out he rarely sleeps in his carseat, he wants his bed, his blanket nuzzled in his face and he wants nothing else. Needless to say, we spend a lot of time at home.

He loves having a blanket in his face. As in, you see a picture with a big red X across it saying "Do not let your child do this," that is how he wants his blanket, all up in his grill. When I figured out the blanket trick I spent many a nap-time panicking and running in to check on him and make sure the airway I had created was still in tact. Since then we have used Grace's spare blanket that is crocheted causing there are lots of holes and breathing airways available. It has worked marvelously.

Homeboy loves my Dad. I'm not sure what is it, perhaps their co-membership in the Chrome Dome Trio, but the best smiles from Christian always came when my Dad would be holding him. Otherwise he is a hard egg to crack, not offering smiles to just anyone.

Nursing has been a battle. A battle in which I have cried many a time. I think he might have an intolerance to a milk protein, so I have started to cut out dairy to see if that helps. Or he just takes in too much air, or my let-down is too hard. Regardless, he fusses and cries and I burp and burp and burp him endlessly. Feeding him for 45 minutes to and hour is not a shocking thing around these parts. I have relied a lot on pumping and bottle feeding but I think that is making the nursing worse so I have tried to cut back. I'm continuing to power through hoping that it will get better, but my sanity is a little bit on the fence. Only time will tell.

Finally, I was at the park with some girlfriends and their kids today and I posed the question, "Did you think, when you learned Christian's name, that I had a theme going with my kids' names?" About 75% of the girls laughed and said that they did think I had a theme going, a nice little religious theme with the names of my kids. That gave me a good laugh too. When we decided on Christian's name, I remember telling Aaron, "The only negative about Christian's name is that with Grace it seems a little religious." Aaron responded back that he didn't think it mattered or that people would notice, and to be honest I didn't think about it again. It wasn't until after he was born and people would ask me "What are your kids names?" that I realized how thematic and religious sounding their names were together. I can honestly say that neither of their names were given to them for religious reasons, we just both liked the names in and of themselves. However, combined it seemed like we had a vibe going in our family. I joked with my girlfriends that we should name the next one "Testimony" or "Reverence" just for kicks. The funny thing is that when I was pregnant, and before we found out it was a boy, I liked the name Hope, and one of Aaron's all time favorite names is Faith. There is something in the water we're drinking with these names. At this point, although both names are beautiful, I don't think we'll be using them. So, in case you were wondering, there is no theme intended with the names of our children, it is purely coincidental. Oddly coincidental, but still coincidental. (Should I say coincidental one more time?)

So those are the facts of CCB at 3 months. We love him to pieces.

The Three Boys

Since 2010 the grandkids on my side of the family have been 5 girls and 1 boy. Poor Taylor was heavily outnumbered and often found himself being roped into all of the girls favorite activities. He was such a good sport about it though. Carly and Brooklyn came before Taylor, and after him came Emma, Grace, and Lily.

That is until the summer of 2012.

Let me give you a little background. In October I found out that I was pregnant. The following Christmas I found out that my sister Ashby was also pregnant, due 5 weeks after me, and that my sister-in-law Ashley was pregnant as well, due 7 weeks after me. Three out of the four kids in my family were going to have new little ones, it was going to be the summer of babies.

We group-texted belly progress shots and shared pregnancy woes, and we even joked "In this family of girls what if we all had boys?"

And wouldn't you know, five months later, three sonograms revealed that the Summer of Babies would now be the Summer of Boys. Taylor was getting three new boy cousins.

July and August proved to be an incredible time as we welcomed Christian Clark, Blake Ryan, and William Timothy. My Mom was, in essence, a full-time professional traveling Grandma. She only had a few days of rest in-between her duties.

I really enjoyed being pregnant with my sister and sister-in-law and it will be fun to watch the boys grow up. Although they are only weeks apart, they all reside in different states. The first time these boys get together will be a fun and interesting experience. (L to R: Christian, Blake, Will)

We couldn't have planned it better if we tried. Next time a summer of girls?

October 1st

I love the month of October. Next to Christmas, Halloween is my favorite holiday. It marks the beginning of holiday season and gets the festive bandwagon chugging along. It Texas October is a turning point, where the suffocating heat starts to become lovely and bearable and people are finally starting to live outside again.

Today we made sure to kick our October celebrations into high gear. Grace and I started our ABCs of Halloween. A is for Apple Cider. 

I dressed the kiddos in some festive shirts (unfortunately Grace was napping while the picture taking commenced).

For dinner it was soup or bust. Nothing says fall festiveness quite like a warm bowl of Minestrone soup, am I right?

Once the kids were in bed I finished decorating the mantel. (One day I will use my regular camera again....one day)

I can't wait for the temperatures to drop and the Halloween parties to begin. Hello fall, I hope you're here to stay.

CCB at 2 Months

Christian is two days away from hitting his 3 month mark, so this post is a little past due, but better late then never, right?

Weight: 12 lbs 10 oz- 82%

Height: 24 inches- 90%

This appointment was the dreaded shots appointment. Three shots and oral vaccination. The nurses took Grace out of the room and I parked myself near Christian's head with his pacifier at the ready. From the first shot he screamed desperately and franctically. I did my best to soothe him while simultaneously tried to prevent myself from bursting into tears. I thought having already done the shot thing with Grace that the second time around I would be able to handle it better. Wrong-o. It was just as hard the second time around

We spent the rest of the day snuggling and taking it easy.

There are a million things bouncing around in my brain right now so I can't really think of a lot of the specifics that happened between months 1 and 2. Around 6 weeks he smiled for the first time. It was hard to capture those smiles but when I did it was so worth the ache I felt in my cheeks from smiling trying to get him to smile.

Around 6 weeks he also slept through the night for the first time. Meaning he went to bed at 8:30pm, I woke him up to feed him at 11pm and he slept until 6:30am. I woke up feeling like a brand new woman. He usually sleeps with this pattern, but it is definitely not flawless or perfectly consistent.

Grace is still a huge fan of her brother and, unfortunately for Christian, loves to be up in his face every opportunity she gets.

I'm sure there are things that I am missing, but I will have better updates in a few days when CCB hits 3 months.