Growing Up and Going Forward

Being a mom is hard. I mean it's rewarding there's no doubt about it, but y'all it's still hard. One of the hardest parts about it is watching your baby grow up. No one warned me about this phenomenon . . . this whole growing up thing. Oh wait, people actually did warn me. That's what they meant when they said things like, "Time flies" and "They grow up too fast." Who knew?

The truth is I've been pretty okay with Andrew getting older. I wasn't a huge fan of the newborn stage. They eat, they sleep, they poop, and you don't eat, you don't sleep, and I'll stop there. But the other day, I picked my baby up, and he was huge. Huge being a relative term. I'm a really small person, and by small I mean most twelve ten year olds are bigger than I am. So when I say Andrew is huge, it shouldn't be taken too literally. Anyway, I couldn't help but think about when I brought him home from the hospital, and his entire little body would fit on my chest. He was only 17 inches long, and he weighed less than a bag of flour. I couldn't help but think about how he would lay on my chest and sleep while I would read books or watch t.v.

When Andrew was so little, I couldn't imagine that one day he would walk, and talk, and play sports, and make friends, and be too big to sleep on my chest. It's a huge privilege to watch our kids grow and change. It is also one of the most terrifying and humbling yet awesome experiences on this Earth.

Through all of this, God is showing me that growth is part of life. Our children are supposed to grow up, and one day become independent. But growth shouldn't stop with independence from our Earthly parents. As long as we are living and breathing on this Earth, we should continue to grow. We should continue to seek to allow God to change and mature us in a new way with each day that passes. As long as we are growing, we are living. We were not created to live stagnant lives that never change. God created us to dream and live our lives growing and changing and becoming more today than we were yesterday and more tomorrow than we are today.

Happy Birthday to My Little Superhero

Before you were born I prayed for you. I prayed everyday that you would be healthy and strong. You came into this world five weeks early weighing 4 lbs 13 oz and measuring only 17 inches long.

You weren't too happy to be here. (October 6, 2007 3:51 a.m.)

But, honey, you were healthy, and you were strong.

 (November 2007)

(December 2007)

 

Soon you were a rolly polly ball of laughs. (January 2008 - 3 months old)

Your chubby little cheeks were hard to resist. (April 2008)

And those baby blues are were to die for. (July 19, 2008)

And you definitely have the coolest hair of any kid I know. (September 2008)

 Before we knew it, your first birthday rolled around. (October 2008)

And soon you were walking and trying to fill your Daddy's shoes. (December 2008)

Your second Christmas came with lots of excitement. (December 2008)

And in July of 2009 you went on your first airplane ride and loved every minute of it.

You grew so fast, and two years passed in a flash. (October 2009)



As you grew, so did your personality and your great sense of humor. (December 2009)

(Summer 2010)

In October of 2010, we celebrated your third birthday.

And your fourth Christmas was full of fun. (December of 2010)

(June 2011)

(September 2011)

It's hard to believe you're turning four. You are the greatest little boy in the world. You are my little Superhero. Happy fourth birthday Buddy! I love you.

"For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition which I asked of Him."

 1 Samuel 1:27

The Kind of Mom

I'm the kind of mom that dresses her son in clothes to wear to his grandparents for the evening, picks him up that night and let's him sleep in them, and then allows him to wear them all the next day, all to avoid a major battle. Hey, he did have a bath prior to me putting the clothes on him.

I'm the kind of mom that get's frustrated and tired, and sometimes a little . . . okay a lot on the snappy side.

I'm the kind of mom that lays down with her son for a few minutes each night, because she doesn't have the heart to tell him no.

I'm the kind of mom that messes with her kid. Sometimes I can't help it.

I'm the kind of mom that bribes her child with ice cream and cookies. Don't judge. You do it too.

I'm the kind of mom that can't wait for a night out alone and then can't wait to get home because I miss my child.

I'm the kind of mom that keeps her child up from his nap so that he'll go to bed by 7:00 p.m. Glory, hallelujah.

I'm the kind of mom that makes her child say the same thing, wrong, over and over because I think it's funny. Nice huh?

I'm the kind of mom that worries.

I'm the kind of mom that believes that one of the greatest gifts you can give your child is the gift of learning about Jesus.

I'm the kind of mom that says, "Because I said so." Yes, I'm proud of that one.

I'm the kind of mom that prays and then prays some more.

I may not be perfect. Actually I know I'm not perfect (shocking I know), and sometimes I do get tired and grouchy. But no matter what, I love being a mom. There isn't a better job in the world.

Four Year Pictures

On October 6th Andrew will turn four. Seriously!?! In just a little under a month my little boy is turning four. I feel a strong case of denial coming on here. I wonder how he'd take it if I swaddled him and stuck a bottle in his mouth? Probably wouldn't go over too well . . .

Anyway, every year I spend much dinero to get his pictures taken by a professional, but this year I decided that before I hauled the child to Austin, licked my hand and slicked down his cowlick, and forced him to smile for a stranger, I would give the whole picture taking thing a go myself. I did this for a few reasons. One, we're trying to save money when and where we can. Two, I really wanted to get some more "natural" shots of him, and my parents live on the river (I say "the" as if you know which one I'm talking about) and have some great picture taking spots. Three, Patrick and I both have cameras that were a big investment (his is a Digital SLR and mine is Panasonic Lumix Point and Shoot, super zoom, blah, blah, blah, etc.) so it would make sense for us to actually put those suckers to good use.

I ended up taking all of the pictures with my camera, because someone (ahem, my husband) wouldn't give up the other camera, and all of his pictures turned out goofy. Overall, I was really pleased. I mean I'm not going to quit my day job, but I think I got some frameable prints.

Because he is such a huge superhero fan we started out in the Superman shirt.

That's Anthony, my nephew. I'm not hiding some kid in the closet that no one knows about.

From this point on he was over it. Which is why the pictures aren't in focus, and there's a stick involved.

"Hey Mom, watch me I'm a inja." Yes I meant to type "inja".

 

"Don't mess with me . . . I've got a stick and I know how to use it!"

So there you have it. Not too shabby huh? If you disagree keep it to yourself. We'll all be happier that way. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the corner crying over some of my child's preemie clothes.

Random (Friday) Ramblings

My child is a G to the R to the OUCH this morning. He went to bed, but not to sleep, early last night. He hates to sleep more than any person I've ever seen. Thinks we have big wild parties while he's sleeping. And then, as is usual, he was up with the birds this morning. He will be taking an early and long nap today. But even when he's grouchy and needs a haircut, he's still the cutest kid ever . . .

My sister is picking Andrew up this afternoon to spend the night. It's the only place he sleeps away from us, and it's not that often. I don't like leaving my child. I have issues.

I let him spend the night, because when we go to Bulgaria we're going to have to leave him for a long time.

We're going to the Cheesecake Factory for an early anniversary dinner tonight. Patrick is going to be at youth camp during our real anniversary.

Speaking of youth camp, Patrick is going to be gone for four nights next week. It doesn't bother me to stay alone. I kind of like it, but I'm always super glad when he comes home.

Patrick is supposed to leave at 9:00 a.m. on Monday, but our USCIS fingerprinting appointments are at 3:00 p.m. in San Antonio (the opposite direction), so he'll have to go after the appointment.

We have to drive over an hour to the appointment, and it only takes around 5 minutes. Hmmm.

I wish I had granite countertops. But I don't. Now is not a good time to get them. Lots of adoption fees.

Patrick informed me I can't get granite countertops because we're not going to live here much longer. Would someone please tell me where we're going? Apparently he has money I don't know about (a girl can dream right?).

Patrick doesn't usually read my blog. He lives with me. He's heard most, if not all, of this weirdness before.

I've only been working out every other day. I need to get my behind in gear.

I spent over an hour cleaning the inside of the entertainment center yesterday. I waste time doing stuff like that rather than what I should be doing.

That's 'bout it for today. Have a great Friday folks. (It is Friday right? I never know what day it is)

Hear That? Me Neither . . .

My house is quiet this morning. Like the kind of quiet that tells you there is definitely not a child (or a husband) within the four (or five or six . . . ) walls of your home. It's the kind of quiet a mother rarely hears. And while I love the chatter of my three year old son, it's the kind of quiet I cherish.

Let's just be honest here. I'm going to put it all out there. Am I the only person that thinks about buying ear plugs somedays? Not so much for Andrew, but for everyone in general. I mean there are times I want to holler, "Would everyone please stop talking to me for five minutes?!?". Just so you know, I'm not crazy or psycho or anything, and I love, love, love my family, but I need my space and time alone which is often hard to come by. Sometimes, between teaching school, where I hear "Mrs. Davis" 2.5 million times in an eight hour period, and then coming home and hearing two (sometimes three) people talking non-stop, while the dogs run around barking, I just want to lock myself away for a while. Which is why my desk is in my closet. I can hide there.

Anyway, this summer Andrew is going to "school" on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I've never done this before this year. I really like having him at home, and he plays really well by himself. But he has a tendency to be anti-social like me, so when given the opportunity it's good that he socialize (at least that's what I'm telling myself :)). Back to my point, the daycare he attended before was connected with the school so when the school shut down for the summer so did the daycare. But this year we planned on switching daycares. I've loved the daycare he has been in since he was ten months old. I love the teachers, and they have loved Andrew. On his last day there, I couldn't hang around because I thought I might burst into tears. Of course, given the fact that I burst into tears with almost every major (and not so major) transition in Andrew's life it's really not a surprise. In spite of my love for his daycare, it was time to move on. We have a fabulous preschool at the Lutheran church in our town. The biggest problem that we faced was that Andrew was having none of it. When I told him he would start a new preschool in the fall he cried. What can I say? He's overly dramatic sensitive like his mama.

I knew he needed time to adjust and transition, so I asked them to call if they had any part time openings in the summer. It is rare that this school has openings. Andrew has been on the waiting list since he was ten months old (and they only take kids three years old and up). So when they called and asked if I was still interested in Tuesdays and Thursdays, I was like "Heck Yes!". (Anyone catch my Napoleon Dynamite reference? Yep, it's official, I'm a dork.)

Needless to say, that's why he's in school right now, and I'm sitting in a very quiet house and drinking my coffee without any interruption. Not to worry, by the end of the day I will miss my child's non-stop (when I say non-stop, I literally mean non-stop) talking  like crazy and will be thrilled to kiss his chubby, albeit dirty, little cheeks. But until then . . .

Have a great day everyone!