Grrr! Can I just rant for a second?
I debated posting this for the sake of Rainey's personal information, but I would like everyone to know just how horrible and disgusting our healthcare is here. I would also like to address the fact that we as parents need to stand up for our children. Their little bodies and voices can't be heard, especially in the medical field. It is our responsibility to take control and make things right for them.
I just got back from Rainey's speech therapist early this morning requesting their reports they have done on her. When I received the stack of papers I didn't read it at first. As I was walking out of the hospital with James I read through her "problems" so they listed them. It read:
- Developmental delay
- Autism
- Speech delay
- OBESITY
- Seizure disorder
- Gross motor skills delay
- Fine motor skills delay
and so on...
... but what irritated me was the fact that a speech therapist put in BOLD CAPITAL letters the word OBESITY.
How is an almost three year old obese and why would this pertain to a speech therapist? Now, before you say in your snarky know-it-all voice, Well she is probably a food therapist as well. No, no she isn't. And I know that for a fact. We have our own food therapist and she has never labeled our daughter obese or had worries of obesity.
Our main concern out of all of those is her seizure disorder, not her weight. We have been battling for almost two year with her seizures. Her seizure have been causing a speech and developmental delay, thus needing a speech therapist and in home developmental therapist. For a speech therapist to mention her weight is none of her business and for her speech therapist to label her something that she isn't is not right.
Yes, as Rainey's mother I have had concerns for her weight. I'm not going to hide the truth. In the past I have spoken to her pediatrician many times. Each and every time they have told me not to worry. They see this all the time with children and would never label a child obese or overweight until after they started 1st grade. This assured me that Rainey would be okay and just like her father, once she starts school she will easily shed her baby weight. That's all it is. Baby weight!
I get it. Most of America, 68.8%, is over weight. Not enough exercise and too much McDonald's can do that to ya. But let me just say, we are a healthy family. We eat good, we exercise, we play, we run, we hike, we jog, we chase, we climb, and we have fun.
I will admit, my little Rainey is bigger than all of her friends her age; but not hugely bigger or in correct terms, obese. She has baby weight. Again, BABY WEIGHT! Some children hold on to their baby chub longer than others. So, does that give someone, even a professional, the right to call my child obese? Heck no!
Any person can see that our sweet Rainey isn't skin and bones, but when you are in a profession where you are working with special children, you need to be more aware of what you are labeling them. Be professional and be sensitive. No professional would or should label a two year old obese.
I am her voice. I am the one who has to stand up for my child and protect her. This speech therapist's write up was uncalled for and, quite frankly, disgusting. I will be writing a formal complaint and I will be talking to her speech therapist in person.
Whether a child be autistic, handicapped, a little on the fluffy side, or struggling with speech delays; we should ALL be sympathetic and have a voice for these children!
Rant over.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
LOVE Conquers Barriers
All day Thursday Rainey seemed fine. She played, she ate, she laughed, and she giggled - she was a normal, energetic two year old. We had a fun day full of friends and soccer. After Jaylee's soccer practice the whole family was starving. We had an hour to spare before James' soccer game started and in the mean time we had to pick up one of his teammates. After picking up his teammate we stopped at Burger King to get the girls a quick and cheap hamburger before it was time to head off to the field. Time flew by quicker than we had planned and James and Gavin had to leave for the game while the girls finished eating. Since it was getting cold outside anyways, I told them we'd be coming in around ten to fifteen minutes once the girls were finished. The girls and I all kissed James goodbye and they both ran out to the field as we began to watch the team warm up through our booth window.
A few minutes went by. Jaylee sat quietly as she finished her chicken nuggets, and Rainey was happily standing on the bench gazing out the window munching on french fries, while Eira continued to play and giggle as she kissed my checks loudly. As I was playing with Eira I looked up from the table and saw Rainey leaning backwards onto the headrest of the booth. There have been many instances where we have found her arching her back in order to stretch it due to growing pains, so I didn't think much of it. She then began to stomp her feet as she leaned further backwards and I figured she was in the beginning stage of a tantrum. So, I again shrugged it off. After a few seconds of hearing her stomp I realized her paper container of fries began to slowly slip out of her hand as she started to stomp louder and much quicker. I heard the spirit whisper in my ear, "Seizure. It's a seizure."
"Oh, no!" I gasped as I jumped up as fast as I could. I grabbed under both of her armpits and quickly but carefully pulled her down onto the bench. I knelt down on my knees and cradled her head in my chest as her legs lay on the bench and her little, helpless body propped against the back of the seat. A sweet woman rushed to my side. She grabbed Rainey from behind and turned her completely onto her side. Rainey had an entire handful of fries in her mouth and was starting to turn blue. She was choking. As my arms began to shake uncontrollably, to the point where I could no longer hold tightly to my Rainey girl, the sweet woman massaged Rainey's cheeks in hopes to get the food out of her clenched mouth. As she worked on Rainey I could hear her husband on the phone with emergency services. I could hear him yell, "She's blue! She's not breathing! She had a seizure with food in her mouth and she's choking."From that moment on, it's all a blur. I remember bits and pieces of what went on. I remember seeing Jaylee cry hysterically as she watched her sister turn blue and fade into a deep sleep. I remember the strength in the woman eyes as she held onto my child, never letting go. I remember the fear in the mans voice as he spoke on the phone with 112. I remember flashing lights and lots of men in uniforms. I remember seeing James run into the lobby searching for his baby with worry on his face. And then, I remember the fire department men standing over my baby yelling to the EMT's that my child - my baby, was now unresponsive.
I just stared. I stared at the EMT's and Burger King employees in shock that my child had just had a seizure when I was least expecting it. I wasn't prepared and I wasn't ready.
By this time, I had been separated from James for around twenty minutes or so and anxiously waiting for him to walk through the door. I hadn't seen him since the ambulance had left the restaurant and I didn't know where he was. I had taken his cellphone and left him with no form of communication. He had both Jaylee and Eira with him and I was hoping he would have quickly dropped them off at a friends house before coming to the hospital. To my surprise, James walked through the door with both Jay and Eira in tow. Thankfully, by then Rainey was settled into her bed and fast asleep.
After a few tests they decided to admit Rainey into the German children's hospital so they could keep a close eye on her. They settled us into a new room and hooked her up to many different machines. We also had a little German roommate who was the same age as Rainey. Her and her mother didn't speak any english, but they were extremely kind in welcoming us into our room.
Later that night as I laid on my little pull out bed I tried to get some sleep. The mother of Rainey's roommate lay next to me and with every little sound we would together jump up from our light sleep and rush to our child's bedside. We'd look at our daughters to see if it was them who had made the sound. We then would turn and look at each other and give a supportive smile. If it was her child that had woken, she'd stay to assist her daughter and I would lay back down and try to get some rest before the next little noise woke us up again. And vise-versa.
Around four in the morning I woke to hear Rainey coughing. I immediately jumped from my bed and within two large and rushed steps I was at the foot of her bed. Due to all the machines I couldn't get any closer then the foot of her bed and could barely reach ankle. I lay my hand on her foot and softly rubbed her chubby, sausage toes. It was that moment that I finally lost it. I was no longer in shock. Tears rolled down my face as I sobbed as quietly as a heart aching mother could sob without waking our roommates or my tender, sleeping child. As I continued to cry I heard the other mother turn over in her bed. I wiped my tears from my cheek and saw that she was sitting up in bed. She smiled at me and even though we spoke two completely different languages, our hearts spoke to each other as if there was no language barrier. With a kind smile on her face her eyes calmly whispered to me, "It's okay. I am here and you are not alone. You are loved." In this exchange of no words I witnessed the love of Christ from a woman whom I didn't even know and could hardly understand.
It was really neat to have an experience like I did with this lovely woman in such a heart breaking situation. She understood me and I understood her. We were both mother's - there to get help for our healthy yet sick children. I will never forget this quick and heaven sent friendship. For those few minutes, I felt like everything was going to be okay.As for now, Rainey has been discharged. Hip-hip-HORRAY! Since the neurologist doesn't work on the weekend we were told we had two options. 1.) We could stay at the hospital all weekend and do testing on Monday or 2.) We could get sent home with some epileptic medication to stop a seizure if one is to happen and then be readmitted on Sunday through Tuesday so we can finish all of her testing. After much thought and prayer, we chose to come home with the epileptic medication and are keeping a sharp eye on our little Rainy girl. We feel she would be more comfortable at home as opposed to being stuck in a hospital room and tiny bed during the three day weekend. Come Sunday though, we will be back at the hospital getting a series of testing done. Since this is her third seizure without a fever her pediatric neurologist is swaying more on the idea that this may be epilepsy. We are now having to weight the pros and cons on putting her on daily medication vs. no medication. Our stress level is up as we educate ourselves with different forms of seizures and many different medications. We are exhausted and so behind on everyday home life, but so blessed to have everyday with each other.
Thank you to all those who have been praying for her and placing her name in the temple. Please, continue to pray for the doctors to find a diagnosis, Rainey to get better, and our family to stay strong. We love you all and are so grateful for so many supportive family and friends.
XOXOX,
Brittany
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Let Them Be Little
A few nights ago I sat in the dark living room rocking my sweet thirteen month old to sleep. It was the middle of the night and everyone else was fast asleep. Her golden blonde hair glistened in the glow of the kitchen nightlight. I sang to her, I snuggled her, I played with her hair, and I kissed her sweet cheeks until she closed her eyes and began to snore softly into my chest. I fell in love.
After placing her in my bed where she lay wrapped tightly in her fathers arms, my two year old woke up crying from a very unwanted night terror. I quietly tiptoed into her bedroom, careful to not wake her sleeping sister. I picked her up and carried her into my bed. I again sang to her, I snuggled her, I played with her hair, and I kissed her sweet cheeks until she closed her eyes and began to snore softly into my chest. I fell in love.
As I lay in my small queen sized bed full with my husband and two dreaming babies, I couldn't help but feel as though my night wasn't complete. Our four year old daughter lay alone, asleep across the hall in her bed. I again tiptoed into her bedroom and crawled onto her bunk bed. I pulled the blankets over the two of us and lay my head on her pink piggy pillow pet. And again, I sang to her, I snuggled her, I played with her hair, and I kissed her sweet cheeks. I fell in love. I brushed her thin blonde hair away from her precious face, and then... I cried. And cried. And cried again.
In the moment I tucked her hair behind her ear, I realized just how little she still is. Her hands are half the size of my palm and her nose still the size of a button.
Just like any other loving parent, since the day she was born I looked forward to watching her grow up. I couldn't wait for her to take her first step, for her to say her first word, and for her to use the big girl potty for the first time. In the anticipation for these firsts I have forgotten just how little she actually was. I often looked forward to the next milestone instead of enjoying and making memories of her newest discoveries.
When I was pregnant with our second little girl I remember my mother telling me, "Don't make her grow up too quickly because you are having another little baby. They all grow up too fast." Of course as the new mother I was, I shrugged off my mothers advice because I already knew it all. I mean come on, I read the entire What to Expect series from front to back about four times during my second pregnancy. Parenting two would be a piece of cake. And boy, was I wrong. Four and a half years later, I am just now realizing that my mother was correct more times than I had ever thought she'd be.
Most days I find myself telling my oldest "You are the big sister, it's your duty," or the famous, "You aren't a baby anymore. You are a big girl." I am sure other parents are guilty of one or more of these motivational phrases seeing as it usually gets our little ones to put on their big kid panties and get to work. But when I say these few sentences, just how much damage is it actually doing to not just her as a child, but me as her parent?
These simple phrases are helping me, and possibly other parents, forget just how little our children are. I have forced her to grow up quicker than she ever needed to, especially since her sisters have been born. She will only be my sweet, kind hearted, innocent, little girl for a short time and someday she will grow up and be my snobby teenager. Why am I rushing that?
I need to remember to forget the next milestone and snuggle my babies as babies, because before you know it they are off and walking, talking, and being big kids. Even though they will always be my babies, they won't always be babies.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two quotes I absolutely love because they stand hand in hand:
"Lost time is never found again."
"Do't waste your time looking back on what you've lost. Move on, for life is not meant to be traveled backwards."
Lost time is never regained, so remember to always live as if it was your last day and enjoy where you are in life. If there are days that you forget to slow down and enjoy, don't look back and grieve over the time you lost. Instead, look forward with a smile and remind yourself that you will try harder, do better, and love more.
After placing her in my bed where she lay wrapped tightly in her fathers arms, my two year old woke up crying from a very unwanted night terror. I quietly tiptoed into her bedroom, careful to not wake her sleeping sister. I picked her up and carried her into my bed. I again sang to her, I snuggled her, I played with her hair, and I kissed her sweet cheeks until she closed her eyes and began to snore softly into my chest. I fell in love.
As I lay in my small queen sized bed full with my husband and two dreaming babies, I couldn't help but feel as though my night wasn't complete. Our four year old daughter lay alone, asleep across the hall in her bed. I again tiptoed into her bedroom and crawled onto her bunk bed. I pulled the blankets over the two of us and lay my head on her pink piggy pillow pet. And again, I sang to her, I snuggled her, I played with her hair, and I kissed her sweet cheeks. I fell in love. I brushed her thin blonde hair away from her precious face, and then... I cried. And cried. And cried again.
In the moment I tucked her hair behind her ear, I realized just how little she still is. Her hands are half the size of my palm and her nose still the size of a button.
Just like any other loving parent, since the day she was born I looked forward to watching her grow up. I couldn't wait for her to take her first step, for her to say her first word, and for her to use the big girl potty for the first time. In the anticipation for these firsts I have forgotten just how little she actually was. I often looked forward to the next milestone instead of enjoying and making memories of her newest discoveries.
When I was pregnant with our second little girl I remember my mother telling me, "Don't make her grow up too quickly because you are having another little baby. They all grow up too fast." Of course as the new mother I was, I shrugged off my mothers advice because I already knew it all. I mean come on, I read the entire What to Expect series from front to back about four times during my second pregnancy. Parenting two would be a piece of cake. And boy, was I wrong. Four and a half years later, I am just now realizing that my mother was correct more times than I had ever thought she'd be.
Most days I find myself telling my oldest "You are the big sister, it's your duty," or the famous, "You aren't a baby anymore. You are a big girl." I am sure other parents are guilty of one or more of these motivational phrases seeing as it usually gets our little ones to put on their big kid panties and get to work. But when I say these few sentences, just how much damage is it actually doing to not just her as a child, but me as her parent?
These simple phrases are helping me, and possibly other parents, forget just how little our children are. I have forced her to grow up quicker than she ever needed to, especially since her sisters have been born. She will only be my sweet, kind hearted, innocent, little girl for a short time and someday she will grow up and be my snobby teenager. Why am I rushing that?
I need to remember to forget the next milestone and snuggle my babies as babies, because before you know it they are off and walking, talking, and being big kids. Even though they will always be my babies, they won't always be babies.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two quotes I absolutely love because they stand hand in hand:
"Lost time is never found again."
"Do't waste your time looking back on what you've lost. Move on, for life is not meant to be traveled backwards."
Lost time is never regained, so remember to always live as if it was your last day and enjoy where you are in life. If there are days that you forget to slow down and enjoy, don't look back and grieve over the time you lost. Instead, look forward with a smile and remind yourself that you will try harder, do better, and love more.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
The Dangers of "Proving Pride"
When I get in the mood to clean, I clean.... and I mean everything. From the floors to the ceiling, everything is scrubbed and disinfected. Every couch cushion is shampooed and every surfaced windexed.
It was a little after 11:00 pm on a week day. James had to get to work early the next morning and I had a day full of errands to run and to-do's to get done. As I walked down the hall muttering my list of things to clean next James tiptoed out of the girls room after putting them to sleep and sweetly asked where the broom was so he could help me finish up the house. By this time, I was sweaty, tired, and my back was painfully numb - due to too many epidurals, oiy! I picked up the vacuum which was sitting at the top of the stairs and I began to work my way down our steep tile stairs. While leaning my sore back up against the railing trying to offset the weight of our cheap and heavy vacuum I let out a loud sigh with a tad bit of a grunt at the end.
My sweet husband put his hand on my shoulder and said softly but loud enough to reach over the roar of the vacuum, "Let me do this for you Brit. You get some sleep."
I looked up with pain in my eyes and replied, "No, I can do it. I did it while you were gone, I can do it now. I am fine." After I had said this, I noticed pain in his eyes as well. I could feel he had felt shut down and pushed away. As he walked off to bed I took a deep breath and realized the damage my pride may have just caused.
You see, I don't normally push people away due to anger, but out of pride. I am one who feels as though I need to prove my strength to others in order to feel as if I am worthy enough for a title. Whether that title be a mother, a wife, a cook, or a homemaker. I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt my husbands feelings or purposely trying to make him feel as if I don't need his help anymore. I realized what I had done and I felt horrible.
For the rest of the night I couldn't help but think of other times I had done exactly this. I have one memory of this same scenario that always comes back to haunt me.
When I was thirty-seven weeks pregnant with Eira, my lovely mother flew clear across the United States and over the Atlantic ocean in order to come help James and I prepare for our sweet baby's arrival and to also help take care of the older girls. I cannot explain exactly how excited I was to see her. It had been ten months since I had last seen my mother and I was craving a loving hug from her. We hadn't been reunited for longer than a few minutes before my "proving pride" I will call it, got in the way. As we were heading out to the airport parking garage my mother asked me to give her one of the babies so that I wouldn't have my hands so full. I immediately raised my eyebrow at her and said with a chuckle, "I am fine. I have done it all this time without you, I can do it now." At that moment, I didn't realize what damage I was causing when I spoke these words. Why I had said it was because I knew my mother was tired, sore, and hurting from her long flight and I didn't want to cause her any more pain by laying my over packed diaperbag and rowdy children on top of her as well as her own baggage. My mother, of course, insisted that I gave her some of the bags and one of the girls.
This happened many times in the two months she was visiting, both before and after I had the baby. I would often mutter these words when she offered her help no matter what I was doing. If I was sweeping, I said them. If I was loading and unloading the kids from the van, I said them. If I was carrying groceries up two flights of stairs at nine months pregnant, I said them. I wanted to prove to my mother that I was a great mother myself and that she taught me well. That is why I constantly repeated this sentence. Not to make her feel as if her long trip was for nothing, not to belittle her, and definitely not to hurt her.
After many weeks of not allowing my mother to help out much, she started to feel worthless. I remember a long talk we had sitting on the guest bed together.
We talked. We cried. We laughed. We cried some more.
It (for a lack of better words and a little goofiness added...) was glorious! This conversation was hands down one of the best talks I have ever shared with my mother. In that moment, I realized how deeply she does love me and that due to her deep and unconditional love, she flew thousands of miles to come be with me in my time of need. She wanted to help and she was willing to help, if only I would allow her to. Why I didn't realize this sooner, I have no idea.
But, even though she has forgiven me for my stubborn attitude and I have forgiven myself, it is hard for me to forget. I often think back to those couple months and wonder Why? Why didn't I realize the result of my actions sooner? Thinking back, I constantly feel guilty. I worry for the guilt I might carry if my mother was to someday soon pass and that was my last memory I have of her in my home.
Would I be proud of my last days spent with her? Did she leave this Earth knowing just how much I really do love and care for her and how much I am truly thankful to have her as my mother?
I know without a doubt that my mother would know that I loved her, but would she have truly known how much I cared for her? By my actions those few months, I am not sure she would have and that pains me thinking that someone I love so deeply could ever feel that way.
Having family be there for you - whether that be a new baby, deployments, in sickness, or in trialing times is such a blessing. I need to remind myself more often to not take what I have for granted. Whether it is my mother helping me unload the girls from the back of the van or my tired husband vacuuming the stairs for me so I can rest, I need to remember to let them help and make them feel needed and most importantly.... WANTED. I need to quit trying to prove to others I can do it all on my own, because well... let's be honest, we can't always do it all on our own. I look forward to getting pregnant again, having my mother fly over to visit me, and put her to work doing my dishes, laundry, cooking, and cleaning.
Did you hear that mom?! I have finally agreed to letting you do it ALL! *wink wink*
I am so grateful I have realized the dangers of my proving pride before I caused permanent damage and I am blessed beyond measure to have my amazing husband and sweet mother who both understand and forgive me for being prideful at times.
With that said, I am a very visual learner. So now, I am off to place sticky notes throughout my house with the words "Delete Proving Pride" to help remind me daily to step back and let those I love help me in times when I may need it.
It was a little after 11:00 pm on a week day. James had to get to work early the next morning and I had a day full of errands to run and to-do's to get done. As I walked down the hall muttering my list of things to clean next James tiptoed out of the girls room after putting them to sleep and sweetly asked where the broom was so he could help me finish up the house. By this time, I was sweaty, tired, and my back was painfully numb - due to too many epidurals, oiy! I picked up the vacuum which was sitting at the top of the stairs and I began to work my way down our steep tile stairs. While leaning my sore back up against the railing trying to offset the weight of our cheap and heavy vacuum I let out a loud sigh with a tad bit of a grunt at the end.
My sweet husband put his hand on my shoulder and said softly but loud enough to reach over the roar of the vacuum, "Let me do this for you Brit. You get some sleep."
I looked up with pain in my eyes and replied, "No, I can do it. I did it while you were gone, I can do it now. I am fine." After I had said this, I noticed pain in his eyes as well. I could feel he had felt shut down and pushed away. As he walked off to bed I took a deep breath and realized the damage my pride may have just caused.
You see, I don't normally push people away due to anger, but out of pride. I am one who feels as though I need to prove my strength to others in order to feel as if I am worthy enough for a title. Whether that title be a mother, a wife, a cook, or a homemaker. I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt my husbands feelings or purposely trying to make him feel as if I don't need his help anymore. I realized what I had done and I felt horrible.
For the rest of the night I couldn't help but think of other times I had done exactly this. I have one memory of this same scenario that always comes back to haunt me.
When I was thirty-seven weeks pregnant with Eira, my lovely mother flew clear across the United States and over the Atlantic ocean in order to come help James and I prepare for our sweet baby's arrival and to also help take care of the older girls. I cannot explain exactly how excited I was to see her. It had been ten months since I had last seen my mother and I was craving a loving hug from her. We hadn't been reunited for longer than a few minutes before my "proving pride" I will call it, got in the way. As we were heading out to the airport parking garage my mother asked me to give her one of the babies so that I wouldn't have my hands so full. I immediately raised my eyebrow at her and said with a chuckle, "I am fine. I have done it all this time without you, I can do it now." At that moment, I didn't realize what damage I was causing when I spoke these words. Why I had said it was because I knew my mother was tired, sore, and hurting from her long flight and I didn't want to cause her any more pain by laying my over packed diaperbag and rowdy children on top of her as well as her own baggage. My mother, of course, insisted that I gave her some of the bags and one of the girls.
This happened many times in the two months she was visiting, both before and after I had the baby. I would often mutter these words when she offered her help no matter what I was doing. If I was sweeping, I said them. If I was loading and unloading the kids from the van, I said them. If I was carrying groceries up two flights of stairs at nine months pregnant, I said them. I wanted to prove to my mother that I was a great mother myself and that she taught me well. That is why I constantly repeated this sentence. Not to make her feel as if her long trip was for nothing, not to belittle her, and definitely not to hurt her.
After many weeks of not allowing my mother to help out much, she started to feel worthless. I remember a long talk we had sitting on the guest bed together.
We talked. We cried. We laughed. We cried some more.
It (for a lack of better words and a little goofiness added...) was glorious! This conversation was hands down one of the best talks I have ever shared with my mother. In that moment, I realized how deeply she does love me and that due to her deep and unconditional love, she flew thousands of miles to come be with me in my time of need. She wanted to help and she was willing to help, if only I would allow her to. Why I didn't realize this sooner, I have no idea.
But, even though she has forgiven me for my stubborn attitude and I have forgiven myself, it is hard for me to forget. I often think back to those couple months and wonder Why? Why didn't I realize the result of my actions sooner? Thinking back, I constantly feel guilty. I worry for the guilt I might carry if my mother was to someday soon pass and that was my last memory I have of her in my home.
Would I be proud of my last days spent with her? Did she leave this Earth knowing just how much I really do love and care for her and how much I am truly thankful to have her as my mother?
I know without a doubt that my mother would know that I loved her, but would she have truly known how much I cared for her? By my actions those few months, I am not sure she would have and that pains me thinking that someone I love so deeply could ever feel that way.
Having family be there for you - whether that be a new baby, deployments, in sickness, or in trialing times is such a blessing. I need to remind myself more often to not take what I have for granted. Whether it is my mother helping me unload the girls from the back of the van or my tired husband vacuuming the stairs for me so I can rest, I need to remember to let them help and make them feel needed and most importantly.... WANTED. I need to quit trying to prove to others I can do it all on my own, because well... let's be honest, we can't always do it all on our own. I look forward to getting pregnant again, having my mother fly over to visit me, and put her to work doing my dishes, laundry, cooking, and cleaning.
Did you hear that mom?! I have finally agreed to letting you do it ALL! *wink wink*
I am so grateful I have realized the dangers of my proving pride before I caused permanent damage and I am blessed beyond measure to have my amazing husband and sweet mother who both understand and forgive me for being prideful at times.
With that said, I am a very visual learner. So now, I am off to place sticky notes throughout my house with the words "Delete Proving Pride" to help remind me daily to step back and let those I love help me in times when I may need it.
Friday, January 16, 2015
"Dear Mommy, it's okay to have messes..."
Messes. We all have them. Whether it be the dishes pilled in the sink after a delicious family dinner, the mound of dirty laundry laying on our bathroom floors, or the handfuls of goldfish infesting our bed as we doze off to sleep forgetting we haven't swept the floor in the past four days. We'd be lying if we said we didn't have them and we'd be lying if we said they didn't bother us.
I will be the last one to say my house isn't messy and it doesn't bother me. As you can see by this picture, it is far from clean. I'll admit, I have been known to get upset when I walk out of the bathroom to find that my living room looks more like a tornado has ripped through my house in the two minutes it took me to pee than the fact that it took me over an hour to get it looking half way decent. My eyes widen, my blood starts to boil, my fists clench, and my lips pierce as if I am holding in some choice words. But then, the sweetest of voices whispers from underneath me, "Mommy, don't you like my tower?" I look down to see my innocent four year old holding a stack of Legos. I take a deep breath and look around the room to find my other two children playing in harmony on the rug. I smile with a sigh of relief. They are happy - happy in the chaos of the mess.
They continue their play as I sit on the couch and watch with the smile still plastered on my face. I giggle watching them tickle each other, fight with one another, and resume playing once again. This is a typical day in our household - the fighting, the playing, the smiling, AND the messes!
And now, let me tell you a little secret, especially if you are a brand new mother to a sweet little baby stressing over chores needing done - it's okay to have messes.
I repeat...
It is OKAY to have MESSES!
Life is messy and life is even messier when you have children. Plain and simple. But in all the dirt and crushed Cheerios living in my carpet, this right here is what I live for. I live for those messy snuggles in the middle of the night as I rock my teething baby back to sleep, kissing on my sweet girls in the middle of my disaster of a house, and wiping peanut butter smears off the TV knowing that my little ones bellies are full. Nothing sounds sweeter than digging for my amethyst earrings in our vacuum after my oldest tried to clean up her spilled milk, folding the same load of laundry three times in a day only to have my children rip it apart looking for their Elsa pajamas, or frantically searching for the missing car keys which happen to be hidden in the bottom of the Lego box. The mess will be there tomorrow just as it was today, but these babies will not be the same as they were yesterday. They will be a day older. A day bigger. A day closer to not wanting my snuggles.
So Mama, young or old, put down that broom and dustpan. There is no need to slave over having that Better Homes and Gardens house pictured in this months magazine when there is time to be spent with those kiddos. I know it's hard to let go of your perfectly, perfect house. I have been there. It took me a few years to really 'get used to the mess', but now that I am, I can honestly say I am so much happier. I am truly happy. And most importantly, my family is happy!
Today (and quite possibly tomorrow as well) I am going to put the cleaning behind me and sit to snuggle my girls a bit longer, kiss my husband a thousand more times, and soak in this moment. Tomorrow isn't promised, so spend every second you can as if it was your last.
~ Brittany
Your Protector, Your Mother
Do you remember running into your parents room after a scary nightmare?
Do you remember how safe you felt in their arms wrapped up in your little blanket?
Do you remember the sound of your Dad's strong heartbeat as you lay with your ear on his chest?
Do you remember how graceful your mother twirled your hair in her fingertips as you drifted off to sleep again?
I remember it and I miss it. I miss being an innocent child feeling safe and secure in the presence of my parents and oh, what I would do to be snuggled in their bed again! My parents always made me feel safe, no matter where we were. If we were home or if we were traveling, I knew that as long as I was with them I would be safe from any harm. I hope to be the kind of mother my mother was to me and I pray my husband will be the kind of father my father still is. They never told me I couldn't climb into her bed for comfort and they most certainly never turned me away. They always opened their arms and accepted me, even if it were the middle of the night.
For I remember my parents calming my fears and wiping my tears in the middle of the night, and I will do the same for my girls. Children won't be children forever, I will only get them for a short time - and because they are only mine for a short time, they can climb up in my bed at any hour of the night. I am their security, their protector, their mother.
~ Brittany
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Deployment day, It is among us.
Today is the day I have been dreading for the past four months. Deployment. It's the day every military family runs from and certainly doesn't look forward to. For the past three years our little family has been so blessed to not deal with Daddy leaving... until today.
We spent our last night as a family enjoying a delicious homemade meal and having a family sleepover after cleaning up from Jaylee's birthday party. I wanted to spoil James with the best meal I could possibly make. He loves wings and shrimp, so that is just what I chose to make for him. I didn't have a recipe for wings, so I decided to wing it! (haha! get it? "winged" it... lmbo) While the chicken was baking I fried up some jumpo shrimp, his absolute fav. A side of cheesy rice to go with and voila, a perfect meal!
After we enjoyed our dinner, James bathed the girls while I cleaned up and fed the baby. Once the girls were washed and dressed, we put on a movie on for the kiddos so James could finish packing his duffel and I could finish making their daddy-dolls.
I had planned on finishing their daddy-dolls before dinner. That way, we could sit down as a family and snuggle while explaining to the girls that Daddy would be leaving for a little bit, but that didn't happen like planned. Since I kept making mistakes, the dolls took me a little longer to make than I had expected. By the time I was finished, both girls were out cold. They hadn't even finished their movie. Since they were asleep, I decided I would run up stairs and help James pack. I left the baby asleep on the couch so I could spend some time with my husband before the night was over. Of course, as soon as I got up to our room, the baby woke up. James went down stairs to comfort her and Jaylee who had woken from Eira's cries. While James was out of the room, I slipped some love notes buried in all of this clothing: I folded some into his garments, tucked some into his socks, placed a few in his ABU pockets, and a the last couple into his scriptures.
When I was finished, I walked back downstairs to find everyone sleeping in the livingroom. I knew James was tired since we had stayed up until early in the morning the night before. I decided to pick up the house a bit before going to bed. That way, it wasn't such a disaster in the morning and all potential stress could hopefully be eliminated. Before I could finish, the baby woke up again, this time also waking James. He told me it was time for me to go to bed, we had a busy day tomorrow, and he didn't want me exhausted. He handed me the baby and said with a tired smile, "let me make you a bed." It is these acts of selflessness that make me fall more and more in love with him everyday. Despite how tired he was and knowing how long he would be traveling in the morning completely exhausted, he still got up and began to make me a bed on the couch. He told me to sit down and he'd cover me with a blanket. I then began to cry realizing that this was without a doubt, my last night with him for a while. Reality sank in. I sat up and began to not just cry, but sob hysterically. James sat down next to me and embraced me in his arms as tight as he could, one hand around me and the other on my face as the baby nursed vigorously on my chest. I could hear him choke back some tears as he tried to clear his throat. He stroked my hair out of the stream of tears rushing down my face. We then began a conversation that I will never forget. It is too personal to write out for the world (friends really) to read, but I will say this, I am deeply in love with this man and his spiritual self. He truly is amazing.
Alright, enough with the sappy stuff...
After a good, hard cry we fell asleep. When I awoke just a few hours later, my head throbbed from the pressure of emotion that had built up. Before starting our day, I said a little prayer and asked the Lord to please bless this day to go by as slow as possible. I wanted every minute of this morning to be remembered happy, calm, and every bit peaceful. We then quickly got ready. Surprisingly, we were out the door two hours later, which in our household, is a complete miracle. James wanted to go out for a special lunch so I wouldn't have to spend our last few hours together cooking and cleaning up after three messy girls. Of course, he chose a burger and wing joint. I am not a fan of their wings, but I thought I could suck it up and enjoy a nice lunch with my family for this one time at this restaurant.
After we ate, we decided it was probably time to talk to the girls, especially Jaylee. She is almost four and I had been putting it off long enough- maybe even too long. Right outside of the restaurant was a few patches of trees, some green soft grass, and a beautiful flower garden. We stopped there and sat as a family. James and I began to explain to Jaylee what was going to take place later today. She is absolutely fascinated by airplanes and we knew that if we explained it with the thought of Daddy flying in an airplane she would hopefully be ecstatic. James began with asking her if she knew where he was going. She just looked at him and clicked her tongue. I'm not too sure why she was doing this, but probably just to be silly. He then explained that he was going to go fly to a new place for work on his 'special airplane' and that he would be back in a little bit. "I'll be home after Christmas, and in the mean time, you need to be good for Mommy.Okay? You also will get to go see your Grandmas and Grandpas, won't that be fun? I'll be home soon." Jay just nodded with a smile on her face as I thought to myself, Well, that was easier than I thought!
Since we hadn't given the girls their dolls yet, we thought now was the perfect time. As I pulled them out of the diaper bag the girls went crazy. They were so excited. We explained that they could now carry Daddy anywhere they go thanks to this cute little doll. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to attach a nipple for the baby. Other than that, they were the perfect gift! ;)
After our wonderful family time it was time to take James to the flight line. I don't think I could have driven any slower than I did that day. I joked around saying I was just going to kidnap him and head right out the gate. That way, he wouldn't have to leave us. We laughed and I drove even slower.
When we arrived at the flight line everyone hoped out as quickly as possible, all awed at the planes. I, on the other hand, slowly unbuckled my seat belt, hesitated to open the door, and slid like a snail out of my seat. This was it.
We walked onto the flight line and were greeted by a tall dark man. He quickly started throwing papers at James, talking to him, and explaining that he had only a few minutes to finish everything before leaving. This was our good-bye. A quick hug from Jay around his leg and a peck on the lips from me and he was gone, leaving the girls and I stranded on the flight line. I tried as hard as I could to hold in my tears until I could get to the car.
I walked as fast as my legs could take me, all while carrying a baby on my hip, pushing a stroller, holding Jay's hand, and carrying the diaper bag. If only I could say bye one more time, I prayed. As I began to load everyone into the van, I heard my phone start singing James' ringtone. I was so shocked to get a call from him. He asked for me to wait and he'd be right out, he had forgotten something. I smiled with from ear to ear. I was so over joyed! When he came out he immediately hugged me as tight as he could, gave me a kiss, and said with tears in his eyes, "I love you Brit. I'll be home soon. I am so sorry"
And then, I lost it....
"It's okay, it's okay. I love you too." I cried into his neck as I hugged him for the last time. I didn't let go. I couldn't let go. My arms tightened with every breath. As he pulled away I held onto his hand. His fingers slowly slipped away as he wiped the tears from his cheek. I watched him walk off onto the flight line as he turned for his final wave goodbye.
And now, this is it. The count down begins...
We spent our last night as a family enjoying a delicious homemade meal and having a family sleepover after cleaning up from Jaylee's birthday party. I wanted to spoil James with the best meal I could possibly make. He loves wings and shrimp, so that is just what I chose to make for him. I didn't have a recipe for wings, so I decided to wing it! (haha! get it? "winged" it... lmbo) While the chicken was baking I fried up some jumpo shrimp, his absolute fav. A side of cheesy rice to go with and voila, a perfect meal!
After we enjoyed our dinner, James bathed the girls while I cleaned up and fed the baby. Once the girls were washed and dressed, we put on a movie on for the kiddos so James could finish packing his duffel and I could finish making their daddy-dolls.
I had planned on finishing their daddy-dolls before dinner. That way, we could sit down as a family and snuggle while explaining to the girls that Daddy would be leaving for a little bit, but that didn't happen like planned. Since I kept making mistakes, the dolls took me a little longer to make than I had expected. By the time I was finished, both girls were out cold. They hadn't even finished their movie. Since they were asleep, I decided I would run up stairs and help James pack. I left the baby asleep on the couch so I could spend some time with my husband before the night was over. Of course, as soon as I got up to our room, the baby woke up. James went down stairs to comfort her and Jaylee who had woken from Eira's cries. While James was out of the room, I slipped some love notes buried in all of this clothing: I folded some into his garments, tucked some into his socks, placed a few in his ABU pockets, and a the last couple into his scriptures.
When I was finished, I walked back downstairs to find everyone sleeping in the livingroom. I knew James was tired since we had stayed up until early in the morning the night before. I decided to pick up the house a bit before going to bed. That way, it wasn't such a disaster in the morning and all potential stress could hopefully be eliminated. Before I could finish, the baby woke up again, this time also waking James. He told me it was time for me to go to bed, we had a busy day tomorrow, and he didn't want me exhausted. He handed me the baby and said with a tired smile, "let me make you a bed." It is these acts of selflessness that make me fall more and more in love with him everyday. Despite how tired he was and knowing how long he would be traveling in the morning completely exhausted, he still got up and began to make me a bed on the couch. He told me to sit down and he'd cover me with a blanket. I then began to cry realizing that this was without a doubt, my last night with him for a while. Reality sank in. I sat up and began to not just cry, but sob hysterically. James sat down next to me and embraced me in his arms as tight as he could, one hand around me and the other on my face as the baby nursed vigorously on my chest. I could hear him choke back some tears as he tried to clear his throat. He stroked my hair out of the stream of tears rushing down my face. We then began a conversation that I will never forget. It is too personal to write out for the world (friends really) to read, but I will say this, I am deeply in love with this man and his spiritual self. He truly is amazing.
Alright, enough with the sappy stuff...
After a good, hard cry we fell asleep. When I awoke just a few hours later, my head throbbed from the pressure of emotion that had built up. Before starting our day, I said a little prayer and asked the Lord to please bless this day to go by as slow as possible. I wanted every minute of this morning to be remembered happy, calm, and every bit peaceful. We then quickly got ready. Surprisingly, we were out the door two hours later, which in our household, is a complete miracle. James wanted to go out for a special lunch so I wouldn't have to spend our last few hours together cooking and cleaning up after three messy girls. Of course, he chose a burger and wing joint. I am not a fan of their wings, but I thought I could suck it up and enjoy a nice lunch with my family for this one time at this restaurant.
After we ate, we decided it was probably time to talk to the girls, especially Jaylee. She is almost four and I had been putting it off long enough- maybe even too long. Right outside of the restaurant was a few patches of trees, some green soft grass, and a beautiful flower garden. We stopped there and sat as a family. James and I began to explain to Jaylee what was going to take place later today. She is absolutely fascinated by airplanes and we knew that if we explained it with the thought of Daddy flying in an airplane she would hopefully be ecstatic. James began with asking her if she knew where he was going. She just looked at him and clicked her tongue. I'm not too sure why she was doing this, but probably just to be silly. He then explained that he was going to go fly to a new place for work on his 'special airplane' and that he would be back in a little bit. "I'll be home after Christmas, and in the mean time, you need to be good for Mommy.Okay? You also will get to go see your Grandmas and Grandpas, won't that be fun? I'll be home soon." Jay just nodded with a smile on her face as I thought to myself, Well, that was easier than I thought!
Since we hadn't given the girls their dolls yet, we thought now was the perfect time. As I pulled them out of the diaper bag the girls went crazy. They were so excited. We explained that they could now carry Daddy anywhere they go thanks to this cute little doll. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to attach a nipple for the baby. Other than that, they were the perfect gift! ;)
After our wonderful family time it was time to take James to the flight line. I don't think I could have driven any slower than I did that day. I joked around saying I was just going to kidnap him and head right out the gate. That way, he wouldn't have to leave us. We laughed and I drove even slower.
When we arrived at the flight line everyone hoped out as quickly as possible, all awed at the planes. I, on the other hand, slowly unbuckled my seat belt, hesitated to open the door, and slid like a snail out of my seat. This was it.
We walked onto the flight line and were greeted by a tall dark man. He quickly started throwing papers at James, talking to him, and explaining that he had only a few minutes to finish everything before leaving. This was our good-bye. A quick hug from Jay around his leg and a peck on the lips from me and he was gone, leaving the girls and I stranded on the flight line. I tried as hard as I could to hold in my tears until I could get to the car.
And then, I lost it....
"It's okay, it's okay. I love you too." I cried into his neck as I hugged him for the last time. I didn't let go. I couldn't let go. My arms tightened with every breath. As he pulled away I held onto his hand. His fingers slowly slipped away as he wiped the tears from his cheek. I watched him walk off onto the flight line as he turned for his final wave goodbye.
And now, this is it. The count down begins...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)