Showing posts with label Love Him. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love Him. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The Quick Fix.

First of all, thank you for all of the travel recommendations! I pooled your ideas together and came up with some things that will hopefully aid in our journey. I went to Target this morning and attempted to snatch up some goodies from their dollar aisle ... can I just say, running around with the three tots is a bit of a challenge. It was hilarious to see me literally throwing stickers, sketch pads, magnets and Slinkies into my cart while zooming through the aisles. Speed is key, in my opinion, and wow, we were fast today!

So. Thank you. I'll let y'all know how it goes.

Secondly.


Cub walked up to me today with my husband's broken helicopter and asked what happened to it. Before I proceed--does anyone else have a husband who owns a similar toy? The kind you see in the mall? Anyway. My husband is a gadget guy and hence, the helicopter. I've gone to friends' houses and laughed when I see a similar helicopter on the shelf ... there must be some kind of mini-helicopter movement afoot. Anyway. So, when Cub asked how it had been broken, I told him it had crashed and the blade fell off. He then sighed and muttered, "Well, I guess we need a new one."

I cocked my head and told him that no, we just needed to fix the old one.

And he looked at me kind of funny and asked, "Why don't we just get a new one?"

I saw a Pinterest picture the other day that showed an old man and a woman (probably a stock photo) and it wrote that their marriage had lasted so long because they were married in a time that when something was broken, you fixed it, you didn't throw it away. And as I looked in my son's blue eyes, I couldn't help but wonder if we've done a good job showing him that truth.

This day of technology is a tricky one because it is often true that when a phone, tablet, or computer breaks, it's usually only slightly more expensive to completely replace it with a nicer, newer model than to fix the broken older model. There isn't anything wrong with that, per se, if the device is something useful to you. But I'm realizing more that the speed of technology is causing most of us to embrace an "I need it now" mentality. My diapers.com orders come the day after I order them. I can transfer money into my bank account with my phone while sitting in the drive-thru at Starbucks. Netflix gives us instant movies and shows, and Pandora gives us whatever music we want based on the genre we like. Now, now, now.

And yet we kneel in front of our kids, gently grasp their shoulders, look in their eyes and tell them they need to be patient. To wait for the things they want.

It is blatantly contrary to the world we live in. The world of NOW. How do we stand firm when the culture of immediate satisfaction pushes against us?

It's something I struggle with. Teaching our children to wait. It means we have to show that we can wait ourselves, which, for me anyway, can be hard. "I want it NOW!" screams Veruca on Willy Wonka. I hear you, girlfriend.

But maybe it's as simple as fixing a broken helicopter...even if it's tempting to replace it. That when those opportunities arise, we should take them. Because really, easy-to-replace technology is one of the few things in life that's easy to replace. Friendships and relationships cannot be replaced. They have to be fixed in order to work. And what a weighty responsibility it is to show our kids how to do that.

My husband and I celebrated our seven year anniversary today. Every year I understand more how awesome it is to celebrate marriage.

Because it gets harder.

The kids take time. The job takes time. The balancing act of mother and wife gets tricky as the kids multiply and our time is compromised. It takes work, and by that, I mean it takes WORK. We really have to work at it to make it work. I love my husband more with each year, but it's because we work to make it happen and I love him all the more for it--it's really amazing. The best things in life, in one way or another, require constant work. Or, so to say, constant fixing.

I hope I can figure out how to show that to my kids.

Have a lovely day, friends.


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Even Bathroom Breaks Are Accompanied By Little Hands Knocking.

I sneak in a quick shower before the kiddos are up.

The breakfast show gets up and running and both are fed. I call the doctor because Naomi is congested and hoarse.

Help with shoes and boots and dressing and diapers and pottying and etc.

Loading in the van. Buckling, adjusting, toy-distributing. Sippy cups, check.

Trip to the grocery store.

Trip to the doctor. Just a cold.

Drive-thru lunch.

Naomi falls asleep in the car and gets put down at home.

Cub and I eat lunch and play a game.

Cub goes down for a nap.

I organize our pantries and chop the peppers and chicken for fajitas for dinner.

I sit down on the couch and Naomi promptly wakes up.

I feed Naomi lunch.

I attempt to make pumpkin spice muffins while Mouse plays at my feet.

The muffins are an epic fail and all I have to show for them is a pile of dishes.

Cub wakes up.

I put both kids in shoes, grab some paperwork, head out the door.

More loading, buckling, adjusting, toy-distributing. Sippy cups, check.

I drop paperwork off, run to Target.

Zoom through Target with a brief pause to check out the Christmas trees with a wide-eyed Cub.

Come home, unload Target purchases, walk to the end of our loooong driveway to retrieve our huge trash can and roll it back. In the rain.

I let the chickens out, collect eggs, and head inside to clean dishes from the muffins.

Dishes get done, time to start dinner.

I start dinner while two hungry kiddos observe and occasionally beg.

We sit down to dinner and my legs ache from not sitting for a long time.

Prayer, chatting, nudging to take more bites. Crumbs on the floor, on the table, on the Mouse.

Dadda comes home as we finish up.

I run and give him the biggest hug and tell him I'm so glad he's home.

While he eats dinner, Naomi bonks her head and comes running to me for comfort.

She cries so hard she throws up on me.

I change her and myself.

I load the dishwasher and wash the remaining dinner dishes by hand.

My husband puts her to bed as I pick up a few wayward toys.

All with a 30-Week pregnant-for-the-third-time-in-three-years belly. My body is beside itself.

My husband is now playing with Cub while I sit down for ten minutes by myself to type this post.

One word to describe motherhood?

Constant.

The good, the bad, the busy.

Have a lovely day.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Vomiting Makes The Heart Grow Fonder.


I think it's safe to say that any sort of stomach bug is my least favorite sort of bug. I had heard of such a bug floating around our area and while I crossed my fingers and took my vitamins and hoped that perhaps it would skip over us, my efforts were futile. Saturday night, Mouse threw up six times in an hour and a half, once Sunday night, and then we all got it Monday night. "It" turned out to be a horribly painful bug, full of stomach cramping and subsequent loss of stomach content. Both my husband and I agreed that this was the worst sickness we'd had in a while, as we laid on the floor curled up in the fetal position, moaning and pounding the floor with our fists.

Yeah, it was that bad.

Thankfully, it only lasted for a few hours with the kids. It lasted for eight hours for my husband and I, and finally after midnight we were able to hold down Gatorade (it never tasted so good). By the next morning, we were at least functioning, and I took advantage of this energy burst to go into psycho-cleaning mode. It seems to me that the stomach bug spreads germs in the worst way and I was determined to nix every last trace of illness in our house. I strapped on a mask and yellow gloves, and after removing the shower curtain, rug, and towels (all of which went in the wash for a spin in the "sanitize" cycle) in our guest bath (where we camped out most of the night), I bleached the entire bathroom. On my hands and knees, scrubbing. GAH. It was awful and felt wonderful. Now, at the end of the day, all of the sheets and comforters have been washed, too. Phew.

While my husband and I tag-teamed caring for the kids and took turns throwing up between hand-offs, it made me appreciate him all the more. He is so sensitive and sweet to the kids and this was especially true last night as he consoled them and held them and loved on them while they were sick. At one point he reached over to me and said, "I feel like death. I can't even imagine how hard this is for you being pregnant. You're amazing." I managed a smile in the midst of a really horrible night.

Now, we are back in the land of the living. Kind of. We're all still feeling tired and weak, but our stomachs are better and the house is sparkling. I'm glad that episode is over.

Have a lovely day.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

If This Never Happens To You, I'll Go Ahead And Bury My Head In The Sand.

The other day I decided to make some cinnamon rolls for my husband. He had eaten some at the party the previous night that made him swoon, so I figured I would try to replicate the awesomeness so he could have some sweets to take to work.

I started in the evening and about halfway through, I realized this was going to be a rather lengthy endeavor. The kids were getting restless and cranky and were pulling on my legs as I rolled out the dough. My husband and I got them to bed and I returned to the kitchen to finish the rolls. I can't pintpoint exactly the moment of epic failure, but between too much butter, a misread extract, and not enough dough, I found myself up to my armpits in what I thought was perhaps an unsalvageable mess. But, I forced through and my determination resulted in three pans of cinnamon rolls. Fresh out of the oven, they tasted pretty good. At least, I thought so.

My husband tried one and nodded and said it was okay.

That's it.

My hours of slaving for a nod of the head and a "it's okay".

I'm not sure what snapped in my head, perhaps a feeling of underappreciation mixed with exhaustion (and, let's not forget, pregnancy hormones), but I gave him a glare and with much dramatic huffing and flailing of arms, I stormed to the bedroom and shut the door.

A few moments later he cracked it open and asked if I was okay.

And then the crying started.

The ugly crying. The heaving. I can't remember the following conversation verbatim, but here's the basic gist of it:

"YOU DON'T LIKE MY CINNAMON ROLLS!"

"I didn't say that!"

"I KNOW YOU DIDN'T LIKE THEM! I MESSED THEM UP!"

(Snort, snort, sniffle.)

"It's fine! They weren't bad!"

"'WEREN'T BAD'?? THAT MEANS YOU HATED THEM!"

"KATIE. The cinnamon rolls are fine! I appreciate you making them!"

"THE KITCHEN IS A MESS AND IT'S LATE AND I DON'T WANT TO CLEAN IT!"

"Uh, okay. Don't clean it then!"

"I'M GONNA HAVE THREE KIDS!!"

(Pause.)

"Um, what?"

"WE'RE GONNA HAVE THREE KIDS!! HOW IN THE WORLD CAN I HANDLE THREE KIDS?!"

"I thought we were talking about cinnamon rolls."

"I DON'T THINK I CAN DO IT! I DON'T THINK I CAN BE A GOOD MOM TO THREE LITTLE KIDS!"

"Uh, Katie?"

"I DRIVE A MINIVAN!!"

"Oh boy."

"I'M GOING TO HAVE THREE KIDS AND I DRIVE A MINIVAN! WHO AM I?! I CAN'T EVEN MAKE CINNAMON ROLLS!!"

"Oh geez. Okay. Katie, I think you're overthinking this ..."

"I HAVE TO CHANGE DIAPERS AND TEACH OUR KIDS TO WALK AND TALK AND THEN I HAVE TO KEEP THE HOUSE CLEAN AND COOK AND BAKE AND KEEP THE LAUNDRY UP AND (snort, snort, sob) ..."

"Calm down. You do a great job."

"AND MY JOB DESCRIPTION IS JUST 'STAY-AT-HOME'!" ARE YOU KIDDING?? WHAT BOZO COINED THAT TERM?!"

"Katie, go to bed."

"I'M JUST ... I'm just ... (sob, sob)"

"You're tired."

"I'm tired."

"It's not about the cinnamon rolls."

"It is a little."

"Go to bed."

"THREE KIDS."

"Go to bed."

(Pause.)

"Okay."

And I did.

Have a lovely day.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Six Years.



And many more to come. Happy Anniversary to the love of my life!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, May 13, 2011

Love {Tough Guy}.

While taking random pictures last night, I shot this one by accident and it makes me smile. My husband is obviously pondering over something.


What's so funny is that he is only facing the front door. What is he pondering? The wreath? Hmmm ... it's slightly off-center ...

Either way, I love my pondering man. :)

Have a lovely weekend.